#i know i probably will get burnt out eventually

[wanderingmind867]

I feel like I haven't made many posts today, probably because I'm still using the ai chatbots a lot. I assume I'll eventually get burnt out on using them, but I don't know when that will be. And I know I probably don't have to apologise for this, but I still felt like apologising anyways. Because it's remarkable how easily my brain can guilt trip me sometimes.

[keeps-ache]

brrrba pa pa da de do ♩

[shroomierambles]

ugghhhhh I have feelings for a friend, which literally hasn’t happened since like early highschool :’)

cause the way my feelings work, I don’t catch romantic feelings for friends once we’re already friends. I caught feelings when we were getting to know each other & I thought it was mutual, but turns out I’m 90% sure I was wrong & now we’re platonic buds, becoming really close friends. and I’m not used to dealing with having romantic feelings & pining over a friend :’)

[pitlanepeach]

Radio Silence | Chapter Two

Lando Norris x Amelia Brown (OFC)

Series Masterlist

Summary — Order is everything. Her habits aren't quirks, they're survival techniques. And only three people in the world have permission to touch her: Mom, Dad, Fernando.

Then Lando Norris happens.

One moment. One line crossed. No going back.

Warnings — Autistic!OFC, mentions of an autistic meltdown, Lando being horrendously down-bad.

Notes — I love to ramble with ya’ll about my fics, so send me as many asks as you want!

Want to be added to the taglist? Let me know! - Peach x

2018

Amelia liked it when the pit garages were like this. Tools neatly racked, screens idle but ready, the scent of fresh tire rubber still hanging in the air — not yet burnt.

Fernando sat on a workbench, sipping his espresso.

She was perched on the same tire she always chose, butter-yellow water bottle in hand. There was enough ice inside to keep her drink cold all day, even under the Abu Dhabi sun. She wore a white cotton dress that would probably be stained with oil by the end of the day — she didn’t care.

"You are thinking too much," he said eventually, voice low, words shaped by the curl of his accent. "I can hear them.”

She turned the bottle slowly between her hands, listening to the ice crash against the insulated metal. “You can’t hear thinking.” She told him. 

"I can when it is this loud," he replied. She frowned, staring at one of the stickers on her water bottle. Either there was a language barrier — or Fernando was some kind of mind reader. “You are worried about the new boys, yes?”

She rounded her shoulders up to her ears in response. 

He shifted slightly, the sound of his espresso cup touching down on the metal bench. “You worry they will not like you. Or not understand you. That they will say stupid things.”

“I don’t care if they like me,” she said automatically, but her voice was too tight around the words. “I just… I don’t want to make them uncomfortable. Because I don’t act the way they will expect, since I’m their boss’ daughter. Or because I don’t always know how to—”

He cut her off with a short sound — not quite interrupting, just catching the sentence before it turned into something more self-deprecating than necessary. “Mi niña,” he said. “You are not responsible for the comfort of two boys. Especially not ones who still trip over their own feet getting into the car.”

She didn’t smile, but the edges of her thoughts softened.

“They come into your garage. You were here first. You are a very helpful addition.” He paused. “And you are never unkind. This is more than most.”

She tightened her grip on her water bottle. “I make people uncomfortable sometimes.”

“Sometimes,” he agreed, and his honesty was nice. People always tried to lie to her in a silly attempt to make her feel more normal. “But only the ones who do not listen properly to what you say.” He picked up his espresso again, then added, “And if they do not listen, I will teach them.”

Amelia glanced toward the open garage, where footsteps passed in rapid beats and voices moved in bursts. It was the last race of the 2018 season. Lewis had already secured the Drivers’ Championship. She’d sent a big cake to his house with Well Done for Being Fast written on it. He’d posted a picture on his Instagram, which meant he’d appreciated the gesture.

She glanced at her phone and started chewing on her bottom lip.

Thinking about Lewis only reminded her of the email — unread, unacknowledged — sitting in her meticulously organised inbox.

Toto Wolff had taken it upon himself to email her. From his personal address, not his work one — no “Mercedes” anywhere in sight.

She’d taken one look at the subject line (Unconditional Job Offer / Employment Opportunity) and promptly launched her phone across the room. Miraculously, the screen had survived.

Lewis had warned her more than once that his team principal was interested in her talents. She’d assumed it was flattery. Apparently not.

If her dad ever found out about the email, he’d have a full-blown meltdown — the kind usually reserved for her. A rival team trying to poach his daughter wasn’t just a personal affront; it was a declaration of war.

“Amelia,” Fernando said. 

She didn’t look up right away. 

"Yes?” She asked. 

"Do not worry so much,” he said, tapping the side of his cup. "It ruins the coffee."

— 

The MTC was half-empty, lit with the flat grey light of a British winter morning. Most people were still on holiday. Lando wasn’t most people anymore. 

He tugged at the sleeves of his new team jacket as he walked the corridor past engineering, sneakers squeaking just slightly with each step. It still felt surreal; being here. Not as a junior, not as a maybe, but as a full-time McLaren Formula One driver.

He was so wrapped up in the thrill of it that he nearly walked right past her.

Amelia Brown was crouched beside a cart of sorted telemetry tablets, scanning each one like she was decoding a puzzle, eyebrows furrowed, lips pursed unhappily. Her white trainers were smudged, her dark hair pulled back loosely, and her signature butter-yellow water bottle was sat beside her on the floor.

Lando stopped.

“Hey,” he said, a little too loud for how quiet the corridor was.

She looked up, blinked once, then gave a small nod. “Hello.”

Not cold. Not warm either. Just… Amelia. 

“I, uh… I set two alarms now,” he blurted, shoving his hands into his jacket pockets. “So I’m never late anymore. Not even accidentally, you know?”

She turned her attention back to the tablets. “Okay.” She mumbled, hardly eligible. 

He waited. 

Right. That was it. 

Just okay.

“You know,” he tried to remind her, smiling because he wasn’t sure what else to do with his face, “because you said I lacked discipline and wouldn’t get the promotion if I kept being late.”

“I did say that,” she said, tapping on one of the screens and letting out an almost silent sigh when the screen remained black. “It was a problem.” 

Still nothing. No smile. No teasing. 

Lando cleared his throat. “Right. Well. It’s not a problem now.”

“Good,” she said.

A pause stretched between them. 

Lando rocked back on his heels. “Cool. Alright. I’ll just— I’ll see you around?”

Still, she didn’t look up. “Highly likely.”

He gave a quick nod and turned to go, cheeks warm.

He’d always thought of himself as pretty likeable. People laughed when he wanted them to. He was decent at reading a room — usually. But clearly, none of that meant anything to Amelia Brown. 

As he walked off, he glanced back without thinking. And, like an absolute idiot, he stumbled a little when he saw her absolutely beam at one of the tablets as it flickered to life, screen lighting up her face like something out of a bloody PC World advert.

Jesus Christ. She was fucking pretty.

Not in a flashy, look-at-me way. Just… quietly, properly pretty. The kind of pretty that made his stomach do something proper dodgy. He dragged a hand through his hair, muttering to himself. “Yeah. Sick. Nice one, mate. You’ve got no chance.”

— 

iMessage – Tuesday, 19:47

Lando mate she’s well fit 

Max F. bro 💀

Lando can’t stop staring at her she probably thinks im a right creep

Max F. yeah probably who are you even talking abt

Lando zak’s daughter

Max F.

are you actually brain dead?

you can’t fancy your boss’s daughter, mate

Lando she smiled today not at me but i saw it 

Max F. get a grip

Lando shut up you don’t get it

Max F. it’s a miracle you’ve still got a job 

Lando is this a safe space or what??

Max F. absolutely not you’re delusional, mate she’s so off-limits it’s not even funny

Lando 

🖕

— 

The Browns didn’t really do Christmas — not in the traditional sense. No matching pyjamas, no big family gathering, no chaos in the kitchen over a turkey no one actually wanted. They kept it simple: jazz music, good coffee, and her dad’s usual schtick — “I forgot to buy you anything this year.”

Which was a lie. Obviously.

She found it parked just outside on the driveway. A muted grey, weather-worn 1974 BMW 2002. 

Amelia stood and stared at it for a long time. Long enough that the cold bite of English winter started to seep in through her socks, and the tips of her fingers began to sting.

“Don’t just stand there,” her dad called from the doorway, hands tucked into his dressing gown pockets. “Take a proper look. She’s all yours.”

She took a slow step forward, then another. The car was old, but solid — just the way she liked things. A little rust, some scuffed chrome. It was beautiful. She crouched next to the front fender and ran her hand along the edge, careful, reverent.

“You hate shopping,” she said, still staring at it.

“I didn’t shop,” her dad replied. “I emailed a man named Clive and paid way too much to have him do all the work for me.”

There was a long silence.

She stood, glanced at him, tried — really tried — to meet his eyes. “Thank you,” she said.

He gave a small nod. “You’ll need new tires. And probably a carburettor.”

Her fingers curled tighter around the edge of her sleeves, but this time it wasn’t nerves — it was barely-contained energy. Her thoughts were already whirring; parts lists, toolkits, diagrams, weekends in the garage with grease on her hands and her favourite playlist playing on repeat.

“I— I can order those online,” she said, already calculating delivery times in her head. “And the belts. And the spark plugs. And—” She stopped herself.

He didn’t say anything. Just smiled into his coffee mug that said ‘Worlds Best Dad’ and stepped back inside, leaving her alone with her new car and barely contained excitement.

Her hands started moving at her sides — flapping, stimming, too fast to stop once they began. She shoved them into her pockets, fists clenched tight against the fabric. Closed her eyes.

She took a breath. Let it out slowly.

Old habits died hard. Years at school had taught her to mask her reactions — even the harmless ones — because they made her stand out. Because they made her weird.

She hadn’t just been ignored. She’d been mocked. Not always loudly, but enough to stick. The way she flapped her hands. The way she didn’t make eye contact. The way she talked too much about one thing and not enough about everything else.

There was a reason she’d chosen not to go to university, even though she loved learning. Even though engineering made perfect sense to her in ways people often didn’t.

She could get a degree. She’d probably be good at it.

But it would drain her — the social minefields, the unspoken rules, the overwhelming noise of lecture halls and shared spaces and trying to be something she wasn’t just to fit in.

She’d spent so long trying to pass as normal. To not stim in public. To not talk too much. To not be too much.

Once, a girl in her class had said, in a tone that Amelia guessed was meant to be kind, “At least you’re pretty. You wouldn’t be able to tell that you’ve got, you know… issues.”

She still thought about that sometimes.

How it was supposed to be a compliment.

How it hadn’t felt like one at all.

— 

2019

The lights were off in her dad’s office. Just the soft hum of the monitor on standby, the gentle click of the old wall clock, and the warm, familiar scent of coffee baked into the furniture. She curled up on the old leather couch, knees tucked close to her chest, head resting against the arm. She had her weighted blanket on. Her yellow water bottle was beside her, half-full. The room felt like a safe haven. 

After yesterday, that was all she wanted.

The meltdown had come on fast — she’d been too hot, the lights too bright, someone had changed the layout of the front-desk without warning her, and it had all just spiralled. She hated how quickly she lost herself in the emotions. Hated the looks people gave her when she couldn’t hold it all together.

She’d apologised more than she should have. Her dad told her that she never needed to apologise for being who she was.

The office door opened.

She didn’t move, but her eyes flicked toward the sound. Her dad stepped in first, deep in conversation, and behind him were Carlos and Lando.

“I told you, she’s probably curled up somewhere charging like a phone,” her dad said lightly, then saw her. His voice softened. “Ah. There she is. Amelia — this is Lando. And this is Carlos.”

She blinked. Sat up a little. “I already know Lando.”

Lando almost tripped over his own feet. “Yeah! Yeah, we’ve, uh— run into each other a few times. Around. Just, like—hallways. And stuff.”

He scratched the back of his neck. His face went bright pink.

Amelia stared at him for a moment before she turned her attention to Carlos. “Hello.”

He gave her a small smile. “Hola,” he said. “Nice to meet you.”

There was a small pause.

Her dad cleared his throat, cheerful as ever.

“Carlos is one of the good ones,” he said. “No nonsense. I like that in a driver.”

Amelia nodded once. That made sense. She respected no-nonsense people, too.

She tucked her knees back under her chin. “Okay,” she said quietly.

Carlos smiled again, just a little wider this time. Still cautious, but less unsure.

Amelia didn’t return the smile — not because she didn’t want to, but because she didn’t always remember that she had to. Instead, she reached for her water bottle and unscrewed the lid. 

“You retired in Australia,” she said. 

Carlos blinked, then gave a small laugh. “Yeah. Not the best start to the season.”

“It was the power unit,” she shrugged. “Renault engine. Unreliable. It wasn’t your fault.”

Her dad gave a low chuckle. “She doesn’t miss much. Reads through race data like it’s the morning newspaper.”

Carlos tilted his head slightly. “You work with the engineers?” He asked her. 

“I don’t work anywhere,” Amelia said. “But I sometimes sit in on meetings. And I fix things when they’re wrong. Fernando used to let me be in his garage. He said I was very useful.”

“You are useful,” her dad said automatically, from across the room.

She didn’t respond. Compliments were difficult — they always made her feel like she was meant to do something with them, and she never quite knew what.

She looked at Lando. He was already watching her.

She blinked. His eyes widened a little.

She let out a quiet sigh through her nose. She hated not knowing what expressions meant — what came next, what was expected.

“Well, I’ll take all the help I can get,” Carlos said, breaking the silence.

Amelia took another sip of water. The right words settled on her tongue this time.

“You overshot Turn Nine,” she said, turning back to Lando.

He coughed. “I—Yeah. I know.”

“You let off the brake too early. You always do that when you’re nervous.”

Carlos let out a small, choked sound.

She frowned at him. 

Lando shifted. “I don’t always do that.”

“Yes, you do,” she said, turning her attention back to him. “You did it at Monza in 2018.”

“Okay.” He said. His neck was going red. 

“But you’re getting better,” she added. “You were twelfth. That’s good, considering the partial engine fault.”

He looked at her for a second too long. She didn’t know why. Then he said, “…Thanks.”

She nodded once, and then tugged at her blanket. 

There was a quiet pause — the kind Amelia usually didn’t mind. Lando shuffled his feet. Carlos glanced toward the door, then back to her.

“Right then! I’ll come find you later,” her dad said to her. “We’ll get something nice for lunch.”

“Okay.” She agreed. 

Carlos gave her one last polite nod. “See you around, Amelia.”

She didn’t say goodbye, just looked at him, then at Lando. “You should eat more complex carbohydrates before qualifying sessions,” she told him. “You looked quite pale.”

Lando stared at her. “I—yeah. Alright.” He paused, then added quickly, “It was, uh, nice seeing you again.”

She didn’t answer, but her lips pressed together in a way that, for her, was close to a smile.

— 

iMessage – Thursday, 10:51

Lando i’m fucked like properly fucked

Max F. bro come on

Lando she’s unreal and actually insanely smart

Max F. mate this is such a catastrophically bad idea

Lando she remembered i locked up into turn 9 in monza like three years ago i think i’m in love

Max F. you’re not in love you’re having a breakdown

Lando can’t it be both

Max F. lando i’m staging an intervention where’s jon⁉️ does he know you’re acting like this

Lando jon just keeps saying i should be stretching more he doesn’t care about my emotional wellbeing

Max F. he’d start to care if he found out you were thirsting after zak browns daughter 

Lando gonna make her my wifey 😏

Max F. fucksake lando 

— 

Amelia stood behind the screens at the back of the McLaren pit garages, fingers looped through the sleeves of her jacket. She’d already organised the weekend’s tyre allocation list by compound, colour-coded the data feed to match, and adjusted the ride height figures twice. Not because she needed to — just because she could.

It was her first race of the year.

The first time back since before the winter break. 

The new chassis looked better in person than it had in the renders. She liked the way the papaya paint caught the light.

“Amelia,” someone said softly.

She turned her head slightly. One of the engineers — Greg? Grant? She still hadn’t learned his name. She was terrible at remembering names. 

“Telemetry’s live when you’re ready.” He told her. 

She nodded once and moved closer, careful to avoid the cables that trailed across the floor like snakes.

The numbers lit up on the screen in front of her. Speed. G-force. Delta times.

She exhaled, long and slow. 

“Morning.”

She looked up. Lando.

He was already in his race suit, helmet tucked under one arm, hair a mess and half-damp. He hadn’t had time to dry it properly after his shower.

“Hello,” she responded.

“You’re here,” he said, smiling. Then quickly added, “I mean — yeah, obviously. It’s only the third race. But still.”

She tilted her head. “Yes. I’m here.”

A pause. His mouth opened like he was going to say something else, then closed again.

“Okay, cool,” he said finally. “Sick. Um. Good luck out there.”

“I’m not driving,” she frowned at him.

“Right.” He turned and walked straight into a support beam.

Amelia blinked, then returned her attention to the screen.

Lando’s throttle trace was spiky again. She’d make a note of that.

— 

The garage was quieter now. Not silent though. It was never fully silent. Engineers were keeping their voices low. Tools clinked still, but in a less urgent rhythm. Some of the pit crew were already sweeping up debris from the floor. Wiping away a mess that no one wanted to talk about.

Amelia stayed where she always did, behind the screens, legs crossed on the floor like it helped anchor her in place. Her yellow water bottle sat by her knee, half-empty and warm now. She hadn’t drunk much since the race started.

DNFs always left a strange taste in the air. Bitter. Like metal.

She hadn’t seen the full replay yet, but she didn’t need to. Lando’s car had made it twenty-eight laps before something failed; she’d seen the warning signs creeping into the data before the radio call was made. His voice had been clipped. Tired.

The flap of the garage partition opening made her flinch. She didn’t look up. She didn’t need to.

It was obviously Lando. His helmet was gone, race suit peeled halfway down, sweat-damp fireproofs clinging to his arms. He stopped just beside her.

“I’m fine,” he said. His voice cracked a little. “In case anyone’s, you know. Wondering.”

Amelia didn’t respond.

He hovered.

She tapped the edge of her tablet. “It wasn’t your fault.”

“Kind of was.” He dropped onto the floor beside her with a groan, back against the wall. “Clipped the kerb weird coming out of six. Probably jarred something.”

“No,” she said. “You were nursing a power unit issue from lap seventeen. You did what you were supposed to.”

He looked at her, then away again, picking at the velcro on his gloves.

She watched him for a second. Tried to decide if she was supposed to say something else. If there was something people usually said in moments like this.

Nothing came.

So she offered the only thing she could give. Facts. “You did better than the data predicted.”

Lando glanced at her. “Is that supposed to be a compliment?”

She squinted at him. Hadn’t that been obvious? “Yes.”

He smiled a little. Just with the corner of his mouth. “Cheers.”

They sat there in silence for a while. A few people came over to touch Lando’s shoulder and offer him sympathy. His jaw got tighter every time. 

Eventually, she picked up her tablet and started rewatching his onboard. Then she angled it toward him. 

“You’re going to tell me exactly what I did wrong, aren’t you?” he asked.

She nodded.

He let his head thump back against the wall. “Brilliant.”

—

The motorhome had quieted after media duties and the two-hour race debrief. Lando sat slouched on the drivers' lounge sofa, phone in hand, aimlessly scrolling. Carlos was across from him, arms folded, watching with a look Lando had come to recognise: the I know something you don’t want me to know look.

“I need to ask you something,” Carlos said, tone casual. But the accent gave it weight — Som-theeng.

Lando didn’t look up. “No.”

Carlos chuckled. “You don’t even know what I’m gonna say, coño.”

“I do.” Lando groaned. “And the answer is still no.”

Carlos leaned forward, resting his forearms on his knees. “You like her.”

“What? No, I—” Lando paused, brow furrowed. “Like who?”

Carlos tilted his head. “Come on. Don’t play dumb, amigo. Amelia. You like Amelia Brown.”

Lando scoffed, shaking his head. “Nah. We’ve barely talked.”

Even he could hear the lie in his own voice.

Carlos raised a silent eyebrow.

“I’m just being respectful!” Lando snapped. “She’s—she’s McLaren royalty, basically. And she knows more about my car than I do half the time.”

Carlos shrugged, eyes sharp. “Sí, she’s smart. And I like her. But...” He leaned in, lowering his voice. “You need to be careful, cabrón.”

Lando’s jaw tensed. “Why? Do you like her? Is that what this is?” The words came out sharper than he intended, something hot and ugly twisting in his gut. Jealousy. Stupid, immediate, and impossible to hide.

Carlos blinked. “Ay, no. Don’t be ridiculous.”

Lando didn’t say anything, but the look on his face said he wasn’t convinced.

Carlos sat back, arms folding again. “She’s not a paddock flirt, okay? She’s not like the grid girls or the influencers who want a selfie and a race pass. She is your boss’ daughter. You screw that up, it’s not just her you lose — it’s your job, your reputation, and the respect of thr whole damn garage. If you haven’t already lost your seat.”

Lando looked away, jaw tight. “Why does everyone act like I’m some... idiot teenager with zero self-control?”

Carlos held his gaze. “Because you are a teenager with zero self-control.”

“I’m nineteen!” He argued. 

“Exactly.” Carlos exhaled through his nose. “So, listen to me. If you’re serious? Fine. But don’t start something you’re not ready to finish.”

Lando looked away, jaw tight. “I’m not a total dickhead, y’know.”

Carlos gave him a long look, then nodded. “Bueno. Just remember what I said.”

Lando muttered under his breath, “Still worth it.”

Carlos groaned, grabbing a cushion off the sofa and chucking it at him. “Ay dios mío. You are so getting yourself fired.”

— 

Amelia was sat on the low wall outside the McLaren hospitality unit, sipping from her water bottle, tablet balanced on her knees.

She heard him before she saw him — Lewis never really moved quietly. Valtteri was beside him. 

“Morning, little genius,” Lewis said, slowing to a stop.

She looked up, blinked once. “Good morning.”

Valtteri gave a small nod. “You’re looking well.”

“I’m fine,” she said, glancing back down at her tablet. 

There was a pause. 

She sighed softly before looking up at them both. “You can tell Toto thank you,” she said, tone even. “For the offer. I appreciate it, but I’m not interested.”

Lewis blinked. “Offer?”

“Yes. The job.” She paused. “I assumed he’d told you.”

Valtteri and Lewis exchanged a glance; surprised, a little caught off guard.

“He didn’t,” Valtteri said slowly.

Lewis folded his arms. “He reached out to you directly?”

She nodded. “From his personal email. Not the Mercedes one.” That felt important.

Lewis let out a low whistle. “Damn. That sneaky bastard.”

“I’ve thought about it,” Amelia went on. “And I’m staying with my team. With my dad. Loyalty is important to me.”

Valtteri raised his brows. Lewis looked at her for a moment longer, then gave a slow nod. “Well, he’ll be disappointed,” he said, voice lighter now.

Amelia shrugged. “He’ll be fine.”

“Guess we’ll just have to beat you on track then,” Valtteri added, grinning.

She frowned down at her tablet screen. “You have a significantly better car than us.”

Lewis laughed. “Yeah. Guess we do.” 

— 

“Miss Brown, I’d like a word.”

She turned, blinked, and then frowned.

The team principal for Renault smiled at her, a little too wide — it was off-putting.

“I’ll just jump straight to it. I think you could be a great asset to our team. We’d love to have someone with your brain power. I could offer you a very generous employment package.” He said. 

She blinked at him. She’d been getting these exact kinds of propositions ever since the season started. Every team, it seemed, was suddenly interested in her ‘brain power’. She wasn’t sure what had changed. Maybe they had followed her on Twitter. 

“I am happy where I am,” she said flatly. “Thank you.” 

The man was still smiling, though it was starting to fade just a little. “Are you sure? We’d be willing to work out a very appealing arrangement for you. It could be a great opportunity.”

She wasn’t interested. She didn’t need to be polite. It didn’t take a lot of effort to walk away from the conversation. She took a step back, her fingers clenching around her yellow water bottle.

As she moved past him, she heard him call after her, but she didn’t stop.

Gosh, she thought to herself, as she made her way back to McLaren motorhome. Could none of them find anyone better than a 19-year-old without a degree?

NEXT CHAPTER

[mmywanda]

Dandelion — W.M

chapter one of Forbidden Pleasure

—

Pairing: CEO!WandaMaximoff x Fem!Reader

Summary: When you decided to join your family's business, you had no idea the ceo of the rival company would be so.. alluring. men & minors dni!

Warnings: None.. yet ;)

Word count: 3.7k

A/N: My first series! I promise it’s going to get more exciting soon, this was just setting things up.

Beta read by @poulengp <3

—

You'd never been into business. Despite your family being famous for their own very successful company, Nexus. No, you preferred working in that little library, where it was quiet, and the most stressful it got was when someone returned their books too late. Why would you want to be involved in a business full of money hungry people who think of nothing but financial success?

So that was precisely what you told your father when he called you up one Saturday morning, trying to persuade you into following in the footsteps of the majority of your family. And what didn't help your case was the fact you'd be laid off from your job, as there wasn't enough funding in the library to keep all four employees.

"I don't want to be a part of it, dad, I've told you this so many times." You spoke between chews, the crunch of your slightly burnt toast echoing through the call.

"You're twenty two, (Y/N), it's time you step up and join us. You could be valuable to the team."

You rolled your eyes, "And what value would that be?" Both of you knew that you'd passed through college with barely average results, and was lucky to have found a decently paying job that didn't require better grades.

"You're good with people, we need that."

Glancing over at the small stack of bills across you on the kitchen table, you sighed. "I don't want it to change me." What if you turned into an emotionless robot? And had to work behind a desk everyday? And that desk may be on the twenty fourth level of a glass tower building?

"You won't change, I know you."

Doubt swirled around in your mind, eyes scanning the small apartment you lived in. You would have to find a job soon, though it would be difficult given your low qualifications and lack of experience. Here you were, being offered a job that would most likely be well paying.

"Fine. I'll do it."

—

The first matter of business was shopping. Your wardrobe consisted of cardigans, faded jeans, a skirt you refused to ever wear again and a few shirts that looked very outdated compared to the modern city you lived in.

Walking into a clothing store that wasn't your typical go-to was scary. You'd chosen a different one so you could find more professional outfits— because you'd probably be kicked out of the office if you were to walk in wearing your usual attire.

"May I offer you some assistance?" A woman appeared in front of you almost two seconds after you'd stepped through the automatic doors. Her eyes scanned you, as it was obvious this was your first time in that store.

You smiled, shaking your head, "No, it's okay thank you. I'm just browsing." When she left with a nod, you walked to the pants section, looking at the wide selection of styles, material and colours. You didn't even know where to begin. Eventually you decided that darker shades like grey, black or navy would be appropriate. Picking a few out, you folded them over your arm, ready for the dressing room later.

Next was shirts, that just like the pants, had a very large selection, perhaps even more. A sigh left your lips.

Twenty minutes later you'd accumulated clothing items and two pairs of shoes. It was a bit of a struggle to get to the dressing rooms, and once inside a cubicle, you dropped the pile onto the stool. Another sigh left your lips. Is this what business people went through every year? Well, probably every month, based on what you knew of business people. Granted, your only knowledge of business style was from The Office, and it wasn't like that show was renowned for its fashion sense.

Trying on a few outfits, matching different things, you decided on what you would purchase. Making your way to the cashiers, you avoided the gaze of the store assistant.

"That will be three hundred and eleven dollars, fifty cents." The cashier's bright smile almost smoothed over your shock, but not quite. Three hundred and eleven dollars?!

As much as you wanted to apologise and leave to find a store that had cheaper prices, you wouldn't be able to handle the judgemental stare of that woman. So, you got your card out and pressed it against the card reader. When it let out a double beep, indicating it hadn't been approved, you tried again, to which the cashier said, "You have to put your card in. The contactless limit is two hundred."

Your face flushed. If it wasn't obvious that you hadn't spent this much money before, it was now.

That evening, you laid on your couch, staring at the cracks in your ceiling, instant ramen in a bowl, cooling down from its boiling temperature. You thought about what would happen tomorrow, your first day in the office. Well, you knew you wouldn't have a desk job exactly, you'd be more like an assistant to any of the managers or executives— whatever that meant.

Trying to shake your mind of all the worries, you ate your ramen, despite it burning your tongue. At least it was a distraction from the overthinking anyway.

—

You woke up with a start, phone alarm blaring. Your first instinct was to sit up, but an ache in your neck forced you to pause. It seemed you'd fallen asleep on the couch, head having been in an awkward position all night. You thanked the you from yesterday who set the alarm in preparation and had placed the phone beside you.

It didn't take long to put your chosen outfit on, but what did take long was pleasing the perfectionist in you. You stood in front of the mirror for a while, adjusting your hair this way and that, fiddling with the simple silver necklace you were wearing.

"It's no big deal, (Y/N), you're not going to meet anyone important on your first day."

That's what you kept telling yourself during your journey to the office building. It took a train and a four minute walk until you reached your destination. Walking into the lobby, you were struck by how sharp, clean and unnecessarily big it was. Pale marble flooring, bright white walls, even brighter ceiling lights despite it being a sunny day outside. And the very large 'NEXUS' logo on the far wall. Your shoes squeaked against the marble, and you wondered what sort of material the soles were made out of. Perhaps the marble was made to mock people with shoes worth less than a thousand dollars.

"How may I help you?" The receptionist asked as you approached him. You smiled, masking your nerves.

"I'm (Y/N), I'm meant to be starting my job today."

He nodded quickly, suddenly sitting up straighter, you assumed because he believed he would get in trouble if he wasn't the most professional he could be in front of his boss's daughter. You then noticed his name badge that read 'Evan'.

Evan picked up the reception phone, tapping a few numbers before speaking, telling someone that you had arrived. The conversation was short.

"Take the elevator to the ninth floor, first door on the right." He pointed you in the right direction. You gave him your thanks and then found yourself inside the small metal box also known as an elevator. You hated them, though you guessed it would have to become part of your routine now.

Once arriving on the ninth floor, you examined the decor— plain walls with an occasional framed art piece (the kind that looked like a toddler had painted that would sell for millions).

Hearing distant voices coming from various closed doors, you decided dallying wouldn't make the start of shift any easier. You found the first door on the right, knocking lightly until you heard a familiar voice call out— "Come in." So you did.

The office was spacious, a desk in the middle, and seating behind it was your father. He gave you a warm smile, standing up with an outstretched hand. You mentally sighed at his usual strange way of greeting family members. You shook his hand before taking a seat in front of him.

"It's good to see you here, when was the last time you visited?" He prompted, clicking his silver pen against the table.

"A few years ago, the Christmas party."

You remembered it begrudgingly. The night you fell onto a table that happened to be seating several ice filled buckets for the champagne. Let's just say it was an extremely humiliating memory that always made you shiver. The chill of the ice had never quite escaped you.

Your father chuckled, nodding as he recalled the same night. "Ah, yes. How could I forget." You rolled your eyes, refusing to smile until he changed the subject. "Anyway, let's talk business."

He pulled out a new planner journal, handing it to you. Flicking through it, you noticed a lot of dates neatly jotted in. You gave him a questioning look.

"My assistant kindly added important dates and meetings."

Your eyes widened slightly, "I'm going to join meetings?" That was something you hadn't expected.

"As a note taker, for now." His expression showed how keen he was for you to progress in your role and reach a high position in the company on your own. He wasn't going to get you a higher job just because you were his kid.

Scanning the dates written down for the current week, you saw there was a meeting scheduled for today. Anxiety immediately bubbled inside you at the thought of being in such a professional setting with equally professional people, as an inexperienced ex-librarian.

"Don't worry, (Y/N). It's not a huge deal." He hesitated, before correcting himself. "Okay, it is a big deal."

You groaned, leaning back in the chair that you had to admit was very uncomfortable. "What is it about? Stock shares or something?" It was very obvious that you pulled the term out of your very limited knowledge on business that lived in the back of your brain, because your father's eyebrows creased in amusement.

"It's our annual meeting with Maximoff Industries. And let's just say our companies have difficulty clicking."

The name 'Maximoff Industries' was familiar. You knew that they created things in the technology area, and as it so happened, Nexus did too, so it was no wonder they didn't 'click'.

"How do they normally go?" You had to gauge how terrible the experience would be for you. Scenarios ran through your mind, the most rational being; raised tones, interrupted sentences, perhaps even a few cold glares (gasp).

"We have a small partnership in a few products, so the disagreements normally stem from financial shares, and what name is listed first under the annual report. It normally ends in a handshake though." He attempted a smile, but it was clear that he had a very strong distaste for Maximoff Industries. "It doesn't help that their CEO, Wanda Maximoff is a.. difficult person to get along with in terms of business."

"Why?" You asked, wanting to know what to expect in the meeting, even if you were going to be sitting in the corner.

Your father sighed, leaning back in his chair. "She's.." He thought for a long hard moment. "She has this look, like she knows more than you, like she's superior. And she very obviously craves control over every situation without explicitly expressing it. It's infuriating, but hard to explain."

It didn't seem like much to go on; having a certain expression and craving control. Wasn't that a description of half of the earth's population?

Your father checked his watch, "It's going to start in twenty minutes." You internally panicked, because you hadn't expected things to start so soon. He smiled kindly, leaning forward in his chair a bit.

"It's okay, (Y/N), you're not going to be talking." That didn't exactly reassure you, because it meant you would have to maintain a calm act in case anyone looked your way.

"Alright, let's do this." Faking positivity was the first step, right?

—

The meeting room was empty when you and other representatives from Nexus walked in, including your father. They all took their seats, presumably their allocated ones. There was a chair set aside from the very long table, which you guessed was for you. Sliding it backwards a bit, you sat, spending a very awkward minute trying to decide how to position your legs. Should you cross them or not? Before you could come to a decision, you heard people entering the room.

You looked up, counting five very professional looking businesspeople. Thinking that was all, you opened your notebook, until you sensed one last presence. Glancing across the room, a woman entered.

She was dressed in a black suit, white shirt and heels. Hair brunette with lighter streaks, eyes a deep shade of green. But the overriding feature of this woman was her aura. Everyone in the room fell silent, most of the Nexus members seemed to have a polite but forced smile.

"Ms Maximoff, it's good to see you." Your father announced, making a small gesture with his hand to indicate for the woman to sit at the opposite end of the table— although she'd already done so.

"Yes, it's a pleasure, Julian." Wanda Maximoff replied, her tone smooth, with an underlying accent you hadn't heard before. It was very alluring all the same. You noticed she'd addressed your father by his first name.

"How have you been? I heard y—" Your father began, until he was cut off.

"Let's just get to business, shall we?" Wanda's hands rested on top of the table, revealing her many intricate and no doubt expensive silver rings.

"Oh, yes." Julian cleared his throat, gesturing to his coworker, a manager to start the presentation. You tried your best to quickly note down the points the manager was making, including comments from the other company.

But you felt your attention slipping, because from your angle, Wanda Maximoff was just to the left of the presentation screen. You were inexplicably drawn to her, the way she held herself, and not to mention her immense beauty.

You were suddenly startled when the face you were staring at turned, green eyes locking with yours. All oxygen left your lungs, not from panic of being caught staring during a professional meeting, but because Wanda Maximoff was piercing. Though her head tilted back to the presentation. Finally you were able to breathe, fingers gripping the notebook edges.

"So what's the point of decreasing the amount of products manufactured if it's in high demand?" Wanda questioned, leaning back in her seat slightly, directing the question towards your father instead of the manager.

He paused, thinking through his answer before replying. "Retailers are going to be bidding higher prices in order to stock it."

Wanda Maximoff's eyebrows quirked, a slight upturn of her lips now revealing to you what your father had described earlier; The Look. It indeed felt like she was in control, as if she was negotiating a deal with a child.

"Why don't we ask someone else's opinion?" Wanda's eyes snapped to you. Horror rushed through you as everyone followed Wanda's directed stare. All eyes were on you.

You felt your face heat up, having absolutely no idea what to say or do other than look towards your father helplessly. He nodded his head, as if urging me to speak so they could move on quickly.

"Uh—" Words were failing you. Wanda's expression shifted from expectancy to amusement. She was enjoying your embarrassment, it seemed. "I think it could work.. people tend to want to buy things that are exclusive." You didn't have anything to base that opinion on, but you hoped it sounded more certain than it did in your head.

Wanda's stare remained on you for a few agonising seconds before nodding once, accepting your answer. "Let's take ten, my team need to discuss this." Everyone nodded quickly in agreement. The Nexus members waited for the others to leave the room, but they didn't. Your father let out a very quiet but infuriated sigh at Wanda's blank though slightly smug expression . He stood, muttering to everyone to leave with him, including you. You'd never exited a room so quickly.

Once you were a few metres down the corridor, you exhaled, leaning against the wall, the conversation between your company distant to your ears. You were busy calming down from the humiliation. You hadn't felt this way since falling into a table with ice buckets in this very building.

Why had Wanda singled you out? Surely she knew how uncomfortable that would be for someone who was clearly new.

You needed water. Luckily you knew of the staff lounge that had a supply of refreshments.

The 'lounge' was thankfully empty, consisting of several pristine couches and counter with a kettle and an array of coffees and teas. You headed towards the water cooler. Grabbing a small paper cup, you flicked on the switch for the water to start filling the cup slowly. It was when it reached the halfway mark that you were startled by a voice.

"It's an interesting opinion that you have."

You spun around, facing Wanda Maximoff. It was hard to breathe again.

"Do you know a lot about consumer behaviour?" She asked, emerald eyes fixed on yours. The question stunned you for a moment, not entirely understanding. But you'd done enough reading to be able to guess what her words meant.

"Not really, I just notice what people around me seem to buy." Good, you're doing good— you told yourself.

"You don't do the buying?" She asked, head slightly tilted to the side.

You let out a nervous chuckle, shaking your head. "Oh, no. I'm the type to keep something until it's completely incapable of doing its job." For example; your toaster.

Wanda's lips twitched into a smile that almost felt like a smirk. "That's an unfortunate attitude to have when you're working in this industry." You swallowed, throat feeling very dry as you still hadn't had that water yet. Wanda seemed to finally notice the cup in your hand.

"Drink."

The simple word felt like a command, and you found yourself raising your cup without hesitation and taking a gulp of water. It felt like a relief to your dry throat. The woman's smile was now definitely a smirk, though what she was smirking at, you didn't know.

"I haven't seen you around here before. When did you start?" The question was a simple one, but the way Wanda delivered it made it seem a lot more important, like she actually interested.

You were just glad it was an easy one to answer. "Today, actually."

She nodded slowly, "You're Julian's daughter?"

"Yeah, he's wanted me here for a while, and I needed a job." You had to tell yourself to just chill out, because you were starting to overthink your answers, despite there being no need to.

Wanda reached a hand out to tuck some of her hair behind her ear, inadvertently directing your attention to her hands. The silver rings shaped her fingers perfectly, the dark red varnish on her nails standing out as they brushed against her hair. You swallowed, forcing yourself to look away.

"Those plants look half dead."

Your eyebrows raised at her very random statement. Since when did plants become a part of the conversation? You went along with it, noticing the few potted plants and vases with flowers that did look very wilted.

"Do you know the name of that one?" Wanda pointed to a specific plant, green leaves and yellow flowers. You knew nothing about plants.

"Tulip?" It was more of a question than an answer. Wanda let out a chuckle at your painfully wrong answer. She shook her head in amusement.

"Dandelion." She stated, suddenly studying you with some type of curiosity and intrigue. "You remind me of a dandelion."

Your expression was quizzical, wondering why a yellow flower could be associated to you in any kind of way. "Why?"

Wanda smiled mysteriously, carefully leaving the question unanswered as she checked her watch. You could tell by the watch strap alone that it was probably worth more than your student debt. "The break is over." And with that, she began walking away, her heels clicking against the floor. You were stunned for a few seconds before snapping out of it. Realising that the cup was still in your hand, you threw it away, walking as quickly as you could back to the meeting room without embarrassing yourself.

Everyone was in the room by the time you'd survived the walk back. You kept your eyes down and sat in your corner (of shame). The conversations started again, and you tried your best, yet again, to make notes. It was a bit easier to concentrate as Wanda hadn't done any talking yet.

It was boring, really, listening to your father and Maximoff Industries' representatives disagree on very simple things like the font for whatever the damn products they wanted to sell.

Finally, Wanda spoke up after listening to the conversation she appeared to have found just as boring as you had. "Let's do it. Less products for higher sales, as ridiculous as it sounds. Though, something would have to be put in place.”

You glanced up from your notebook, pen hovering above the page. Even Wanda’s own coworkers seemed confused.

“I will have regular meetings with a representative from Nexus, just so I can keep up to date with your side of this new decision.”

You could practically see the cogs in your father’s brain whirring, as he probably didn’t know now if this new idea would be a mistake. He cleared his throat. “Okay, I’ll look at my schedu—“

“It will be (Y/N).” Wanda stated clearly. Once again, you found all attention on you. You were just as bewildered as the other surprised faces.

“Me?” You uttered, cheeks flushed at the idea of Wanda Maximoff wanting to meet you again.

A smile twitched on your lips as she studied you from across the room. You felt the presences around you fade away when your eyes locked with green ones. She spoke in a slow but deliberate way, “You will accept, won’t you?”

Without thinking twice, you simply replied, “Yes.”

—

[erosastro]

Your future spouse/partner: Pick a pile Tarot reading

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

Pile one - Amethyst

Who are they?

This seems like someone who likes to be in control. There’s certain structure and order to things that they like to maintain and anything that happens that they didn’t anticipate they tend to panic but they also don’t like to show it. This need for control and power and staying stuck in a very masculine energy is from a need to work on their self-esteem. I think deep down they know they don’t “fit in” which is what makes them overcompensate in other areas of their life. They could mirror your energy a lot as well. Deep down they’re emotional beings and all they need is love and comfort, though again they might not say it out loud. they’re sensitive too but cover it up with a hard exterior. They may not like to show their emotions easily to others. They’re probably very creative and intelligent as well, though they may be hesitant to take any risks. They also value their solo time or are in desperate need for it. They probably have a lot to unleash creatively and may be working on it. Their feminine energy is begging to be released, to create some sort of balance and again they may be working on that right now. They’re very protective over people they love and might share a very close relationship with their mother or a maternal figure in their lives. In a relationship they’re receptive and nurturing and there’s a quiet tenderness to them that draws people in.

* Capricorn, Pisces and Virgo or Taurus might be significant placements

What the relationship will be like?

I think that this person might be used to surface level relationships because they’re so scared of opening up but with you there’s a sense of familiarity and it forces them the reckon with their old ways of thinking and communicating and overall how they go about their relationships. There might be some time for them to open up and share their feelings candidly with you but once they do, the flow of communication between you two will be loving and understanding. You’ll slowly bring them out of their shell. You’ll bring about a sense of balance in their lives and they probably will be able to show a lot more of their creative and sensitive side to you eventually because of the trust that’s been built between you two. They might initially want something casual or not that serious at first but because of the connection they feel with you, they’re going to be forced to face things they’ve been pushing away for a long time. It’s very tender and sweet between you two and your love language might be words of affirmation or acts of service

Pile two - Rose Quartz

Who are they?

They’re hard workers and very loyal but there’s a playful and passionate side to them as well. They’re the type of person that everyone is happy to be around and there’s a sense of childlike wonder to them that makes them intriguing. They could lowkey be players but they are very loyal once they’re in a relationship. They love to have fun and they could also be weird in an endearing way. I heard “match my freak” lol. They could be sensitive to other people’s energies and they don’t like seeing or making other people upset. They’re unconventional in a lot of ways. They’re intelligent and open minded though they could be moody sometimes. Especially if they get burnt out from work. They don’t get pissed off easily but once they do … they could be quite harsh with their words especially. The energy is delightful and quirky. They could be geeky as well.

* Gemini, Aries, Sagittarius and Libra energy coming through strongly.

What the relationship will be like?

Okay firstly words of affirmation might be a bit love language between the two of you. They value you. They could put you on a bit of a pedestal actually, lol. They’re very thoughtful as well and I heard that things are easy between you two right off the bat. Like conversations flow easily and banter. They’re soooo loving. Like they love to express their love to you and they find you hella attractive. They may think you’re out of their league. I’m picturing Leonard and penny from big bang theory. That might be a show you both love as well. You love to make each other laugh and the intimacy between you is otherworldly. They notice the small things about you and you both value each other. They may the first ones to say “I love you”

Pile three - opalite

Who are they?

They’re fiercely loyal and protective and they’ve been through a lot in the past. Lots of heartbreak that may have caused a sense of insecurity within them. But they love like no other. They’re protective and trustworthy and are big on building trust in a relationship first, no matter what kind of relationship it is. I sense that they might be spiritual as well.hard to grasp too much about them so they might be mysterious too. Their souls are beautiful and they might have gone through a major spiritual transformation or awakening recently. They might be working on healing their heart chakra due to the trauma from previous relationships that they’ve faced. But I get such a strong energy from them either way. Like when they love someone they love HARD.

*Leo energy is super strong in this reading as well as Libra and Gemini

What the relationship is like?

There’s so much of Leo energy here id be surprised if they didn’t have Leo placements of fifth house placements. This relationship is sooo supportive. You guys are each others biggest cheerleaders. I said “aww” so many times for this part of the reading. You make each other super happy and you’re both willing to work hard on the relationship. Like there’s mutual effort here and understanding. You might have manifested this person into your life. I heard “long time coming”. You may already feel this persons energy strongly. You have a way of helping each other through any anxieties or doubts easily. For some of you** there could be babies that come in very early and the relationship might move quite quickly. But it’s because there’s like no doubt about each at all. You both know you’re each others person right off the bat.

Pile four - Aquamarine

Who are they?

They’re very blunt lol. But they have a way with words. They’re extremely charming and intelligent. And they value family a lot. They’re highly intuitive too. They’re very self assured and they’re loyal too, to everyone they love. They’re very direct to people about how they feel and they may come across strange to some. But there’s still something super intriguing about them because their energy is very high vibrational. They might not like beating around the bush and are good at observing others. I feel like it would be hard to lie to this person too. Like they immediately pick up that you’re speaking shit lol. They’re very spiritual and creative. They could be big on being very healthy and like fitness freaks too. They’re the types to love studying even if they don’t always need it. They love learning about new things all the time and the way to their heart is probably through their minds first. They could have psychic abilities as well and can be hypersensitive. They’re very sure about what they want in their lives too.

Strong Gemini, Aquarius, Libra and Leo

What is the relationship like?

Pile four this might be your divine counterpart. The energy is very strong and this relationship is extremely important in your lives. They might have taken a while to come into your life and vice versa but patience is virtue! And trust me it’ll be worth it. They feel very lucky to have you in their life. They love you so unconditionally and you guys get a long like a house on fire. There’s beautiful energy flow between you two and you’re very supportive of each other. You accept each other wholeheartedly and I hear that it’s not something you’re used to. You might have been in very difficult relationships before. You two have a lot in common and can relate to each other in a lot of different ways. They expose you to new ways of loving and spirituality and sexuality. It might be scary to go into this relationship heart first but something about them makes both of you embrace the unfamiliar. Beautiful energy again. Air signs coming through strongly again.

[munsonsmixtapes]

Stay Just a Little Longer

Spencer Reid x fem!reader

You have to go to work, but Spencer wants you to stay for just a little bit longer.

Light seeps in through the blinds of the window in your bedroom, waking Spencer up from his deep sleep. He turns over to the side you always sleep on, but you’re not there. And it’s cold. He knows that you’re probably just getting ready for work, but he still worries about you sometimes. Just when he’s about to go look for you, you come back into the bedroom from the bathroom.

You’re drying your hair with a towel, dressed in nothing but a tank top and your panties and he can’t help but wonder how he got so fucking lucky. He just watches with an amused smile as he sits up in the bed.

Spencer loves this, loving seeing you do tasks that are usually so mundane, but with you, is fascinating to see. He loves watching you get dressed, deciding what to wear. He loves seeing how you do your makeup, studying every swipe of the eyeshadow brush, how much blush you put on. It’s almost like he wants to commit the whole routine to memory just in case he’d need to take over for whatever reason.

Once you’re dressed, you stand in your full length mirror, doing one last look to make sure you like what you see before you have to head out the door. But you see Spencer in the reflection, smiling at you like he couldn’t be more proud.

“What?” You ask as you turn around to face him and he stands, heading over to you. His arms wrap around your waist while yours are around his neck.

“Nothing,” he shakes his head. “I just love you.”

“I love you too,” you reply and he pulls you in for a kiss. He then peppers your face with them, your giggles only encouraging him as he pulls you over to the bed.

You don’t even realize what’s happening until you’re lying on the mattress, Spencer on top of you, still kissing your face as giggles continue to pour from your mouth.

“Spencer.” You’re trying so hard to be stern, but it’s so hard when he’s like this. He’s just being sweet, but you know that he knows exactly what he’s doing so you have to put your foot down. “I have to go to work.”

“Stay. Just a little bit longer.” He’s pouting now and those damn brown eyes are going to be the death of you.

“I’m going to be late.”

“Call out.” He says it like it’s the most simple thing in the world, but you know he’s only joking.

He’d never ask you to do that even though you never take a day for yourself. He sees how much you work, how often you’re going in when you’re not even scheduled. He knows your burnt out and just wants you to take a break.

“I want to, but-” you cut yourself off, not even sure what the reason would be. You deserve this. You never call out. And the more you think about changing back into your pajamas, you can’t help but want to give in. And when Spencer buries his face into your neck, you know you’re not going anywhere.

“But what?” He asks as he pulls away. “You give those people every spare minute and now you’re feeling guilty for wanting some time to yourself? You’re not even scheduled today. They asked you to come in an hour ago. I heard you on the phone.”

“You’re right,” you tell him and he nods. “I deserve this.”

“Yeah you do.”

“Actually, I’m gonna quit. Right now.” They wouldn’t give a two week notice if they were firing you. So why would you give a two week notice to quit?

“That’s my girl,” he replies, giving you another kiss.

He smirks down at you as he reaches over to the bedside table and grabs your phone before handing it to you.

After you do eventually quit after Spencer gives you all the reasons why you should, you stay in bed all day, catching up on tv shows you’ve missed and eating takeout because neither of you felt like cooking. And you feel so free knowing that you don’t have to go to work tomorrow. And it was all thanks to Spencer.

[stxrvel]

remorse (5)

series summary. the holy grail of the seven men who ruled the country's entertainment used to be your friends at school. now, ten years later and between successes and failures, what reason would they have to want to come back into your life? pairing. eventually ot7 x f!reader... or not? content. first of all, english is not my first language so sorry for any mistakes! curse words, flashback, a lot of remorse, fights, stubborn people, lack of communication, angst. a/n. its finally here. i haven't re read this chapter bc im almost falling asleep and i have to work tomorrow, but i'll give this one another look in the weekend. a friend of mine helped me with the traduction bc i'm really really burnt out rn. also, chapters names changed!! i hope you guys like this one! see you on the next one🫶🏻

series masterlist | bts masterlist | previous | next

“Oppa…”

Yoongi raised his head, his body leaning toward the piano acknowledging your presence in the room, and you could tell how he was physically struggling to move away from the instrument. Under his watchful gaze, you walked in his direction shuffling your feet, with a pitiful expression and every intention of openly complaining to one of the elders in your group of friends. But you relaxed your expression when you were a few steps away, recognizing his notebook on the piano lid and the trail of ink between his fingers at a safe distance from the keys.

His laughter confused you, and when you looked up, his lips were curved into a pretty smile. It was annoying. He was only two years older than you.

“What happened now?”

You remembered that you had come with a purpose, but your mind, as evasive and suggestible as ever, found more interest in what your eyes had caught.

“The usual,” you barely commented, moving to sit on your legs in front of Yoongi. “Were you writing?”

Yoongi glanced over to find his notebook, his shoulders shaking in a sigh because he knew he wouldn't be able to escape this conversation now that you had discovered him.

“Something like that…”

“Can I see it?”

“It's nothing decent. I don't think it's prudent.”

You pressed your lips together at his response, letting your shoulders droop, disappointed. But it was what you had expected; after all, Yoongi was quite secretive about his notebook, and it was rare for him to let you get this close and know so much about him. Even though you had probably known each other since you learned to swim and multiply, and surely knew more skeletons in his closet than he would like to admit, Yoongi still had a reluctance to show you or anyonw his writings. You had to catch him at a very relaxed moment.

So you set aside your emotions, not allowing Yoongi to respond as you pouted, and crossed your arms while turning your head away.

“Taehyung and Jungkook got so competitive on the court that they kicked us all out,” you frowned, remembering how the two had rushed past you and stolen the ball in the blink of an eye, moving so quickly and with cheeky laughter that you barely understood what was happening until you saw them tussling with the ball in front of the scoring area.

They were already in extracurricular hours, and although everyone had subjects to study and delve into, they decided to take a moment to take advantage of the fact that the school court would be empty and play for a while. Jin and Namjoon had left the game after two quarters because they simply couldn't keep up, and since one was in your group with Jimin and the other with the two kings of competition that day, they decided to kick them out and leave them as referees along with Hobi, who was the initial one.

Surprisingly, Yoongi also didn’t attend the game or his extracurricular class, choosing to get lost in the music room, taking advantage of the fact that it was empty that day because classes ended early.

“I don’t understand why they have to ruin everyone’s fun.”

Your little thirteen-year-old self, ignorant of many aspects of life, could only cross her arms and complain. Yoongi smiled, his two extra years of age giving him an understanding that perhaps you didn’t have access to, because it was inconceivable to you that such a sacrilege could be considered funny. Basketball hours were sacred!

“They're just messing around.”

“Oppa, you should've seen how they were pushing each other,” you shook your head, refusing to believe that Yoongi really wanted to defend them. “If you had been there, you could've stopped them.”

“And Jin?”

“He was laughing with them.”

“Ah,” Yoongi turned his head. “So the second best option was me?”

You shrugged. “Well, I thought I could convince you to go to the court, but…”

“But…?” Yoongi rested a hand on the bench, leaning in to see you on the floor.

“Maybe it’s more fun to listen to you play the piano.”

You smiled brightly, intertwining your fingers while Yoongi wore a half-smile. Without responding, he straightened up again, adopting the posture he had when you saw him through the glass of the door, before you interrupted his concentration. His fingers danced in the air for a few seconds, touching the notes in his head, recalling sound after sound, until the pressure on them gave way to a melody unknown to you.

It had to be a new piece, a new composition in his notebook. Yoongi played, calm and serene, focused and absorbed, letting the sound flow as if it came directly from nature.

Seeing Yoongi like this was… a strange event. Later, as time passed, you would think it was unbearable to have to see him everywhere, to hear his name around every corner, but at that moment you were lost in him, absorbing the sounds of his mind that his fingers materialized on the piano, allowing yourself to be carried away by the tide of his emotions, the way he conveyed so many words with his touches. The fast and slow notes, the change of tempo, all so meticulously created and organized to send a message, to describe an emotion, to paint a scene.

Yoongi was scared. Perhaps nervous, even. When he finished his piece, you could only look at him in awe, his shoulders moving a little faster due to the intensity with which he finished, keeping his head down, as if processing what he had just done. His fear was palpable, his hopelessness and unease.

“Oppa?”

“I don’t know…” he paused, dropping the lid over the keys and taking a calmer posture. “I don’t know if I’ll do the right thing when I graduate.”

“Why?” your brow furrowed, and you leaned forward in concern. “You’ve always talked about it. And you have a lot of talent, oppa, I know you’ll make it.”

Yoongi gave a nearly pained smile, as if he understood something you had no idea about.

“Jin is going to medical school.”

“I know. But it’s what he’s passionate about,” you moved closer to your friend, trying to give him some of the support he always gave you. “Isn’t music what you’re passionate about?”

The black-haired boy frowned. The answer was clear in his eyes, in the way he played the piano until he was breathless, but the gestures of his doubts were there too: when his fingers trembled with anxiety, his eyes gaining more shine as the seconds passed.

“Oppa,” you called, trying to break the silence, trying to prevent his thoughts from eating him alive. “If it’s what you love, you’ll succeed. I’m sure of that.”

You saw how the haze in his eyes disappeared, his features relaxing at least a little.

“I probably only have your support. I’ll have to rely on that.”

His small smile constricted your heart. In that moment, you didn’t know what you could do to show him that it was enough, but you were also unaware of the reality that his words held. It was probably due to your age, the age difference with Yoongi, but you couldn’t shake the feeling that he would never be completely satisfied with that. You wondered if it was about you, just for a second, recalling the way he smiled when some of the other boys gave him words of encouragement.

Maybe he was just more vulnerable with you than with the others, but a thirteen-year-old's reasoning didn't go that far.

With your foolish conclusion, you came home that day with a heavy heart.

-

Speaking of loose ends and unresolved issues, there were some specific people who deserved to take home the award and the crown for the most intrigue of the century. Because when you entered Choi Dohyun's office, with Seojun and Yuna on either side, even knowing that there were things still pending answers and others you could barely understand, the last thing you expected was for those you weren’t even aware of to suddenly materialize, like a kick to the stomach.

But keeping your head high and your composure was something you had lacked the last time, and thus, against all odds, your face showed no emotion when you caught a glimpse of Min Yoongi storming out of the office looking angry, not even when his eyes moved towards your figure and his wires crossed for a millisecond, betraying his movements. The sound of his shoes against the floor didn’t even distract you, keeping your gaze fixed on the man who appeared behind the door, with a huge smile on his face and eyes that screamed that signing this contract might take more from you than it would give.

Min Yoongi flanked you, a nearly imperceptible gasp of surprise escaping him as you passed by his side, not even giving him a glance of acknowledgment over your shoulder, as if he were less than a mere insignificant dust particle, and he collected himself as best he could to keep walking, ignoring the astonished looks your companions shot him.

You flashed the biggest smile, a feeling of anger settling deep in your stomach, and you shook hands with Choi Dohyun, who was cheerfully introducing himself with a voice an octave higher than usual.

You didn’t miss the way he shot a glance down the hallway, where Min Yoongi should have been disappearing, and the bitter sensation in your throat intensified.

“Well, don’t take it the wrong way, I’m very happy because we finally have this,” Yuna beamed, raising the envelope with the contract as if it were her most cherished possession, just as they exited the large publishing house and the cool afternoon air greeted them, “but did we just see the damn Min Yoongi leave that office?”

You simply sighed, feeling the tension radiate from your brother’s body, who hadn’t separated from you since the moment you were ushered away by Choi Dohyun's secretary.

“That was… wow. I don’t even have words.”

Seojun rolled his eyes, and you had to suppress the urge to pinch his side when Yuna turned to look at you with the envelope in her hands while you all waited to see your father’s blue car navigate the avenue.

“Do you think… this means we’ll have more opportunities to meet the seven gods of Olympus than most people?”

Her smile made you feel nauseous, but out of her ignorance, you could do nothing but try to mimic it. Seojun, on the other hand, was making nothing but irritated faces.

“Maybe, if you work harder.”

Yuna let out another squeal of excitement, and you took a deep breath when she turned around to look at the cars again. Seojun wrapped his arm around yours, glaring at anyone who came too close, even by accident.

Your friend kept murmuring in disbelief, and all you could think was that she was probably holding in her hands the worst decision you had ever made.

-

Whatever the reason for your encounter with Min Yoongi, you had deduced that your bad luck came down to being out of the house. Putting a foot outside the holy altar of your home was proving lethal for your emotional stability, so you spent the rest of the day locked up, managing your social media and overseeing deliveries.

Dohyun had agreed that the publishing house would handle the entire printing, packaging, and shipping process of the books, as purchases were only growing with each passing day. His real offer was to leave you with nothing to do but continue planning your stories, because at that moment, you were a goldmine for him.

“Unbelievable! Jung Hoseok revealed the truth behind the distancing of the Korean entertainment dynasty.”

The voice coming from Yuna’s phone caught your attention. You lifted your head from the blank document on your computer screen, glancing sideways at your friend, who was comfortably sprawled on your bed with a furrowed brow and a conflicted expression, as intrigued as she was worried about what she had just heard.

“These past few days have been tough for the kings of entertainment, as the last public sighting of them was over a week ago when Kim Namjoon, Min Yoongi, and Jeon Jungkook left the businessman’s building and enthusiastically greeted all their fans. As good followers, we know it’s too strange not to see them often, and the last time this happened was when Jung Hoseok had the accident that prevented him from continuing to play professional tennis.”

Yuna looked intensely focused, biting her nail and awaiting the climax of the video. You couldn’t help but roll your eyes, but you couldn’t deny you were a bit curious about what news they would share, knowing that the boys weren’t ones to openly discuss their private matters.

“With their reputations at stake and rumors flying back and forth [how exaggerated], Jung Hoseok had to come out to clarify the situation. His official statement, which was informally published on the famous app Whotalks, said: ‘We’re all fine. Please be patient with us.’ Whether his statement implies misunderstandings among friends that are in the process of being resolved or if we should wait for an official statement from their leader, we’re not sure. But it’s concerning the—”

“Why would they make such a big deal about this if they aren’t even sure what that post implies?”

Yuna paused the video, giving you a confused look, surely thinking you were immersed in whatever you were doing on the computer (nothing), too busy to pay attention to these “insignificances,” as you used to say.

“Y/N, you really have no idea of the magnitude of power these men hold over the entertainment industry. With a snap of their fingers, they could shake everything.”

“And why did they get so much power?”

“They earned it. Through their hard work.”

You couldn’t help the huff that escaped you. You didn’t find what Yuna had said funny because it was true; they had worked incredibly hard to achieve what they had at that moment. At least you knew that their beginnings had been humble. But it annoyed you, inevitably, because you couldn’t control the resentment shaking in your chest. Healing my ass, you hadn’t forgotten anything from the last few years, no matter how much you wanted to convince yourself otherwise. So much effort to force them out of your life, only for them to find a way to disrupt it again in a week as if they had some right.

What a bunch of audacious—

“Oh. A message came in.”

Your friend sat up on the bed, and you sent her a confused look.

“Messages come in every second, Yuna.”

“It’s from a verified account.”

Without lifting her gaze in your direction, you froze in your chair.

“Oh—”

Oh no.

“No fucking way—” Yuna stood up in the bed, exclaiming loudly: “Kim Taehyung is in your DM's!”

“Tell him to go to hell.”

“¿¿Huh??”

The words slipped out before you could think twice. From the tense way the words left your mouth, you could tell Yuna was torn between asking more or simply contradicting you. Her eyes moved from the screen to your face, her fingers moving almost imperceptibly over the device.

“You know, every time you make it harder to understand what’s going on with these people.”

Finally, she locked her phone and dropped it on one of your pillows. You had never been a fan; your friend understood that. She had never questioned you about it… except for that random afternoon in this same room when she asked too many questions, but after the encounter with Yoongi that afternoon, you wondered what moment or what would need to happen for her to stop believing that it was just a matter of taste differences and for you to have to tell her the truth.

Before everything that happened a week ago, you had never considered it necessary to talk about it because so much time had passed, and you believed you were at a point where things related to them really didn’t affect you anymore, nor would you ever have to interact with them again to warrant giving your friend a statement. But of course, things were different now, and emotions would continue to clash with one another, and you hated to think that their attitudes meant they were trying to return to your life, or at least get involved to some extent, which would imply, strongly, that you would have to tell Yuna what had happened.

“Have you ever thought that you might have run into him if you had gone to the convention?”

“Yeah...” you sighed in defeat. It was impossible not to consider that alternative, how things might have turned out. If you would still have this overwhelming resentment in your chest or if they would have carved their way back into your heart once more.

The foolish you at eighteen would be thrilled right now.

“And even with that doubt... don’t you have even a little curiosity about what he says?”

You preferred not to, to be honest. You would rather just rip out every memory from your head with tweezers to be able to return to a semi-normal life, where your biggest worry should be saving enough for a trip and not when those damn lunatics were going to leave you alone.

But you found yourself stretching out your arm to take the phone when Yuna handed it to you, a grimace of insecurity settling on your face.

“I’m not going to ask,” Yuna spoke, and you sent her a glance just as she turned on the bed and took her own phone to continue watching her celebrity gossip. “I’m not going to pressure you.”

You didn’t respond. You lowered your gaze to the device in your hands, feeling a mix of relief and bitterness. Well, at least she had given you the opportunity to worry about that later.

The screen lit up, and there it was. A new message from Kim Taehyung.

thv Hi. It’s Jimin.

Huh?

You ?

The read notification arrived almost instantly after you replied. With your brow furrowed, you watched the bubble appear from his side of the chat.

thv I’m sorry for writing from Tae’s account, but you blocked me

Ah. Ah. Right.

After receiving the notification that Jungkook had followed you a few days ago, and especially because he had shown up at your work out of nowhere short after that, you had blocked everyone else with an Instagram account, just to be safe.

A small detail.

You Oh, yeah

That Jimin was trying to contact you, considering the context of the whole situation, wasn’t too outrageous. When you studied together, apart from being the first to start teasing others and fostering friendly banter, he was also the first to try to fix things because he couldn’t stand hostile and tense environments. It’s not that you thought he had a chance to fix anything now, but maybe you were a little interested in what he had to say. After several days, it was inevitable not to feel curious, right?

After the bubble appeared and disappeared several times, the message finally arrived.

thv Do you think we could talk in person?

You No.

thv I promise it'll just be me

You No.

thv It can be anywhere you choose

You I said no If you have something to say, write it If you don’t have anything interesting to say, then I’m going to block this account too

thv No Wait Okay.

The sound of Yuna’s phone had faded into the background of your mind. You kept your eyes on the typing bubble, fearing that maybe Jimin would change his mind and decide not to respond to the questions swirling in your head. Now that he was being so persistent, you were more eager to know. I mean, it was the least you deserved, right? Some kind of answer, some kind of reason, a why. Something to explain everything, because the root of that growing resentment in your chest was due to their lack of communication, to their ease in discarding you like a worthless piece of paper, not even caring if the air swept you away or the rain destroyed you.

They owed you something, and you had the right to an answer. You could have moved on, yes; you thought you had, yes; living with resentment in your heart affected a person’s life, yes... but God would be the only living being on earth and in the universe who wouldn’t feel even a pinch of pain for everything that had happened. For the inexplicable disappearance, for the disconnection, for the destruction of an incredible blind trust that was woven with that friendship you believed to be unconditional but ended up being one-sided. Who could really blame you for being cautious of them?

If when you cultivated that friendship, that friendly love, the fruits they returned to you were rotten, how could you simply trust? Who could?

thv I’m sorry for what happened. I know this was very abrupt, and it must have been strange for you

Strange, for lack of a better word. Strange was a euphemism.

thv I apologize on behalf of everyone.

You I’m not interested

thv If we could meet in person, I could explain better

You I’m not interested. That wouldn’t change anything.

thv I know this goes beyond what happened this week, but I don’t want you to have a bad impression

You You’re a damn audacious one, Jimin Do you think it’s only the latest thing that would make me see you all negatively? Is that the only thing you’ve done? Or well, what you haven’t done either

thv Okay, I expressed myself very poorly I know we were already on bad terms before; I meant that I didn’t want it to get worse

You Well, honestly, I didn’t think it could get worse until now.

thv I’m making it worse

You Wow, apparently you do have awareness and common sense For many years, I thought you lacked that

You blocked the phone, letting it drop onto the table, your heart racing because of the audacity that man had to refer to what had happened as if it were just a silly childhood memory, as if it had simply been a stupid basketball game where you weren’t allowed to play. That only reinforced your thinking, the only plausible reason you had given life to over the past few years, the only explanation you had for their disappearance: that they never cared about you as much as you did about them; that you were never truly fundamental in their lives. Because, come on, they had built a friendship and shared memories before you appeared on the scene; they knew each other beforehand with a depth you could never reach, long before your name reached their ears. They had a connection; you were never ignorant of that; there was something in them that kept them united, something that made them understand each other almost on a spiritual level, and naively, you believed they had made you a part of it; that you had managed to be part of that connection.

But no, it was never like that. It was always one-sided. Whether you were a game, a case of charity, or someone they simply couldn’t say no to, you had no idea, but none of those options felt too foreign to reality. Especially considering the way Jimin referred to the past as if it had been a child's game and nothing more. There was never more for them. You should've known that.

thv I’m really sorry, y/n I truly wish I could talk to you in person I promise I can explain many things

His messages shone on the lock screen, and more than feeling curious again, you felt rage. So now they could talk. Now they could fucking communicate. Where was that willingness ten years ago? Five years ago, even? You never thought you would see any of them so willing to offer you what you had longed for, maybe at least to finally bring closure to the whole situation.

But you didn’t want to give them the right to become the victims in this situation. They had time to do something, yes, now you knew, and they simply chose not to; it was high time you really let it go. Let them go. What would an explanation fix now? When, if there was still something of the friendship you built, it should've crumbled to dust. Their willingness now meant nothing. If you ever saw any of them again, you would rather rip their hair out in a fit of rage.

You Fuck you Fuck all of you

And you blocked Taehyung’s account.

Anticipating any possibility, you also blocked Jungkook and hoped that would be the end of it.

Finally, you would try to seek true healing, because it was about damn time.

-

You y/n, I'm so sorry y/n? y/n????????????????

Oh no. Taehyung's going to kill me.

“What the hell are you doing?”

Speaking of the king of Rome.

Park Jimin flinched, tightening his fingers around the phone he was holding, which clearly wasn’t his, literally caught red-handed. He swallowed hard when his friend’s footsteps drew closer, circling around to face what he feared most.

“Jimin...” Taehyung began, his confused expression turning into caution, quickly shifting his gaze between the phone and the wide-eyed blonde. “Tell me you didn’t do it.”

Jimin shrank even more, pursing his lips, realizing there was no escape. In his defense, he had fervently believed for a moment that he would succeed. Taehyung hadn’t agreed from the start, especially given how angry Yoongi had been that afternoon when he arrived at the penthouse and how he had locked himself in Namjoon’s office, and the tone of their voices hadn’t diminished for even a second, especially not when Jin arrived an hour later.

Taehyung and Jimin weren’t sure what had happened, but considering the recent events, they could make an educated guess.

It all led back to you.

They were surely paying for what they did.

“I told you it was a terrible idea!” Taehyung strode closer and snatched the phone from Jimin’s tightly clenched hands. Jimin let out a defeated sigh, sinking back against the couch as Taehyung began to scroll through the messages, growls escaping his throat.

“I didn’t think she’d be so...”

Jimin hesitated, and when he turned to look at his friend, his furrowed brow silently asked, “are you serious?”

Another defeated sigh escaped him.

“You’re not fixing anything. If Namjoon finds out about this...”

Taehyung didn’t finish his sentence, but Jimin understood. But could any of them really blame him? Let he who is without sin cast the first stone! No one was a saint in that place when it came to you. At least he had the decency to try to explain things when the others just charged in as if nothing had ever happened (for now, Taehyung and Jungkook, simply because he still had no idea what had happened with Yoongi).

The problem, of course, was that Jimin was better at comforting someone in person than through messages.

“There's no going back from this.” Taehyung murmured, still focused on the screen. The shine in his eyes gave Jimin an idea of what was going through his mind, and he remained silent until Taehyung looked up. “We really messed up.”

“Did you need this reality check?”

“Did you?” Taehyung frowned. “I don’t know why you expected a different response.”

“Well, what did you expect to happen doing what you did?”

Jimin watched his friend click his tongue.

“What did you expect me to do? I didn’t think it would snowball like this.” Taehyung shook his head, and Jimin barely recalled with a shudder how the atmosphere had felt in the penthouse after Tae had posted that story about your books on his Instagram. “I just wanted...”

Once again, Taehyung chose to remain silent, but in his absence of words, Jimin understood.

To make up for it.

“Obviously, I’m not going to say anything,” Taehyung added, shooting a sideways glance at his blonde friend. “After whatever happened with Yoongi, I don’t even want to imagine how Namjoon would react if he finds out about this.”

“If he finds out what?”

Jimin and Taehyung froze on the couch, watching through the reflection of the TV as the person appeared behind them before they could recognize the friendly yet concerned tone.

Jung Hoseok circled the couch, clearly troubled by what he had just heard. It was evident he had just returned from practice because his hair was wet and he looked somewhat flustered, his cheeks flushed despite the chilly weather that night. He dropped his training bag on one of the armchairs, and Jimin averted his gaze when he caught his friend's eyes. It wasn't that they usually kept secrets and tiptoed around the others, but ever since Jungkook had pulled that stunt of searching for you at work when Namjoon had expressly forbidden it, the waters between them had been a bit tense, and any topic involving you could explode any healthy and cooperative conversation in seconds.

Hoseok crossed his arms, allowing his cheerful expression at finally arriving at the penthouse to fade completely, hardening his features as he shot a stern look at the two young men.

Taehyung also averted his gaze. The moment he heard Hoseok's voice, he tucked the phone between his legs and probably looked tenser than he should have. He, just like Jimin, didn’t dare meet Hoseok’s eyes at that moment. Because Hobi had stopped at the door, and with whom they had in front of them, they couldn't hesitate. They both knew it, they both understood.

And Hoseok knew very well. He was aware of all the tricks the two shared and could sense from their silence that they were up to something. Besides, of course, their conversation had been overly revealing. They had to be thankful it was him who arrived in the midst of their confessions, and of course, he would demand to have a conversation of such gravity with such freedom.

But no, in that house, secrets were not kept.

“If he finds out what?” Hoseok emphasized the words, urging the stubborn young men to keep their mouths shut.

Hoseok then exhaled through his nose in a sigh.

“Is it about y/n?”

Jimin and Taehyung lifted their gazes, a bit tempted but diverting their eyes as if pretending to be uninterested. While the atmosphere had been very tense lately, Hoseok and Jin had kept themselves somewhat distanced from all that unease, mainly because their demanding jobs kept them away from the penthouse most of the time. Namjoon, for his part, couldn’t escape the topic as easily since he had an office at home, initially to monitor them in a healthy way, and now because he felt the need to keep an eye on each of them to prevent them from doing something stupid.

Yoongi... well, maybe he had tried to stay on the sidelines, but he had clearly failed miserably if he had ended up arguing with Namjoon and Jin.

“What did you guys do now?”

Hoseok's severe tone was chilling. Jimin remembered the times he had decided to participate in his dance classes, the few that he taught personally each month, and how he had felt Hoseok’s sharp gaze and his blunt comments about his steps in front of all the students. It was as if he became another person. Although it was terrifying, the two young men admitted it was refreshing to see him like that in the academy, because he had lost a bit of his spark since his accident. Before, he only looked that serene and committed when he was at his tennis practice.

At that moment, however, Jimin and Taehyung appeared more reluctant despite his severe attitude, because they didn’t know if he would spill the beans to Namjoon afterward.

“And what happened with Yoongi?”

The slight softness in his tone made Jimin lift his head. Still with his arms crossed over his chest, Hoseok sat across from them at the table in the center of the room.

Jimin sighed, and Taehyung shot him an alarmed look. Are we really going to give in this quickly?!

“We don’t know what happened with Yoongi. He just arrived in the afternoon, locked himself in the office with Namjoon, and they wouldn’t stop arguing. Then Jin came in, but that didn’t make them stop.”

Hoseok looked up, scanning the hallway. Now the house was silent, perhaps more grave and tense than usual. Hoseok didn’t know how it had come to this and hadn’t sensed that atmosphere immediately.

“Is Jin here?”

“I think he’s in his room,” Taehyung replied, shifting on the couch. “He stormed out of the office a while ago.”

Hoseok grimaced at the mere thought, causing a shiver.

“Then it is about y/n.”

Jimin and Taehyung once again averted their gazes.

“Oh, come on.” Hoseok uncrossed his arms, more frustrated than angry at that moment for not being able to fully understand what was causing so many arguments among his friends. “I’m not going to go talk to Namjoon later, regardless of what you tell me. I just want to understand.”

The two young men exchanged a glance, Hoseok believed, communicating mentally. It was always strange but interesting how those two could understand each other at such a level that often they didn’t even need a look. They could support each other's ideas without overthinking it, just like they were doing at that moment in front of him, and Hoseok couldn’t help but think that this topic could cause them more harm than they realized. That these two were even hesitant to share something with him now, fearing to do so, considering whom they could trust or not, spoke volumes about how this issue was being handled and it was not healthy at all.

Hoseok didn’t know that Namjoon had been arguing. The only time he had talked about that topic with the others was when Jungkook’s incident happened, because by crossing such a clear and blatant line, Namjoon saw the need to have a group meeting to set some ground rules. But whatever had continued to happen that he was unaware of was creating cracks in the trust of all the members, and that didn’t sit well with him at all.

“I wrote to her on Taehyung’s Instagram,” Jimin began, looking down with his hands intertwined on his legs. “And I might have made things a lot worse...”

“Might have?” Taehyung turned to look at the blonde, who barely raised his head to meet his gaze before Hoseok interrupted.

“And what did you say to her?”

Jimin pressed his lips together. “I asked if we could meet in person, and when she said no, I just tried to apologize for everything.”

“Don’t forget that you proceeded to carry out a rather undisguised gaslighting.” Taehyung added.

“I didn’t manipulate her!”

“You spoke to her as if everything that happened didn’t matter at all!”

“That’s not how it was! I just expressed myself very poorly,” Jimin exclaimed, facing Taehyung’s accusations, who remained with his arms crossed and chin raised, clearly in disagreement with him. “You, more than anyone, know that I don’t communicate well through text.”

“Because you overthink everything. You didn’t even need to text her in the first place. I told you it was a terrible idea. Now she hates us even more!”

“Did she say that?” Hoseok intervened.

Taehyung gave him a disbelieving look.

“And I quote: fuck all of you.”

Hoseok took a deep breath, trying to process the situation. Taehyung looked angry, and Jimin appeared offended that Taehyung was so upset about what he had done, in addition to misrepresenting his words, if Hoseok understood correctly. But the brown-haired guy had a point: it had indeed been a terrible idea, and Namjoon would lose all his hair if he found out. He understood Jimin’s motivation for trying to reach out, but Hoseok felt Jimin had lost some tact in the process by approaching you just to find a quick solution. Clearly, the atmosphere in the penthouse was affecting everyone, and not in a good way. He couldn’t judge or blame Jimin for trying to lighten the situation for both parties, even if he could have approached it differently.

So Hoseok sighed, understanding the magnitude of the problem they had, and turned to the two young men who were now looking at him attentively, after recently avoiding his gaze as if their lives depended on it.

“How did you think you were going to meet her with the level of fame you have?”

Hoseok knew Jimin had acted on impulse, and perhaps addressing the underlying reasoning would make him think better next time, if there was one.

Jimin opened his lips slightly, confused.

“I... I don’t know, but I would've found a way.”

Taehyung scoffed. That would have been impossible because, surely, only after Jungkook, Jimin was one of the most recognizable faces in the industry and, therefore, couldn’t walk freely down the streets without having a horde of fans behind him within seconds. If, for some divine reason, you had agreed to meet with Jimin, then he would have exposed you too much to the public eye and you would have had more problems before getting any answers.

“There’s no way, Jimin.” Hoseok spoke, as the blonde shot a fierce look at his brown-haired companion. “We’re no longer in a small town.”

The two young men turned to the elder, putting their silly squabbles aside. A feeling of nostalgia and longing filled the air, embracing them and bringing to the surface poorly buried memories in the gardens of their minds; the gusts of Hoseok’s words uncovered them easily.

“We can’t afford that luxury now. We lost the opportunity a long time ago.” Hoseok reminded them, with a hint of discord in his voice.

Taehyung hated remembering those times. Having had his hands tied, sealing his mouth voluntarily, believing he had no other option... it completely sickened him. For a long time, regret had physically drained him.

“I won’t talk to Namjoon, don’t worry.” Hoseok assured them, and although the two young men should've breathed with relief, the truth was that they already felt too shaken. “But be more careful about where you talk about these things.”

“What things?”

“Fuck!”

Taehyung jumped off the couch when the voice came from his right, being the closest to the source. The three friends turned to see Yoongi, walking down the hallway from his room to the main living area of the penthouse.

“Are you guys sharing secrets?”

Instead of being scared, Jimin and Taehyung fell back onto the couch, letting out an exhausted breath. Yoongi shot a confused look at Hoseok, who returned it with a more severe expression.

“Come here, Yoongi. We need to talk.”

-

i hope you guys enjoyed! and thanks to my friend for helping my unresponsive overworked ass.

[Friend: I don't know if the tags worked. I'm sorry!]

tag: @rinkud @futuristicenemychaos @pastelpeachess @parapiop7 @11thenightwemet11 @yoongznme @queenbloody @lynnettys-world @darlingz99 @dreamerwasfound @chaotickyrith @kokoandkookie @midiplier @thunderg @lizzymizzy-blogg @ladymorrie @butnotmontana @lovelgirl22 @jjeonjjk7 @aurorathi @ot7stansthigs @kunacat @borahaetelevision @mylovingstars @ghostlyworld @talyaaas-blog @slowlyshycomputer @jjk174 @maynina @kariningss @juju-227592 @zippaur @v4ksk4tz @kookierry @idk179634 @canarystwin @jincapableoflove @notrustfratedjin @elliott-calls @devilzliaison @ismelllikechlorine247 @19yearoldjstryingtolivelife @thatgirliehan @yuuuumii @welcometomyworld13 @sugarbaby69x @whoa-jo @cerulean1riz @kawennote09 @angelfuzzy2 @themoonsblueside @damn-u-min-yoongi

[zeta-in-de-walls]

A quick timeline of Tommy and Dream's friendship.

Dream and Tommy streamed together and they had a good time so Dream invited him to his server. Tommy streamed on the DSMP server and there's where he and the server both started to really blow up. Tommy and Tubbo were 16 and Dream was 21. (Tommy was on around 250k on youtube when he joined the server and Dream was at like 4 mil).

Dream gave Tommy a bunch of youtube advice around this time as well and they got into lots of long night calls as they were both pretty hardworking and interested in making it big on youtube.

When Tommy and Dream streamed together their streams were very popular. Their comedy seemed to mesh really well but there was some underlying friction. Tommy is hugely sarcastic and plays minecraft very ironically. He would at times like to misinterpret what people said and then remind them that he's a minor. Some of these jokes were funny. A few were more grating for me personally (Eg I never liked the 'what's the worst word you know' jokes). But yeah this was purely comedy and Tommy loves to take the mick out of his friends. Also sometimes Dream and his friends did make the odd inappropriate joke.

Eventually the server and the fanbase got really big and people got super invested into the minecraft roleplay. Tommy and Dream's exile arc where Dream played a cruel villain and Tommy his victim was particularly notable creating a huge narrative around their characters' dynamic.

Then Tommy started to get burnt out on the server. Everyone was a bit. Dream was also rarely ever online not to mention other things going on. Whatever the case, the DSMP was coming to an end.

There had been plenty of drama amongst the CCs and Dream had been through plenty. The most famous was the speedrunning cheating scandal. There was also the manatreed thing. But allegations started coming out that Dream could not ignore. He'd apparently been sexting a minor. A few other stories came out too. And fans began distancing themselves from Dream. There was pressure on the CCs too.

However, Dream had convinced the server of a new vision: Dream SMP season 2!! Reset the server and do it all over again. End all the current plots as best you can and get ready for more!!! So they made a terrible ending of them blowing up the server.

And then a lot of CCs spoke out and said they didn't want to do DSMP season 2. It didn't feel right. Maybe because of the allegations, maybe because the plot sounded bad.

So Dream pulled the plug on the idea. Tommy was probably not best pleased that season 2 tanked so soon after the dark ending.

But Dream came up with a new idea. THE USMP. It would be an international server with live translation or something. All we know is that he had gotten Tommy on board and Tommy was excited by this. Tommy wanted to do another server with Dream still.

But yeah, the allegations hadn't gone away and a new drama surfaced. Quackity had plans for his own new SMP he was passionate about and Dream was threatened as it sounded so similar to his own plan. (They happened to have come up with the ideas independently.)

This erupted into drama as Quackity left Dream on read and didn't engage with him.

And Dream's server.... didn't happen. Again the server he'd promised Tommy didn't seem any closer to being realised. Just like in the DSMP, Dream wasn't shown to being much good at organising anything. The ending of the DSMP was badly managed because communication was so bad.

So as USMP wasn't happening, Tommy had been seeing what was happening, seeing both sides and wrote a skit. If youtubers were honest which made fun of Dream's response to Quackity given everything. Tommy was likely mad at the USMP's failure to manifest and also the internet was really turning against Dream. CCs in general didn't want to associate with him. Partially the allegations, but also he is a difficult CC to work with and Tommy was likely very aware having organised big videos and vlogs himself.

Dream was shocked by this video. He felt betrayed at Tommy and thought Tommy was being two-faced. Being sweet in private but milking him for views in public. So he became antagonistic towards Tommy.

At this point, Dream sent a DM to Tommy's mother complaining about him. Yeah.

Seeing Dream's crazy responses and also facing more wake-up calls about his teenage years with hindsight and the Wilbur situation, yeah Tommy was very happy to cut ties with Dream.

He didn't make a huge deal about it but he stopped making content with him and he and his friends would sometimes joke about him negatively, sometimes on his podcast, sometimes just jabs here and there. He and his community were both anti-Dream though he'd never made any public statements about it, or what happened. The history was fairly private.

Until now, Dream saw Tommy making fun of xQc and decided to lash out at him and his fanbase and air out every issue he's had over the last few years. Tommy responded, and made it very clear he's blocked Dream and they're done.

[satorusugurugurl]

The Ghost in My Apartment

Summary: When you move into your new apartment, it comes with all the bells and whistles! Garden tub, balcony, and a sexy ghost roommate!

Pairing: Kamo Choso x AFAB!Reader

Warning: language, mentions of fire, death, ghosts, ghost sex (it’s kinktober play along), smut, unprotected sex

Word Count: 4.2K

A/N Kinktober day one: Ghosts! This was so much fun! Ugggh, I love him; let me bite his cheeks!! I hope you all are ready for a month of fun!!

For as long as you can remember, you have seen things other people weren’t able to see. Those things were spirits of the dead, ghosts. You began seeing these spirits at the right age of 10 years old. Your grandma often told you that it was a blessing, a gift, and one that you often ridiculed and hated because seeing ghosts wasn’t like it was in the movies or television shows.

Some of them were terrifying, mangled, bruised, beaten, and bloody. Seeing those kinds of things when you were still growing up could leave scars. Most of the time, you did your absolute best to ignore the spirits that you saw—until you were eighteen. Around this time, the ghost of an elderly man approached you. He was kind and gentle, and all he wanted was help. So, against your better judgment and your reservations, you decided to help him.

He only wanted to tell his wife where the key to their safety deposit box was. When you went to this woman’s home, she thought you were crazy. But her whole demeanor changed when you begged her to check his rain jacket. She had gone from cold and uncaring to a sobbing mess. She thanked you profusely, offering you money, which you declined. No amount of money in the world would satisfy her more than seeing a smile on her face.

From that day on, you made it a point to try to help any other spirits you encountered. Some were far beyond to help, becoming nothing more than a poltergeist. Most of the time, you were lucky enough to help those in desperate need find their way to light.

It was sort of your side hustle. Aside from working at a local bookstore, you did everything in your power to help those you could come across or help families who would reach out to you after hearing about what you had done for others in the past. But you did your best to keep that part of your life separate from your mundane daily routine until you moved into your new apartment.

“Yes, the last family that lived here suffered a great loss. The older brother of the family was gravely injured in a fire. That’s probably why the rent has dropped so much. You know how people are with the superstitions of the dead.”

Your lip twitched as you followed the elderly woman up the stairs to your brand new apartment, which you just found out had experienced a recent death, and that meant one of two things may happen. Either the spirit of the young man who had died would still be lingering in your apartment, burnt to a crisp, or he had moved on peacefully. You wouldn’t be able to know until you took a chance to look around.

It might take a few days, but you would eventually get your answer. Sometimes, spirits were still very much like humans. They kept their distance, but eventually, they would sometimes come forth and tell you what they wanted or needed help. You had gotten over your fear of the different appearances over the last few years, but the thought of seeing a person who had been severely burned in a fire was something you weren’t looking forward to.

“But aside from that, the view is beautiful, and your neighbors are nice. I do believe you will enjoy your time here.”

“I have a good feeling about this place. I’m looking forward to living here.”

The landlord gave you the key to your new apartment and a set of rules, like when your rent was due or what day the trash was picked up. These were the typical things you needed to know in case there were emergencies or if the power went out and you needed to call maintenance. Even after she had left, giving you all of the information you needed, you found yourself hesitating to open the door.

“Please don't be lurking around. At least let me get settled in, and then I’ll let you know I’m around if you need help.” You silently prayed to the unknown spirit if one was behind your door. With a twist of the key, you unlocked the door before heading into the apartment, finding it empty except for your furniture delivered and the boxes that had been brought in. Much to your relief, no ghost was roaming around exploring the living room.

Your ghostly roommate didn’t appear at all the whole time you unpacked and got settled in, which was comforting in a way. You had hoped that they had moved on, weren’t stuck to this earthly plane, and could spend eternity in paradise or be reincarnated. No one deserves to be stuck in the same place for all time.

You were sitting on the couch to watch a movie when you realized your hope for the spirit moving on had been a dream. While you stared at the screen, you felt the couch dip under the added weight of someone joining you. Over the years of seeing these spirits, you had realized that it was best to take your time and not make a big deal of their presence. Not daring to make sudden moves, you looked at the see-through silhouette next to you.

You would have expected it to be completely charred, seeing that there had been a fire in your apartment before. The spirit wasn’t burnt or injured in any invisible way you could see. Instead, he looked completely healthy, aside from a scar running down the side of his neck and arms. You were confident that if you were to remove his clothing, he would have burns elsewhere, but that didn’t take away from his at all.

The ghost was handsome, with dark hair tied up into two buns on top of his head, and a black tattoo had been etched into the skin across the bridge of his nose. Dark eyes were focused on the television. You could hear a clicking sound, most likely due to a tongue piercing, hitting his teeth. You had no clue who he was or his name; the only thing you knew was that this man was so good-looking. It was a shame that he had been taken from the world too soon.

“Fuuck,” you whispered, biting down on your bottom lip as you took another minute to look him over shamelessly. At this exact minute, he turned his head to look at you.

From the way that his eyes went wide, he wasn’t expecting you to be able to see him. But sure shit, you were eyeing him up and down like he was a tall glass of water on a hot summer day. The ghost scoffed, leaning back on the couch and shaking his head.

“If you're going to stare at me like that, at least you could tell me your name.”

“I could say the same thing for you, seeing that you’re in my apartment.”

The ghost jumped, eyes wide as he snapped his head toward you. “You can see me?” You laughed, nodding your head. The sudden realization had your newfound ghost roommate leaning back against the sofa, processing what you had just said. “Like you can really see me?” When you nodded a second time, the spirit laughed, running a hand over his face.

“What? Are you disappointed?”

“I’m a bit relieved. Death is pretty lonely.”

You frowned, finding yourself not interested in whatever was on the television. “I’m sorry, but I’m glad I at least could ease some of the loneliness.” You stuck your hand out towards him, Telling him your name, only to have him stare at your hand with amusement. “What?” The ghost shook his head, letting out a quiet huff.

“I think it’s just cute that you think I’ll be able to shake your hand.”

“Oh, right. I'm sorry. I forgot some spirits are dead even when they aren’t all that dead-looking.”

“No, you're okay. It really was cute. I’m Kamo Choso. Nice to meet you.” To play along with you, he reached his hand out, knowing it would go through you like his new form was with every solid object nowadays.

Much to his surprise, he felt you when his hand grazed over yours. Your skin was warm to the touch, and it felt like he was touching you. His hand didn’t pass through yours. It just gripped your hand, which surprised both of you. You stared at your joined hands in momentary shock before trailing your gaze up to Choso, who was just as shocked.

His eyes seemed to light up as his grip on your hand tightened. You couldn’t help but smile, eyes lighting up as you focused on Choso’s eyes, the way they trailed up your arm before meeting your gaze. There was a spark you had never felt with any spirits, let alone humans. It was, god, something you’d only read about in books.

“Well, it’s very nice to meet you, Choso.”

That was the beginning of your extraordinary and slightly complicated friendship. You both hung out, talking like roommates, watching television, and getting to know each other. And the more you got to know Choso, who loved his younger brothers, went to art school and loved to cook, the more your heart ached. Strangely, you mourned the man you would never get to meet. That was a strange pain that settled in your gut.

Those thoughts often find their way into your mind nowadays. You sighed, lying on your bed, watching Choso float above you. He was talking about how Yuuji, his younger brother, made a hotpot around this time of year. He went on and on about how it would be perfect on an October day like today. But you were more interested in how his arms looked in the tanktop he had on. How he appeared, and you began wondering what he smelt like, what he would taste like.

Why were all the good ones either taken, not into girls, or, in your case, dead?

Choso was just your type, and it hurt to know you would never get a chance to be with him. Choso looked down at you when you didn’t respond to his question about whether you liked chicken meatballs. When he looked into your eyes, he frowned, finding them flooded with tears.

“Well damn, I just asked if you liked chicken meatballs.” He said with a snicker, knowing damn well that was not the reason behind your tears.

“I-I’m just sad.” You whispered, wiping at your eyes.

“About what?” Choso slowly floated down, lying on the bed right next to you.

He watched as you fiddled around with your pajamas, sighing softly before you rolled onto your side, gazing into his eyes. “I’m sad about you.” Choso reached out, cupping your cheek in one hand. The chills are almost calming in a strange way. “It’s not fair.” Choso’s soul ached at the sorrow that flooded your voice.

“Honey—”

“It’s not fair that you died too soon! It’s not fair at all.” You sniffled, finally losing yourself to the swell of emotions swarming in your chest. “It’s not fair, Cho.” Those cool arms wrapped around you, pulling you close to his chest.

“I know—but I don’t regret it.” His words struck you like icy rain that was colder than his touch. You pulled back, peeking at him as he brushed the hair back out of your face. “I died, but I managed to save my brothers. If I were given the chance to save them from a burning building, I would do it again in a heartbeat.”

You had grown to know he loved his brothers endlessly. That was a God-given truth. Hell, that was one of the reasons you fell so hard for him, a ghost, the shade of a person who was no longer alive. For him not to regret his choice spoke volumes of his character—a character you would give anything to love for the rest of your days and grow old with.

“Do you have any regrets, Cho?” You asked as the tears finally stopped. “Anything you wished you got to do or things you would have done differently.”

“Yeah, there’s one thing.” He said with no hesitation.

The straightforward tone of his words had you sitting up, interested in what he had to say. “What’s that?” Choso followed your every move, sitting up, gently cupping both sides of your face as he stroked your cheeks with his thumbs.

“Not living long enough to meet you.”

His lips found yours in a passionate kiss that took your breath away. You gasped into his mouth, gently reaching out and gripping his upper arms as you kissed him back eagerly. Once again, sparks, no, that failed in comparison to the feelings blossoming inside of you. Fireworks were a better way to describe the passion coursing through your body as you melted against his cold, see-through form.

Choso shifted, laying on top of you, the coldness a stark contrast to the heat radiating through you. The sensation, while shocking at first, was one you found yourself craving. So you gave in to those desires, wrapping your arms around his neck, pulling him tighter against you as you whimpered and cried into his mouth as he kissed you as if he would never get the chance to do so again.

You broke the kiss first, panting heavily as Choso peppered kisses down your neck, moaning and grunting against your skin as he slowly slid his hand up your shirt, trailing over your tummy before coming in contact with your breasts. You inhaled sharply as the chill hardened your nipples before his lips found yours again. Kissing you with as much passion as he could muster, making the most of his time with you, making up for the lifetime he would miss with you.

“C-Choso!” You cried out as he gently twisted and teased your nipples between his thumb and forefinger, taking in the way your body twitched and melted against him. “Fuck!”

“I regret not living long enough to do all this to you with my body.” He snugged, tugging your shirt off with your help. “I regret not getting to grow old with you, to be with you, take you on dates.” He made quick work of his shorts before you both worked at his pants. “I feel a connection with you, and I wish we would have met sooner.”

As you tugged his pants and boxers down, you couldn’t have agreed more with him. The time you spent with Choso this far has been great. You had a genuine connection, but it is only so far. He couldn’t take you out on dates or leave the apartment. So, in a way, you selfishly wanted more. You longed for it, for him.

And goddamn it all! You were going to have him in every single way you could. Hands moved, working with clothes while caressing and roaming over bodies. In all of your years, all of your previous relationships, you have never had a connection like this.

Choso shifted, looking down as he positioned himself between his legs. “You want this?” He asked in such a gentle, sweet tone.

“Yes.” You whispered, grabbing a handful of his hair and bringing him down to your mouth, where you kissed him. “I want you.”

Not hesitating in the slightest, Choso moved, pushing that of his cock into your wet and willing pussy. You gasped, eyes going slightly wide at the cool sensation of him sliding inside of you. It was like temperature play but better. Choso growled in the back of his throat, a sound that chills up your spine. You want to hear more of the sounds he would make. You wanted all of him at once.

Not wanting to wait around or hesitate, you began to rock your hips up, pushing him further inside of you. The ghost above you shivered, falling slightly on top of you, but he braced himself on his arms to not crush you. There is a certain satisfaction in the way that you rolled your hips against him and how he reacted to your slightest touch.

“Holy fuck—Honey, that feels so good.” He whispered as he fisted the sheets, his cock throbbing inside of you. “P-please don’t stop.” he banged as you both began rocking and rolling against each other in the most sinful of ways.

You shuddered, gripping his arms as you rocked against him faster. Arching off the bed, the head of his cock hit all of the right spots deep inside of you, drawing out the pleasure, drawing out sounds from your that you had never heard before. It was perfect; Choso knew every part of your body, like where to kiss and how to move. There was a spark, a connection, and it made your heart ache because you knew you were meant to be together.

That realization, the truth, hurt so bad it killed you. You wanted to cry to curse the world for taking him from you before you two even met. The pain almost overrode the pleasure, but it was Choso’s kisses that made you release the grip of sorrow you were slowly clutching onto.

“I love you.” His voice was as smooth as honey. “I love you so damn much.”

You kissed him, slowly losing control of your rocking and gripping, allowing Choso to take the lead. He gripped the sheets, holding onto them as he slammed into you, rocking the bed, causing the sweetest sounds of pleasure to leave your mouth. Those sounds were like music to his ears as he shuddered, losing his self-control.

“C-Cho! L-love you!” you cried out, gripping his arms tighter. “L-love everything about you!”

Lips connected again as the room seemed to spin, and the bed creaked louder with each powerful thrust. Your moans grew louder, and the sound of skin slapping against your skin grew louder as your head writhed against the pillow. Choso cupped your breasts, squeezing them as the coil in your abdomen tightened, growing tighter and tighter, making your toes curl as you gasped out loud. Choso knew you were close.

You didn’t have a chance to warn him because he fucked into you, stealing the words from you. The orgasm was so intense you screamed, gripping onto him, crying out his name as you soaked his form and the sheets underneath you. Watching you come undone, crying out his name, had a warmth growing in his chest, one he hadn’t felt in so damn long.

Choso felt himself release, hips stilling as the overwhelming pleasure had him throwing his head back. God, he wished he was alive; he wanted to be inside of you, filling you up, making love with you. But he was sure these were fragments, memories of the past allowing him to remember what it felt like, but this felt so much better. This was real and true, but also painful because he could never be with you however he wanted.

“Cho~” your breathy whisper drew him back to the present, “mhmm~”

“You’re so perfect.” He whispered, pulling the sheets over your bare body. “I would have loved you in so many ways.”

You hummed, cuddling into his body, humming as the chill cooled your body down. “You already do, and I love you too.” Choso frowned, stroking your air as you slowly fell asleep in his arms.

That familiar warmth settled in his chest, and he knew it was his time to go. There was a voice calling him, a light drawing him in. He didn’t want to leave you, but the warmth in his chest grew hotter and hotter, and the once solid form you could touch was nothing more than air. Choso frowned, watching your arm slip through his body, landing on the mattress below you.

Choso sighed slowly, sliding out of the bed. He approached the balcony where the bright light was waiting for him, calling his name. But before he stepped outside into it, he took one final look over his shoulder, smiling sadly at your sleeping form.

“I’ll see you in the next life. I love you.” Choso stepped into the light with a gulp, leaving the apartment behind.

The following morning, you woke up, not finding Choso anywhere. You searched and called out his name for close to an hour before coming to the sudden and cold reality that Choso was gone. Part of you was happy that he could move on and find his peace, but the selfish part of you wished he would have stayed. But what you wanted didn’t matter; he was gone, hopefully at rest now, leaving you to mourn a man and relationship that never was.

That pain sat in your stomach like a rock, weighing you down for weeks. You tried to find joy in the little things in life. Reading your favorite books, watching your comfort movies, and making your favorite foods. But nothing seemed to fill the void your ghost roommate left behind.

This went on for a few months, and you finally started feeling like yourself again. The pain was still there, of course, but it no longer weighed you down like a ton of bricks. You felt more relaxed leaving the apartment, finally healing. You were less sad about Choso finding peace and more happy that he was finally at rest.

His warm, dark eyes were on your mind as you pulled out some cookies from your oven when there was a knock on the door to your apartment. You hummed, taking off your oven mitts and opening the door to find a young man with tufts of pink hair staring down at you. He smiled, bright eyes twinkling as he shoved his hands into the pockets of his yellow hoodie.

“Hi! Sorry to bother you. My name is Itadori Yuuji, and I used to live here.” He swayed back and forth, pursing his lips together in thought. “I uhm—well, my brother told me about a fire safety box he hid in one of the vents, so we came to collect it if that’s okay.”

“Oh,” this was Yuuji, Choso’s younger brother. Finally, getting to see the young man in person felt surreal. “Uhm—”

“If it’s not a good time, I can come back later.”

“No, no, sorry, uhm, I just—it’s nothing. Please come inside.”

Yuuji grinned, nodding his head, turning towards the stairs. “Hey, bro! She said it was okay!” You stepped further into your apartment, hugging yourself as Yuuji took his shoes off. “My brother is right behind; he just takes longer to climb the stairs.” The clanking of a can hit the floor as a shadow stretched out across the floor.

“I just got out of the hospital. I think that’s a valid excuse.” That voice, you knew that voice. “I’m sorry for the intru—” That voice you loved, the one you thought you would never hear again, trailed off. “Have we met?”

Kamo Choso, the ghost you had fallen in love with, stood in front of you, very much alive and well, gripping a cane. He had burn scars just like his ghostly form, but he was here, solid, and no longer saw thought. Seeing him, hearing him, and smelling the musky scent of spices and amber had your heart crawling up your throat as you stepped forward. Your eyes frantically searched his face, making sure he truly was there, alive and standing in front of you.

“Not formally.” You whispered, grinning as tears blurred your vision as a certain softness crept into his features. You held your hand out, telling him your name with a smile.

Much like the first time you met, Choso stared at your hand with tears in his eyes before he took it. This time, instead of being like ice, it was as warm as could be. That sensation had him smiling as he shut his eyes as if this wasn’t the first time you had met but a reunion.

“I’m Kamo Choso, it’s nice to meet you.”

“I couldn't agree more.” you motioned towards the kitchen. “Well, Choso, could I offer you some cookies?”

“I like the sound of that. But in exchange, would you let me take you to dinner sometime.” His grip on your hand tightened. “I can’t get over this feeling that I know you from somewhere.”

“Maybe from a dream.”

Choso beamed down at you finally releasing his grip on your hand as he followed you into the kitchen. “Well, I hope that dream becomes a reality.” You bit down on your bottom lip with a knowing smile. That dream was going to become a reality because this was a love that transcended both life and death.

Forever Tag List:

@darkstarlight82 @pandoness @nealeart @simp-plague @sugurubabe @chilichopsticks @reap3erslov3 @wil10wthetree @msniks @lana18918

Kinktober Tag List:

@candy-s72

[wanderingmind867]

I know there are probably more vent posts and stuff that I could make, but I keep getting too distracted to make them. Personally, I'm blaming the ai chatbots for me not making the posts. They're oddly addictive, and it's hard to kick the habit of engaging with them. I have to assume I'll kick the habit eventually, but it's apparently a hard habit to kick. And because they're so easy to get distracted by, I forget to make new posts. Even when I have post ideas.

So I apologize if I've made less vent posts (or posts in general) lately. I just get distracted. And i believe i'll the habit eventually (and maybe that'll lead me to post more), but I don't know if that'll be a good thing or a bad thing. It could just lead to me suffering more boredom. So I don't know. It's just... complicated or something, I guess. Sigh...

[charrfie]

I recently had a clinical trial related dream and wanted to draw some moments from it. Below the read more I've included my dream journal entry of it and another bonus sketch!

The dream takes place after the events of the game itself, where angel and lee had been living together for roughly a year now. They settled into a schedule and were well accustomed to their daily rhythms. Angel, however, had used this time to start considering what they wanted to do with their life. Now that they weren't reliant on a paycheck to paycheck life, they could consider options and career paths that actually brought them joy, weren't detrimental to their health, and weren't too demanding of them. And so, for the first time in a long while, angel considered going back to college. Lee was quick to encourage them! They didn't know what they wanted to do quite yet aside from being in a creative field, so they planned to go in for general courses and eventually settle into a certain path. Unfortunately for lee, the college they would get into was states away (a couple days drive), and so he missed them terribly but still cheered them on in following their passions.

At first, they had some difficulty making friends. They weren't eager to open up and were afraid that if they did make friends there, they would eventually get burnt out from school a second time and leave them behind. Their favorite class in the first weeks turned out to be a film class! Their roommate also ended up in this same class, and so as luck would have it, they became fast friends despite angel's worries. She was a very adri-equivalent character.... though she WAS someone else in this dream. Unfortunately though, angel would also go on to make enemies with a girl in the same class that was incredibly rude to them for no reason, sabotaging them throughout the semester, tripping them, talking smack about them in front of their face, etc. Even going so far as to spread rumors about angel that almost got angel suspended from the school. It was probably transphobia or something idk; there's no other discernable reason for the random hatred campaign she was running. Thankfully, angel was still well-liked by their classmates and teachers. But it did wear on them.

Lee calls to check up on them often, always offering to make the drive up there in case angel needs anything, though angel is quick to assure him things are working out. They do confide in him about their bully, which he can tell is bothering them, even if they brush it off. He's worried sick about them being so far from home and having to deal with that.

As the semester nears it's end, and angel is getting ready to go back home in a couple weeks for break, they begin making a breakthrough with their bully. Again, for no discernable reason! All of a sudden she's nicer to them, even if there's traces of malice in their interactions with one another. Maybe school WILL be alright, they think. If this works out. If it's all settled. Maybe she's starting to see me as a person instead of a freak to harass.

With the closing of the semester comes two things: one, finals are due. In angel's film class, they're meant to bring in a final film they've shot to present to the class. As these presentations are happening, they're set to have a party in class, with everyone bringing different foods to eat while the watchparty happens! Two, after finals are completed, the last two weeks of the semester will be spent on a field trip where everyone will stay at a fancy hotel and get to go on museum trips to learn about art/film. So of course, angel excitedly speeds to class the morning of the watchparty, only to stop in their tracks when they see a very suspicious looking lee that is painfully aware he is not doing a very good job of hiding. As angel walks up to him, he visibly deflates, trying to excuse it with "I just wanted to make sure you were okay, I was worried." Angel gives him a hard time about it, saying "you couldn't have waited two more weeks?" Despite their teasing though, they feel bashful about the fact that he drove all that way with the intention of just checking on them in secret and driving back home immediately after. So they tell him that they have to go to class, but once they're done then they can let him stay in their dorm room, he only needs to busy himself in the meantime.

They make it to class at the last minute, film hard drive and brownies in hand. Considering that they've been talking about lee all semester with their classmates, they're eager to mention that he's visiting the campus today, so everyone's free to meet him if they want. They do note, however, that their bully isn't in class today, and they're admittedly a bit relieved because- even if they've been making progress with her- they still would rather not send out an open invitation for her to hang out after class. As they settle down and the first films are being pulled up by the teacher on the projector, somehow (AND DON'T ASK ME HOW, ITS JUST DREAM LOGIC) the projector screen at the front of the room suddenly lights up with security camera footage of a random hallway at the school (WHY DID THE TEACHER HAVE ACCESS TO THIS AND WHY WAS IT THE COMPUTER DEFAULT????), and on it is lee chasing down angel's bully into a stairwell. The teacher does not make note of this because she's having too much difficulty figuring out technical problems with plugging in the students' hard drives, so angel darts out of the classroom unnoticed, along with other class friends that follow them.

While I don't remember the exact details of the conversation that followed, angel explained to everyone that they needed to find those two before anything bad happened, and the group split up. Cue running around the school montage! Angel kept trying to call lee in hopes that they could distract him and find out where he was, to no avail.

Out of breath and awfully dizzy after 15 minutes of sprinting around the campus, angel shakily walked out onto a random balcony to get some fresh air and sit down, only to find lee sitting out there already. A lee with........ blood on him, they found. It wasn't a lot, just enough to notice it on his face and a few drops on his shirt. But it was enough to get angel mad enough that they forgot about their dizziness. As soon as lee noticed them, he looked at them silently like a sad, wet puppy who knows he's about to get in trouble. And he was. Bc angel was fucking pissed, not frozen and terrified like the last time they found brandon's body. Not only were they furious over the fact that the day they had been so looking forward to got interrupted by this, not only were they furious that lee had done this AGAIN after promising he wouldn't ever, but the fact that they had been making actual PROGRESS in the relationship they had with this girl and had other ways of addressing it was really the cherry on top. So they fully let into him for it, getting angry enough that they were brought to tears.

Again, the details of the conversation are fuzzy, but I do remember at one point lee said "the people that have passed me on this balcony keep asking ME if I'm alright because they think I've just had a nose bleed," kind of cluing angel in on the fact that he very intentionally didn't clean himself up because he knew he wasn't supposed to do this again and wanted to self sabotage by getting caught before angel could see him. Angel doesn't know what to say or how to handle the situation at all, so they tell lee to just go back to their room, exasperated, and they'll figure out what to do about this later.

There's a bit of a time skip after this point. I know angel returned to their room at some point, only going back to class to tell their teacher that they weren't feeling well and needed to leave early. I can't recall what happened to any evidence of the murder, but it was never an issue. And for the next few days angel makes lee follow them around EVERYWHERE, even on their field trip, bc they don't trust him not to go off and do something stupid (either to someone else to himself). They even make arrangements for him to come on the field trip with them because they don't want to let him out of their sight.

The rest of the dream is the fuzziest (and also I'm tired of writing), but it revolved around the two slowly trying to repair their relationship. Even after the field trip was over and break had started, angel said that they didn't want to go back home and wanted to spend more time away from the house, thinking that maybe their distance from lee at college had perhaps allowed him to spiral into his unhealthy thought patterns again, which he never mentioned over the phone since he wanted to make room for angel's grievances, considering how much they are dealing with. Maybe being on vacation might help. And despite how heavy everything in the dream was prior to this, it eventually lead to some especially cute moments between the pair. Also I remember tammy from anthology of the killer being there at one point for some reason. The end that's all I'm writing. Thank you.

[nibbelraz]

The SVSSS truth pollen trope except both SJ and YQY get hit with the pollen, and in fear of accidently saying something wrong they avoid each other like the plague.

The other Peak Lords aren't confused by SQQs actions this is normal for him however its extremely unnatural for YQY to avoid SQQ and even refuse to talk about him.

So since they can't get anything out of YQY, because he's so insistent of keeping shut that he's coughing up blood, they try to pry SQQs lips open.

And surprisingly SQQ let's it all out, like a water fall he can't stop talking about history with YQY(although while trying to avoid the details that they were slaves)

He tells them how they were childhood friends and used to love each other and that he used to have a crush on YQY until YQY left him when he moved to Qiu Manor. Eventually the Manor got burnt down and he traveled as a rogue cultivator before rescuing from Wu Yanzi at the IAC. Then YQY never told SQQ the reason he left him which is why they have a terrible relationship. (He also let's it slip that he's not really sleeping with women and that he's just at the brothels because it helps with his sleep issues)

So now in the Peak Lords eyes, SQQ is essentially this heart broken maiden yearning for her long lost love who abandoned her. However despite that all the Peak Lords know YQY adores SQQ, he always defends him, as the youth would say it he stands with his canceled wife.

So now they're debating wether they should set the two up on a date or not. This debate becomes sect wide because nobody really knows if they should end up together.

This is interesting because i do agree that the sect would be divided in getting them together because some probably still don't forgive Shen Jiu for how he's been treating certain disciples like the air is cleared for some of the things he does but how he acts is still up in the air, so they would still be against setting them up with Yue Qingyuan BUT YUE QINGYUAN DOES STAND WITH HIS CANCELLED WIFE SO PEOPLE ARE LIKE WELL??? YUE QINGYUAN STILL ADORES HIM OBVIOUSLY

BUt but it gets more complex because ok we got everything out of Shen Jiu, but now the whole sect doesn't know why Yue Qingyuan left and Yue Qingyuan is SOOO Secretive to the point he's dying from refusing to say the truth so it's like

What happened

Why did he do that if he's obviously still obsessed with him

Why is he SO against saying the truth like now everyone is so CONFUSED they only have one side of the story the entire sect is in shambles

[meo-eiru]

How could Elias have met his darling? I kinda feel like they were long childhood friends, like in elementary perhaps even? A cute scenario that I keep thinking about...

Elias somehow got hurt on the playground, perhaps some boy in school was jealous of him and his looks? Perhaps they made fun of him for looking pretty, mocking him to put makeup on and play with the girls? (I feel like he'd be adored more by girls than boys, simply because he looks quite feminine in not a bad way)

So he is sobbing in the bathroom, standing in front of the mirror and somehow tries to fix his face. (Perhaps poor boy got some mud onto his face?)

And his darling didn't really interact with him before, so she just walks past the bathroom but caught onto the loud and dramatic sniffles and sobs. Perhaps she got curious and went to check up on him (despite it being the boys bathroom, another headcanon I have for his darling that she might be more of a troublemaker back then or a tomboy, so she didn't care if she simply went into the boys bathroom, she would've probably enjoyed the thrill of getting caught by a teacher and getting scolded)

So she literally just walks straight in without a second thought, Elias literally jumping in surprise from overall someone walking in on him crying. (We know our boy is a pretty cryer and he knows it too) But also jumping because it's a girl in the boys bathroom, him literally squealing for a while and his darling just being like: • — •

So after his dramatic ass calmed down, his darling fusses over him, simply because that's likely her nature-?? Like she immediately tends to him, reassures him, etc ! Simply giving him princess treatment and giving him her tissues, wiping off any dust and mud off of him with the most gentle care, despite her rough appearance. (I like the idea of polar opposites, a darling that looks more like a boy and a boy that looks more like a pretty girl)

So when Elias tells her about what happened on the playground, I feel like there are two options what is going to happen. (Perhaps even both could work out ngl..)

Like his darling beating the crap out of those bullies, a girl chasing the boys and the boys being scared of her. (I feel like she might be a very talented weirdo.. like she'd be a gifted kid that probably got burnt out very soon, I also see that Elias had the chances of being gifted too, but being trapped inside a box by his parents, so he never got to develop any of that)

Then perhaps his darling told him that he didn't need any friends, because he has her now and she'll be his friend! So then they had a lot of play dates and played together as kids, even if he was boring, she always tried to make him feel included💖💖

When other kids interrupted their playtime, I just feel like his darling would growl at any kid that she got bad vibes off of. Like she'd have such protective instincts for Elias, she just KNEW who was bad for him.

Bodyguard darling 💌

Awww this is so adorable!!! Elias is such a princess and the darling is his bodyguard😭💕

So first off, I'm so sorry but this was all I could imagine when you mentioned Elias crying in front of a mirror

Other than that I love itttt! Imagine them growing up and Elias still expecting that same dynamic from darling. Darling spending her entire school life protecting Elias like that and eventually getting a bit tired of it but not being able to stop because Elias won't let her and anytime she tries hanging out with someone else he starts crying and causing a scene.

[nick-writes-stuff]

Various Squid Game Characters x reader, A Chance Meeting After the Games

Includes: Thanos, Nam-gyu, Dae-ho, In-ho, and Gyeong-seok (Player 246)

!warnings: drug use (Thanos and Nam-gyu), canon-typical violence (All), implied fem!reader [reader called señorita] (Nam-gyu), Gyeong-seok is probably ooc, use of y/n (In-ho, Gyeong-seok), ~1k words each

a/n: hey guys! i've been cooking this one for a while but it's here now! i think i probably could have done these more justice by making them individual and fully fleshed-out fics, but i still like the way these turned out. hope you enjoy!

Player 230, Thanos:

The two of you never formally agreed to meet up anywhere. You hadn't thought about it because you had been so scared that you wouldn't make it out of there alive. He didn't consider it because he was high for a considerable amount of time.

But you both realized it the second you got back to your routine. Well, as routine as things could be after experiencing something like the games.

You found yourself missing the cheesy flirting and the pet names. But it was the quiet moments in between his rambunctious highs that truly stole your heart. Beneath the chaotic exterior, there was a man who cared about you more than he liked others to think.

He missed your flustered reactions and genuine interest in him. You didn't throw yourself at him because he was a celebrity. You didn't just like Thanos, but you saw him for Su-bong, a person he hadn't felt like for a long time.

It was a good thing Thanos was never hard to find. He was an up-and-coming celebrity after all, so it was very easy to find a show near you and buy tickets. You added the meet and greet package as well so you could talk to him. Normally, this would have been out of your price range, but that wasn't an issue anymore.

You had never heard of Thanos before the games, so you didn't really know what to expect. There was a part of you that assumed he had been exaggerating his influence in the games to appear cooler, but he clearly wasn't.

There were a few moments during the show where he thought he saw you in the crowd, but he disregarded it. Between the lights in his eyes, the sheer amount of people before him, and the drugs in his system, he didn't trust his own perception right now.

He was probably just seeing what his subconscious wanted him to. Because he really, really wanted to see you.

As the VIP ticket holders were being escorted to the designated meet and greet location, you listened to the fans talking highly of Thanos. It was oddly comforting to hear people praise him like you would. You got so used to the players in the game shit-talking him. You were glad that you weren't the only one who saw something good in him.

While you were in line, you eventually caught the gaze of Nam-gyu. He opened his mouth to say something, but you stopped him with a finger to your lips. He gave you a knowing look and a smirk, keeping quiet.

As you neared the front of the line, you looked down to your phone, trying to avoid looking at him so as to not spoil the surprise. You did hear a fan behind you give a distasteful comment about your demeanor, but you didn't care.

“Next.” Nam-gyu said, signaling you to step forward. You slid a CD case toward him. He didn't look up. You could see that he was getting a little burnt out from the sustained interaction with fans. Either that or the drugs were wearing off. Maybe both. “Who should I make it out to?” He asked, holding a marker in his hands.

You smirked slightly. "Player 438.” You said.

He started to sign it, getting his signature written and pausing as he realized what you said your name was. You could see his eyebrows furrow as he thought about it for a moment before looking up at you.

He gave a gasp of shock before laughing. “Oh my god, no way you're here!” He said loudly. He got up from his seat, walking around the table to pull you into a tight hug.

You laughed as well, hugging him back as you heard some of the fans who were still waiting murmur about you. “Of course I am, I missed you.” You said, soft enough that only he could hear it.

When he pulled away from the hug, you could see the goofy smile on his face and you couldn't quell the fluttery feeling in your stomach. “Bro, how did you know that I would be here?” He asked.

You were the one being confused now. You blinked a few times, trying to process what was going on. Did he just-

You stopped your train of thought when you noticed just how large his pupils were. He definitely wasn't sober right now.

You laughed. “Thanos, it's literally your show.” You said. He let out a soft “oh” when he realized his mistake.

He told you to stick around while he finished his obligations and you obviously agreed.

You, Thanos, and Nam-gyu spent the rest of the evening in Thanos's trailer. You all ordered an embarrassing amount of fast food to share between you three.

You all just sat on the floor and talked. There was a lot of catching up to do regarding what had happened since the games ended. It had been a month or two since you all had seen each other.

It felt like you talked for hours. You could notice the drugs leaving Thanos's system. His voice slowly got softer and his demeanor was becoming less chaotic.

Eventually you leaned your head on Thanos's shoulder, an action that actually made him blush slightly.

“I really missed you, you know?” He said quietly.

You smiled up at him. “I did, too.”

You were telling him and Nam-gyu about something your landlord had said to you, but his mind was elsewhere, trying to figure out how to ask you to go on the tour with him. He didn't want to be apart from you anymore.

----

Player 124, Nam-gyu:

“Do you think we'll ever see each other again after this?” You had asked before the vote. A few more games had taken place, and the player numbers had decreased enough that most players were satisfied with the amount they would be taking home. It seemed that you guys were really going to make it out of here.

His face remained blank. “Would you even want to?” He asked, sounding uninterested. But he was actually ecstatic that you even considered seeing him after this. He was just afraid you wouldn't be okay with his… hobbies.

You seemed confused. “Why else would I ask?” You responded.

He shrugged. “I don't know. I just didn't think clubs and drugs were your thing.” That wasn't something that was going away after this. Honestly, he knew himself and Thanos, some of this money was going to be used to go on a bender.

You sighed. “They aren’t. But I think I could tolerate it if I got to see you.” You said.

He rolled his eyes, trying to remain unaffected but you could see the faintest dusting of pink on his face. “You are so cringe.” He said with a scoff.

You gasped in mock offense. “Wow.” You said, crossing your arms. “I should have let you die during Mingle.” You spat with false venom.

He laughed, shaking his head. Your look of annoyance softened, smiling at your success in making him laugh.

When he spoke again, his tone was much more genuine. “Well, you'll know where to find me.” He said before nodding toward Thanos. The purple-haired man was tormenting Myung-gi again. “Wherever that dumbass is, I'm usually there babysitting him.” You both laughed.

When you got out, you had some things you had to deal with before you could think about seeking out Nam-gyu. You needed to find a new place and get things back into working order in your life. You had been kicked out of your apartment right before you had met the Salesman, so you needed to find a place to stay and replace most of your belongings.

Every day that passed after the games had ended felt like a weight on Nam-gyu's shoulders. At first, he tried to get rid of the feeling with drugs, but that was only a short-term solution.

Were you ever going to seek him out? Maybe you had just been trying to be nice to him. Did you ever actually intend on coming, or were you trying to let him down easy? Why did he think this would be any different? His brain couldn't shut off the rumination, and he hated it.

You did try to find him eventually. It had been a few weeks until you got back on your feet, but you couldn't stop thinking about how much you wanted to see him again. So when you heard Thanos would be doing a set at a local nightclub, you jumped at the chance to go.

You found your way across the dance floor, pushing your way through the crowd to get closer to the stage. You could hear members of the crowd talking about how excited they were to see Thanos perform, but that was the farthest thing from your mind.

When you got to the entrance of the backstage area, you looked around for any sign of him. You didn't see him, and it seemed like the bouncer had left the area for a moment. You entered the backstage, trying to seem as nonchalant as possible. People don't ask questions unless you don't seem like you are supposed to be there.

“Hey, what do you think you're doing?” You heard a deep voice call out from behind you. You winced, thinking of ignoring him but you ultimately turned around. “This is a restricted area. You can't be here.”

Before you could say anything, you heard a different voice. “Back off, they're with me.” You turned to see Nam-gyu with his arms crossed, giving the bouncer a glare until he backed down and left you alone.

You sighed in relief. “Thank you.” You said softly, taking a step toward him.

Before you could say anything else, Thanos emerged from what you assumed to be his dressing room. Upon seeing you, he laughed loudly. “Hey, I was wondering when you'd finally show up. Did you miss me, señorita?” He asked, a flirtatious glint in his eyes. From his demeanor, you could tell he was definitely high.

“Dude, what the hell?” Nam-gyu said with annoyance.

You chuckled awkwardly to try to clear some tension. “It's nice to see you too, but that's not why I'm here.” You said.

Thanos seemed puzzled, his brain taking longer to piece together the situation due to the substances. He scoffed and rolled his eyes. “Don't tell me you came here to see Nam-su and not-” You both corrected him in unison.

“Yeah. Nam-gyu, whatever. I-” Thanos said dismissively, but he was interrupted by someone calling for him. He sighed and went to see what they needed.

You looked back over to him. “I was starting to think you weren't going to come.” He said, trying to keep his voice level despite his excitement.

You chuckled. “I had to find a new place. I got kicked out of my old one.” You said. He nodded slightly, but you could see that there was a part of him that wasn't satisfied with your response. You smirked slightly. “Aww, did someone miss me?” You teased.

He rolled his eyes. “Oh, go to hell.” He said. He was thankful the room was dark so you couldn't see him blushing.

You laughed lightly. “If it helps, I missed you too.” You knew he missed you. He just had a different way of showing it.

----

Player 388, Dae-ho:

Ironically, you and Dae-ho had actually met multiple times before the games. You worked as a barista in the coffee shop he frequented.

You had never spoken very much outside of the typical pleasantries expected in the situation. The conversation had never gone much past small talk about the weather if his drink was taking longer than usual.

You both were caught up in your own struggles. You both had debts hanging over you, keeping your minds too busy to socialize. You helped your parents manage the shop, and the business was struggling to stay afloat. He had his own problems in his life, some demons he couldn't put to rest.

You both ended up in the games due to your debts. Neither of you recognized the other, but you both thought the other looked vaguely familiar. There were more important things to focus on at that time. Your fight or flight response took precedence over trying to figure out if you had seen each other before.

The two of you were very close, near inseparable, during the games. You both found comfort in the other's presence. You would talk about anything and everything under the pretense that these conversations may be some of the last. From embarrassing stories to your deepest fears, you both poured your hearts out to each other.

Before the last vote, he asked you a question. “Do you think we'll see each other again? Out there, I mean.”

You looked up at him. “I hope so.” You said softly.

His smile grew. “You'll miss me too much.” He said teasingly. It felt easier to joke with you than admit that he didn't know what he would do without you.

You feigned offense. “Oh, so you're saying you won't miss me then?” You asked.

He started to apologize but your smile betrayed you and he realized you were messing with him. He laughed, but he made sure to add, “I will miss you though. A lot.”

From talking further, you found that you lived in the same area, so maybe you would see each other after all. You hadn't thought about the fact you may have already met before.

About a week after you had been released, you were back at work at the shop. You were still working there even though you had enough money to live comfortably. You put most of it into the business and into your parents’ retirement fund.

You were making a drink as your co-worker was taking orders. It was quiet, so you were able to overhear their interaction with the customer.

“What's the name for the order?” They asked politely. “Kang Dae-ho.”

You were so shocked you almost dropped the cup in your hand. You set it down a bit too quickly, causing it to clatter against the counter and getting both of their attention. “Dae-ho?” You asked.

You met his eyes, and his lips curled into a smile. “Hey. It's so nice to see you.” He said softly. He seemed considerably less tense than how you were used to seeing him in the games. Happiness was a good look on him.

Your coworker looked back at you. “Oh, how do you two know each other?” They asked. Your eyes widened, looking over to Dae-ho realizing there was no good way to explain it.

“It's uhh... It's a long story.” He trailed. You agreed quickly. They seemed confused but eventually continued taking his order.

The shop was busy, so you didn't have time to talk in depth, to Dae-ho's dismay.

He left the building a little bummed out, but it was short-lived. He noticed on the side of his cup there was something else written aside from his name.

You wrote your phone number on the side of the cup, along with a note saying “Call me. I miss you.” You added a small smiley face with it.

He laughed. He couldn't wipe the smile off his face. He had been afraid he would never see you again, so meeting you like that was a relief.

He only wished he'd been paying attention to his surroundings more. He had gone to the coffee shop for years, and once he saw you behind the counter this time, he realized why you had seemed somewhat familiar to him.

You had been hiding from him in plain sight. You meant the world to him now, and maybe if he had taken the initiative to talk with you before, who knows how your lives would have been different. You could have been great friends right now, maybe more than friends.

He sent you a quick text, telling you that this was his number and when he would be free to chat. He soon sent another message telling you that his drink you made him was amazing.

Once again, he smiled like an idiot as he stared at his phone, realizing you weren't going to be the one that got away. He wasted no time putting your number in his contacts.

Just ignore the heart next to your name.

----

Player 1/The Front Man, In-ho:

You had tried your best not to give up on your hopes of survival after the failed coup of the games. Your closest ally, your friend, died and you hadn't even been able to say goodbye. He was doing something so heroic just to be killed and disposed of unceremoniously.

You didn't give yourself time to grieve. Grief would only distract you. It didn't hit you until the night before what would be the last vote. You weren't sure what the outcome of the vote would be, but you were just so overwhelmed and sad and angry. So fucking angry.

Angry at the people who run the games, angry at the other players who have been keeping you here, angry at Gi-hun for even suggesting the attempted uprising, and angry at Young-il for going to play the hero and getting himself killed.

You finally broke down in the dead of night after a few hours of failing to fall asleep. Hyun-ju tried her best to comfort you to no avail.

In-ho watched from the control room. He felt his heart wrench hearing you sob. While the mask made him seem cold and collected, this affected him more than he wanted to admit. He hated that he had to do this to you. He had to leave you and it wasn't fair to you.

It wasn't fair to himself either. He finally made a strong, genuine connection with someone and his job had to ruin it. Neither of you deserved the cards you were dealt in this situation, but it didn't have to stay this way.

While you were getting back into your normal life, In-ho was thinking of a way to reintroduce himself to you. He had a few people doing surveillance on you. Nothing major, just trying to see what your routine was. The places you frequented, your schedule, things of the like.

He waited a bit less than a year to make a move. He needed to make sure your memory of him had faded slightly. This would never work if you recognized him as Young-il. Waiting was excruciating. He just wanted to talk to you. To hear your voice. To see you smile.

You hadn't been the same since the games. You felt like you were in a haze. You were only alive because of the deaths of hundreds of people. You lived, and Young-il didn't. There was a voice in the back of your mind that told you it should have been you instead. You hardly slept anymore. Nightmares plagued you any time you closed your eyes.

After a few months, you finally decided to seek out a therapist. It was hard to describe the situation to him, seeing as you couldn't explain much about the death game aspect. You simply told him that someone close to you died in a violent manner, and you had survivor's guilt.

He advised trying to reintegrate yourself into the world. Social interaction could help to pull yourself out of the depressive episode. Which is how you ended up becoming a regular customer at a cafe near your apartment. You didn't talk to anyone very often, but existing in the presence of others and having basic interactions with the staff was helpful to you.

You noticed someone who you had never seen before come in while the cafe was somewhat busy. He bore a striking resemblance to Young-il, but you brushed it off as his image haunting your mind.

He was dressed up like he was straight out of a business meeting, dark hair slicked back. You tried not to stare, and while he didn't make it obvious, he did notice. You eventually tore your eyes away from him, focusing on the book you were reading.

You hadn't noticed him coming toward you until he spoke. “Is this seat taken?” He asked, hand resting on the chair across from yours. You looked up at him, and he could have sworn he felt his heart skip a beat.

You were a bit confused. The cafe was busy, but there were certainly other places available. You shook your head while returning to your book.

He took a sip of his drink before speaking again. “How do you like it?” He asked. You looked up at him, eyebrows drawn together in confusion. He chuckled, realizing his vague question. “The book, I mean.”

“Oh, it's really good. One of my favorites, actually.” You said. He already knew the answer to his question. One of the nights when you were bordering on a panic attack, he asked you questions about it to distract you. You rambled for a while, and he was entranced by your passion. After the games ended, the first thing he did was find a copy of it.

“What's it about?” He asked. You started talking in a rather closed-off manner, as if you were trying to distance yourself from him. You found it hard to get close to anyone since Young-il. But the more you spoke, the more he saw the old you peeking through.

You both spoke for over an hour, first about the book and then about other things. You both talked about where you were from, what you did for work, and the like. although you were both withholding some of the truth

You didn't even notice time passing by until you saw one of the workers starting to sweep the floor. You had talked until the cafe was about to close. You laughed awkwardly at that fact. “We should probably go. I don't want to hold them up.”

You said your goodbyes and parted ways. It wasn't until you got home that you noticed the slip of paper in your bag. It was a phone number with a small note: We should do this again sometime. - In-ho

Your eyes widened slightly in surprise, but then you just smiled. Your cheeks hurt at the motion, and you realized how much you had been smiling that evening. Your fear of getting close to people was forgotten at that moment.

You typed out a single message: Hey, it's Y/N. Same time next week?

----

Player 246, Gyeong-seok:

You were trying to get back into the swing of things after being put through the horrible games. You had tried to close yourself off from the other players. After seeing the brutality of Red Light Green Light, you didn't want to get attached to anyone. You just wanted to get out of there.

But Gyeong-seok managed to break down the walls you had made. Your number was right after his, so you stood next to each other on the X side of the room. You noticed him glancing over at him but you didn't react.

He struck up a conversation with you afterward while eating dinner. You tried to ignore him, but he was stubborn. You eventually relented, and you both talked for a bit. It was all fine until he told you about his daughter at home, Na-yeon, and how she was sick.

You sympathized with him, and it scared you. You had no intentions of betraying him. Quite the opposite, actually. You were afraid of being attached because it would make the inevitable hurt even worse. A death game was no place to make friends. But that's exactly what you did. Maybe even more than friends.

When he decided to help Gi-hun and the others during the raid, you felt an intense feeling of dread, and the blood in your veins ran cold. You were already grieving him, silently lamenting for the daughter whose father would never return. That was until he came stumbling into the room with a gunshot wound.

You tried to treat the wound the best you could, but the lack of supplies and the incessant trembling of your hands hindered you. Luckily, your makeshift bandage wouldn't see too much use, as the Xs had a majority in the next vote.

Before anything else happened, he pulled you aside. “Hey, thanks for everything. I couldn't have asked for a better friend here.” He said.

You tried to ignore the fluttery feeling in your stomach after his praise. “Thank you, too. I think you kept me sane.” You said softly with a slight chuckle.

He smiled before pulling you into a hug. You tensed up slightly, the movement catching you off guard at first. You hesitantly reciprocated his embrace. “I hope we get to see each other again.” He said.

“In better circumstances, I hope.” You quipped, earning a chuckle from him.

And you would see him again. It was about a month or so later, but fate moved you toward each other. It started with a light tug on your jacket while you were shopping in a department store. You looked down to see a little girl, barely tall enough to reach your waist.

Before you could speak, the girl did. “I can't find my dad. Can you help me?” She definitely was a bit shaken up and nervous to talk to you.

Your eyes softened when they met hers. You crouched down to talk to her on her level. “Of course I can. My name is Y/N. What's yours?” You asked her.

You smiled. “That's a pretty name.” You said, causing her to become bashful. “Hey, I have an idea. I can carry you on my shoulders so you can see over the clothing racks. Is that okay with you?” You offered. It would let her be able to see more of the store. She nodded.

That seemed to calm her nerves a bit. “Na-yeon.” She said softly. Her name didn't immediately trigger your memory since it was a fairly popular name.

She giggled when you picked her up. You grabbed her hands to help keep her stable. You intended to find your way to the cashier so they could make an announcement over the speakers.

You didn't make it that far before she called out to someone. “Na-yeon, what did I say about running-” His words caught in his throat when you turned toward him. It was Gyeong-seok

You smiled as you put the girl back on the ground. She moved to wrap her arms around his legs, and he put his hand on her shoulder. “Fancy seeing you here.” He said with a grin.

She looked back at you. “How do you know my dad?” She asked you.

You locked eyes with him, hesitating on how to explain it. “They're a friend from work.” He offered. You agreed. It was better to lie than try to explain anything further. “What do you say, Na-yeon?” He asked, prompting her to use her manners. The girl let go of her father, saying a word of thanks with a bow.

You smiled. “It was no trouble. She was very brave.” You said, causing her to beam with pride.

While he was talking to his daughter, you pulled out your phone. You started to make a new contact. When he was done talking, you passed your phone to him. He smiled when he realized what you were doing. He put his number in.

“It was nice meeting you, Na-yeon. Don't be strangers, okay?” You said. You said goodbye and made your way to the checkout. As much as you would have loved to stay and chat, you had a pressing matter to attend to.

The girl heard the ring tone. “Is that Y/N?” She asked.

As the two were getting into their car, he received a text message. It was nice seeing you both. Glad to see that Na-yeon is doing well.

He chuckled as he was buckling her seat belt. “Yes, it is.” He confirmed.

“They were nice. When can we see them again?” She asked, very eagerly.

He smiled. “Soon, kiddo.” He said. Before he started driving, he answered you. I'm glad to see you too. Na-yeon is already asking to see you again. Do you want to grab lunch with us sometime?

You smiled at your phone, answering almost immediately. How could I say no?

[herofics]

No Longer Mine

A/N: So, basically this is about Gojo’s s/o “dying” and he eventually moves on with his life and then it turns out his s/o wasn’t dead after all. It’s basically all angst tbh. There's probably gonna be more parts to this eventually but idk...

He wasn’t there. He wasn’t there when you needed him most, and now you were gone. You were burnt beyond recognition. If he didn’t know it was your body on the floor, he wouldn’t have even known there had been a human there once. There were still traces of your cursed energy around, even if they were faint. You must have tried to resist whoever had done this. Of course you would have, you wouldn’t have gone down without a fight. He made Shoko check the DNA results a dozen times, but it was always the same result. It had been your body that was found in the house you shared with him. You were gone, and so was your shared home. Burned to the ground by god knows who, with you inside it.

Gojo didn’t really accept you being gone for a long time. He was so numb, and your death almost killed him. All those lonely nights with just him and a bottle of strong liquor, talking to you. Talking to an empty room, while downing so much liquor that it would have put a normal person in the hospital. He talked about how angry he was, angry towards himself for not having caught whoever had taken you from him, angry at you for leaving him, angry at the world for all of it. One night, you started talking back to him. You told him how it wasn’t his fault and that you loved him. That’s when he knew he was in trouble. The dead don’t speak, they don’t converse with anyone, that’s not how the world works.

That was about a year after you died. He stopped drinking and your ghost started fading away. Your voice got more distant and the image of you got muddier. He didn’t want to lose you again. He didn’t want to forget, but somehow remembering was worse. Even though it was muddy, he could still see your smile. Oh, how he loved that smile.

Eventually, he found someone new. He fell in love again, but you never left him completely. The memories he shared with you were still dear to him, even if they were painful. He visited your grave every year on the anniversary of your death. He left flowers on your grave and while he wasn’t a religious man, he prayed that wherever you were, you had found peace.

Four years later, you reappeared. You were found unconscious on some side street in Tokyo and taken to the hospital. After you woke up, the first call you made was to Gojo.

“Hi, I’m sorry I missed dinner last night. I’m in the hospital, but I don’t know what happened”

“Whoever you are, this isn’t funny” a cold voice answered back.

“What do you mean Toru? It’s me, it’s (Name)”

“Don’t call this number again” Gojo said and hung up.

You were confused to say the least. You’d missed dinner, sure, but there was no way he would act that coldly towards you just because of that. Then you noticed the date on your hospital band. It was four years more than it should’ve been. That must have been a mistake, right? You started to panic, your heart rate was getting erratic and you were having trouble breathing. A nurse came in, trying to calm you down.

“What’s the date today? Please, what is it?” you asked frantically.

“It’s 17th of August 2016”

“2016?!” you gasped.

Who could be so cruel as to make a call like that to him? Sure, he had made many enemies in his life, but most of them were dead and wouldn’t be the type to pull such an egregious prank on him anyway. It couldn’t be you, it couldn’t possibly be you. He had confirmed your death himself. More importantly, Shoko had confirmed it, multiple times. It had been your cursed energy, your DNA. There was no doubt about it.

“Who was that?” his fiancée asked as he had put down the phone.

“Just a wrong number” Gojo muttered.

“You seem a bit rattled, are you sure you’re okay?” she asked, placing a hand on his shoulder.

“Yeah, yeah, it was nothing” Gojo said, brushing off his fiancée.

The call kept bothering him. Gojo couldn’t sleep that night and just laid in bed, awake, while his lover laid beside him, sleeping like a log. The thought of you being alive kept him awake all night. Could it really be possible? Had Shoko been wrong? Had he been wrong? He couldn’t get that little voice out of his head. That little nagging voice in the back of his head, telling him he needed to go to that hospital, he needed to make sure. Early the next morning, he made his way to the hospital.

You had been given some sedatives, because of how badly you had panicked when you found out what year it was. You’d been gone for four years, and you didn’t remember a single thing about it. When you woke up, you were groggy, and you weren’t really feeling great. You were still in shock about the missing four years.

“You were dead” a familiar voice said from the end of your bed.

“Toru?” you asked, blinking a bit to focus your vision better.

“You were dead” he repeated, but this time his voice wavered.

“What are you talking about?” you questioned.

“There was a body, in the rubble of our burned down house…”

“What…?” you whispered.

Gojo was still standing by the end of your bed. You were really there, clear as day. He was afraid that if he touched you, this would all turn out to be some kind of illusion. Still, he couldn’t help himself as he moved closer to you and reached his hand out to touch your cheek. He just couldn’t bring himself to do it. He was too afraid, so he just held his hand next to your face, scared that you would disappear at any moment.

“Toru?” you asked, tears welling up in your eyes. “What happened?”

“You died (Name)... or at least we thought you did. It’s been four years since then” Gojo wasn’t sure if he should tell you about his engagement, but he wanted to be honest with you, like you’d been with each other before. “I moved on. I had to, losing you almost killed me”

Gojo’s hand fell back to his side and he hung his head. He didn’t know what to say. He didn’t know what to do. He was just so confused.

It was heartbreaking to hear the pain in his voice, but you still felt angry. Even though you rationally knew it had been years for him, for you that missed dinner was yesterday. For you, he had found someone else overnight. Your love for him was just as strong as it had ever been, but he clearly didn’t feel the same anymore.

“I don’t have any memory of the past four years. Did you know that? To me, I last saw you yesterday, and now you’re saying you found someone else?”

“I-”

“You don’t need to explain. I get it, but I would have waited. I wouldn’t have given up on you” you said tearfully, looking away from him.

“I did look for you (Name). Your death almost killed me, Ava saved me after I hit rock bottom”

“That’s her name? Ava?” you asked, the sadness evident in your voice.

“Yes… we’re engaged"

"Oh”

It felt like someone punched you in the stomach. You felt sick, empty. He was engaged? The love of your life had moved on with someone else. He’d left you behind, a long time ago, apparently.

“I think you should leave” you sniffled, wiping the tears from your cheeks, trying to appear strong. Even though you felt everything but.

“I don’t-” Gojo started, but stopped himself. You probably didn’t want to know. “Of course, whatever you want” he sighed and turned to leave.

As Gojo left the room, he gave you one more glance. You looked broken, and he was certain it was his fault. Why hadn’t he kept looking? Why had he given up on you? No matter what anyone had told you, you would have kept going. You wouldn’t have given up until you found him. So why did he?

The second Gojo left the room and closed the door, you broke down. You were sobbing, burying your face into a pillow to stop anyone from hearing your cries. The person you loved since you were kids at Jujutsu High, the one you’d given your heart, soul and body to, had left you behind. You had nothing to go back to. You’d been robbed of four years of your life, and now it felt like your future was gone too. It all just felt like a massive lie, like someone was having fun at your expense. Your old life was gone.