#i mean if you look at most books that started off as fanfic

[bettystonewell]

What Happened Last Night? - Part 1

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Summary: After burning the Book of the Damned and escaping the Styne’s, you all have a night of harmless celebrations back at the bunker. At least, it was harmless until Charlie suggested a game of Never Have I Ever, and the rest of your night became a blur. Friends to Lovers 18+ only

Word Count: 3,300

Warnings: Language, Dubious Consent (implied drunk sex), SMUT in part two

Or read it on AO3 here

A/N: Hey 👋 This is my first time posting a fanfic on Tumblr. The names’s Beth (Aussie/Dean-girl/tired mum). I’ve been on AO3 (and Wattpad) for over a year now and thought it was about time I put my big girl pants on and join the community here because it looks fun (though the social media side of this scares my close-to-midlife-crisis-ass). So, yeah, newbie in terms of everything here - please be kind. If you recognise me from the other sites, please say hi 😊 This is a cross post - there are two chapters total. Let’s see how this goes!

in vino, veritas

in wine, there is truth

Five bodies sat around the mess room table that night, drinking their troubles away and eating their fill. 

You, Dean, Sam, Charlie, and Cas at the end, sitting on a wooden chair he’d brought in from the library to make more space for those of you who did eat.

"This won't work," you said to the other four, though it was technically directed at Charlie. Your tone was as condescending as you could make it under the influence of the alcohol you’d already consumed. 

Three beers and two sneaky sips of Charlie’s Harvey Wallbanger you’d taken while she wasn’t looking.

It was one less ounce of bounce in her step for your at-the-time more than tipsy gal pal and well deserved. Especially now she’d revealed her true intentions on why she’d encouraged you to partake in drinking in the first place.

In her overly enthusiastic state, she’d suggested a game to get “The Party Started.” A phrase she’d attempted to sing in vain as only you seemed to understand its reference. 

Though Sam might have had a clue. His mouth had turned up around the lip of his bottle he’d conveniently sipped during the rendition of the Black Eyed Pea's early noughties banger.

Dean was one hundred per cent clueless, of course. Nothing past the eighties was decent to him. Nothing except that one Taylor Swift song you’d caught him listening to when he thought no one was watching. 

He had sulked then and had been sulking on and off again since last night. Brooding over the fact he’d lost his one chance to remove the mark. Unbeknownst that Sam had not burnt the Book of the Damned like he, Charlie and Cas thought, but in a better mood thanks to the booze and pizza he’d brought home.

You knew better.

Both about his demeanour and what had really happened with the ancient text. 

You’d seen Sam swap it with a replacement and you’d promised him you’d keep your mouth shut. Something you were hating your past self for.

Past you was a fucking idiot.

A fucking idiot who was about to get drunk from a game of Never Have I Ever like Charlie had suggested, and at risk of spilling more than one can of beans if you didn’t think of something fast to stop it. 

Charlie, the conniving little… She knew way too much about you after the last time you’d had a few with her and the glint in her eyes that you’d seen when she suggested the damn game was enough for you to know that what she was planning was dangerous.

A drunk man’s words are a sober man’s thoughts. Or something like that.  

And she was almost there. 

“What do you mean, it won’t work?” she said with far too loud a pitch that made even Cas uncomfortable. 

Well, more uncomfortable than normal.

“Umm. The angel, for starters.” You directed your gaze at Cas, realising too late that you were going to give him a complex. “I think most of our everyday human experiences are going to be a never for him. And whatever he did in heaven will be the same for us. It’s unbalanced.”

“You’re thinking too much. He’ll get drunk. We’ll get drunk. That’s the point of the game,” Charlie said.

But her grin left her when a gruff, “I won’t,” interjected itself into the conversation. 

Hah. Won’t. It was as if you’d sucked the happiness out of Charlie and taken it all for yourself to then rub it back in her face. “See. Cas doesn’t want to play. And Sam and Dean clearly don’t want to play either.” They'd said nothing against the suggestion and nothing against you now.

“Actually, you don’t have enough liquor here to get me drunk,” Cas added.

Don’t have enough… “Seriously?” You looked at him again and he nodded. An apologetic look on his face.

Which brought a ‘challenge accepted’ one into Charlie’s.

Looking around the room for support from the guys, you noticed Sam hiding a silent chuckle behind the bottle in his hand. 

While Dean, who had been quiet since Charlie had burst out in song, locked eyes with yours. “Well, if there aren’t any more arguments from you, sweetheart, let’s play.”

And you thought Cas’ claim that there wasn’t enough booze for him was a surprise.

Fuck. Your head was pounding.

Your mouth was drier than a desert with a chalky sensation in your throat and lips that felt like they had cracked. 

Yup. Cracked alright. They stung as you splayed your tongue over them, attempting to nourish the skin with what little wetness you had left in your mouth. A fat lot of good that did, though.

They weren’t the only part of your body feeling uncomfortable. Pins and needles from where you’d slept funny on your arm tingled from your funny bone to your wrist.

‘Ow. Fuck.’ Well, that hurt.

You were hung without a doubt, and just all over feeling seedy.

At least you’d slept some of the alcohol off and were no longer drunk. You thought.

The strands of hair that had made their way into your mouth and the saliva you strung along with it as you pulled it out would say otherwise. Urgh. Gross.

Had you been drooling? No wonder your throat was dry.

You groaned and forced your eyes open. Yes, you had. There was a wet patch on the white pillowcase below you.

Odd. You didn’t own white sheets. 

You’d decorated your room in the bunker with as much colour as you could. What with the hunting life full of black, brown, denim and blood, you didn’t need any of that spreading into your personal space. 

Of course, white was colour(ish), but again, you didn’t own white sheets, and your room didn’t have a solid wall where you were facing. Curiouser and curiouser. Your door was supposed to be right there. 

You were at the correct end of the bed for it. A headboard behind you and a pillow underneath you, meaning you were lying on the right side. Yet all you saw was more bricks, a tall boy in some kind of brown and clothes that weren’t yours scattered on the surrounding floor. 

Amongst them, a pair of jeans - okay, they might be yours. But the flannel? One plaid with various browns and greens. The very same Dean had been wearing last night?

Fuck.

Dean’s clothes. Dean’s room.

This was Dean’s room? 

This was Dean’s room. 

Fuck, fuck, fuckity fuck. 

What were you doing here? The last thing you remember was… Fuck.

Those lips. Dean’s lips, plump and whiskey-tainted, had peppered kisses on you in more than one place. Over your mouth, your cheek and your neck. Lower... 

You’d learnt the spot at the base of your ear above your lower jaw was quite sensitive. Dean had learnt that, too. He’d also learnt a few other things if your tainted memory served you correctly, and you, the same about him.

The way his muscles contracted around his chest and back. Every little ridge, taut and firm, continued even down his arm and into his hands. Those talented fingers had a way of placing pressure in just the right places to make you blush. They’d found their way under your shirt and bra and…

Oh… Oh…

Had you slept with him and not remembered the main event? Was that possible with Dean? Your friend. The guy you’d wanted to be more than for the longest of time.

You've fallen for him the day you’d met. With that charming smile and those dazzling green eyes. 

And that was before you’d gotten to know him.

Now you knew the man behind the shit-eating grin. The playful, sometimes scary nerd (who refused to admit it) was loyal to those he cared about. A self-righteous martyr, who could be a bit of a dick sometimes and followed it too when the time was appropriate. 

Not that he’d done it so much lately. 

Except, maybe now.

You were screwed and without asking him, there weren’t too many ways to check if indeed you had been by him.

You turned your head slowly to find an empty bed next to you. 

Thank fuck. There was plenty of time to ask, but his bed was not the place.

You stretched your legs out, noting they felt normal. Stiff if anything, but not in a way you’d expect if you’d partaken in good sex.

Of course, that meant nothing. Maybe the rumours you’d heard about Dean were untrue?

Yeah right. 

You’d seen the satisfied faces from all of his past hook-ups as they fled his motel room the next morning. Possibly one in every state. He had brought none of them to the bunker though, meaning you were the first to sleep in his room. In his bed.

Go you... That was something to be proud of, not. 

You’d hightailed it out of his room after all that. Slinking off down the hall to your own to get changed out of the clothes you’d been wearing the night before. You hadn’t been wearing them when you’d woken up, of course. Oh, no. You’d been wearing one of his henleys, braless underneath, and your underwear surprisingly still on. 

While you’d think that would be a comfort for you, you knew that meant nothing. Though everything felt normal down there, so maybe it did. 

You weren’t sticky when you had a shower, but you noticed the love bites above your breasts when you looked in the bathroom mirror after it. There were bruises on your hips too. Ones shaped like fingerprints that fingers had pressed into you on either side. 

Hmm.

There was only one way to find out what had happened and once you’d primed and prepped yourself, wearing clothes that covered you from your neck to your toes, you made your way to the same room where everything had gone down the night before.

Stupid Charlie and her stupid fucking game. 

“Hey, Charlie,” you greeted when she saw you enter. Her eyebrows raised, along with her grin. “Where’s everyone else?” 

In other words - Where’s Dean?

Only Charlie sat at the table. The rest of the room was clear. There were no more pizza boxes, no more alcohol bottles and no one in the kitchenette. Not even someone’s head in the fridge. 

Just Charlie, with the smell of bacon and freshly ground coffee lingering in the air around her.

Coffee. You needed some of that.

“Sam’s got his head in the books again. Can you believe he was up before eight?”

Actually, you could and you hummed in response as you took your fresh cup of steaming goodness up to your lips to sip.

“I think Cas has left the building. We may have gotten him drunker than we thought.” She smirked. “And I figured you knew where Dean was.”

Your mouth spluttered over the rim of your cup. Coffee now dripped down your shirt and a few of the drops had landed on the floor. 

You flicked your eyes to your friend as you placed the cup on the table opposite her. Towels. You needed towels.

“Don’t give me that look. I saw you two after I left. And I checked on you this morning when I first got up. You weren’t in your room,” she said.

There was a knowing look on her face as you made your way between the pantry and back again that you ignored. Stooping down low to wipe the spill you’d made on the tiled floor below, only joining her once you’d discarded the paper towel in the bin along with your dignity.

Your hands went straight back to your cup, sipping on the rim and avoiding Charlie’s prying eyes.

“Come on. Let me live vicariously. What happened between you two?”

“I don’t know,” you whispered.

“You don’t know? I set this all up for you and him and you don’t know?”

“Ssshhh.” Your shoulders slouched, and you reached across the table to grab her arm. “I don’t remember, okay? I woke up in his bed but…”

“Did you two?” She made a crude gesture with her hands.

“I. Don’t. Know.” Your eyes were open wide as you enunciated every syllable to get your point across. 

“How do you not know?” Charlie blinked a couple of times. 

Drawing in a long breath, your mouth agape and ready to sigh it all out, you looked back at your friend and trembled your head in a quick shake. “I remember fooling around a bit but I don’t remember much more than that.”

“So you just woke up in his bed and don’t know how you got there?” she asked.

“I mean, I know how I got in his room, I remember that much, I think, but I don’t remember lying down or, you know.” The look you gave her was enough. You didn’t need to elaborate and even if you had wanted to, a heavy thud of boots echoed through the corridor outside.

Sure, it was possibly Sam, but that distinct gap between steps could only have been made by one bow-legged Winchester. And when Charlie’s face lit up opposite you and you heard the sound abruptly stop from somewhere near the door, you knew it to be true.

“Morning Dean,” she said. The chirpiness in her voice made you want to slap her silly but as you only had access to the hand that still held yours in the moment, you dug your fingernails into the skin below them instead. “Ow. You want some breakfast? There’s bacon still in the pan.”

Dean grunted and you felt eyes boring into the back of your head.

You refused to look behind you to where you knew he was pouring his own coffee by the sounds of it and released Charlie’s hand to pick up your cup. You took slow sips, keeping both your mouth and the rest of your body occupied while your elbows rested on the table, defending yourself from Charlie and her quips.

“How did you sleep?” she asked this time. Her eyes flicked between you both.

Could she be any more obvious?

“Fine,” he grumbled. “You got any more questions, or are you gonna leave us in peace to sort our own shit out?” 

Fuck.

You looked over at Charlie with a pleading look that said ‘Please don’t go.’ My how things had changed. But she grinned back at you and wagged her eyes, before standing and leaving the room in haste. Damn traitor.

As her footsteps trailed off down the hall, the room grew uncomfortably silent. Making your sips the loudest thing to have ever existed in the world. 

Your coffee was more bitter than it had been and you needed sugar pronto if you ever wanted to finish it.

You brought your cup down and placed it on the table before you to let your fingers fidget over the thin porcelain. Paying attention to each sharp angle between the curves and painted decorations. More so than was ever necessary.

Your eyes fixated on it, even as Dean took Charlie’s place across from you, watching you with caution. “So,” he cleared his throat. “How’d you sleep?”

Seriously? Taking Charlie’s line was how he wanted to start this. Well alrighty then. “Um. Fine, I guess. You?” You braved a glance at him, noting he was more serious in his disposition than usual.

“Like a log,” he said before silence filled the room again.

Right. You weren’t sure what you should say next. There was that big question on your mind, but you wanted, no, needed to approach it carefully. You didn’t want him to know you didn’t remember what if anything had happened between you. 

Not for his ego, but for yours.

You took another glance at him and saw his tongue run along the inside of his cheek, making it stick out under the five o’clock shadow he was yet to get rid of. He always looked his best like that. 

“I uh, I was surprised you weren’t there when I came back to my room just now.”

Wait. He was? “You were?” 

“Yeah.” There was a defensive twang in his tone. It was subtle, but it was there. “I only went to take a shower and then I found you’d bolted… I thought…” He shook his head.

He thought. Thought what?

You looked him up and down. It wasn’t just his tone that was unusual. The way he held his shoulders and the way he gripped his coffee cup before him was odd. In anyone else, you’d say they were lacking in confidence, but Dean wasn’t like this.  

The last time you’d seen him in such a way was after he’d killed Randy and the thugs in Pontiac and had come home dishevelled and broken over what he’d done.

“What did you think?” you asked, stretching your arm out to brush his hand across the table. Hoping that by doing so it might relieve whatever tension he was feeling.

There was a warmth there, that spread under your fingertips as your skin touched his and brought flashbacks to your mind of you touching other places on his body. 

You’d seen him with his shirt off last night. Been up close and personal with his tattoo and the scars that adorned his chest. You’d felt the dip in his spine and the pressure of his waistband pressing into your thumbs when you’d hooked them under the denim that sat around his waist.

Had you gotten into those jeans last night?

“Last night,” he said, watching your hand with interest. “After what we talked about.”

What we talked about? You’d stayed up well into the night with him. Long after Sam and Charlie had gone to bed and Cas had disappeared to do whatever Cas does. But just like your memories of what took place in his room were drawing blank, so too were whatever words you’d exchanged with him. 

All you could see were the grins and smirks he threw your way, and you nodded your head to stall. It didn’t do you any favours. 

He was looking at you with a scrutinising gaze and just as your cheeks had burned when he found that spot under your ear, they did the exact same to you now and gave everything away. “You. You don’t remember? Do you?”

You bit your lip and shook your head. “I ah. I’m drawing blanks. Some of it, I remember, but I couldn’t tell you what we talked about after the others left. And…” You hesitated.

“What?” His eyes locked onto yours and while they made you nervous, you couldn’t pull away. 

“Dean. Did we…” 

He seemed almost disappointed. But rather than wait for you to finish your question, or answer it even though it was as obvious as Charlie had been, he stood up, scraping the chair along the floor as he did so to storm off.

‘What the fuck just happened?’

You had drunk a lot and been drunk because of it. You’d spent time with Dean alone after the others had gone to bed and had talked with him about something. 

Something that led you to his room and into his bed. 

There’d been action. Kisses and touches. A bit of groping and clothes being removed. Small flashes of that continued to form in your mind. But while marks had been left on your skin and you’d stayed the night in his bed, you couldn’t remember the physical act of him being inside of you. Or you giving him a happy ending either for that matter. 

And now, he was disappointed.

Could it be that he felt the same way you did? 

————————————————————Thank you for reading! I’ll try posting part two same time next week - or you can read it now on AO3 here. In the meantime, I’ll be trying to work this site out (and finishing my WIPs whose updates are overdue… 🙃

[corvidarcana]

After Aurum is officially published, have you considered reuploading the original fic? Both for archival purposes, and also I'd love to see what concepts got changed and which stayed.

Hi! I will not be uploading the original fic— sorry!! Though it would definitely be fun for folks to compare, it would directly impact the book’s sales. Part of me does hate to lock it behind a paywall, but if sales are low because there’s a free version available, the story may not get as much public reach, and I do really want to see this project succeed!

[hollowed-theory-hall]

your post on harry’s handwriting was an eye-opener for me! ik his writing resembled his mother some and is decent overall, but i’ve never seen pics of it!

idk where the horde of fanfic writers came up with the weird notion that harry has bad/chicken scratch handwriting, which triggers me every. time. they make out his handwriting to be messy, his eating habits sloppy, his speech behaviour bumbling, his appearance unkempt, and that he’s rather messy as a person. which boggles the mind, because he’s used to cleaning up after the dursleys and probably enjoys an orderly space, if not super spic and span??? is it only certain fandoms, cuz they make the other character(s) all elegance personified and well-mannered? like, harry already is a well-mannered boy, otherwise petunia would’ve been tutting, clucking, and dying of shame even more before the nieghbours lmaoo. idk whether to cry or laugh, and sometimes it’s such a turn-off that i choose to rage quit fics.

please, if you have the time, i would love a thorough breakdown/meta on how harry actually comes across as a person!

Okay, I have so much to say about this. And omg, Harry's chicken scratch handwriting is one of my pet peeves in fics (here's the handwriting post, btw). Harry's characterization when done wrong in general, tbh is a huge turn-off for me. Becouse I love Harry, he's my boy.

So, what we're gonna look at is how other characters in the books perceive Harry, how he comes across in universe to people who can't read his mind (like we can, as the readers).

I'll start with a general note about how most characters in the books don't really know Harry. This is mostly because Harry, contrary to fanon interpretations, is a very private person and rarely talks about himself/his feelings/his thoughts out loud. This is a habit I believe was ingrained into him by the Dursleys.

Like, I mentioned in the past Harry doesn't talk as much as other characters. Scenes of the trio usually consist of mostly Ron and Hermione talking, for example. This is not becouse he doesn't have thoughts (he's quite judgmental inside his head, and we know he has a lot to say), but becouse he's used to not voicing a lot of them thanks to the Dursleys.

This essay turned out pretty long, but here we go:

How do others see Harry?

Harry comes off as confident. Harry is a defiant and courageous person, and this often comes off as confidence to other people. It's why Snape thinks Harry is arrogant and why most students are always sure Harry meant to do what he did. They think he has shit together because he comes off like he does:

Harry stayed silent. Snape was trying to provoke him into telling the truth. He wasn’t going to do it. Snape had no proof — yet. “How extraordinarily like your father you are, Potter,” Snape said suddenly, his eyes glinting. “He too was exceedingly arrogant. A small amount of talent on the Quidditch field made him think he was a cut above the rest of us too. Strutting around the place with his friends and admirers . . . The resemblance between you is uncanny.” “My dad didn’t strut,” said Harry, before he could stop himself. “And neither do I.”

(PoA, Ch14)

Snape sees Harry as arrogant, when in fact Harry is just defiant and intelligent.

“But you’ve been too busy saving the Wizarding world,” said Ginny, half laughing. “Well ... I can’t say I’m surprised. I knew this would happen in the end. I knew you wouldn’t be happy unless you were hunting Voldemort. Maybe that’s why I like you so much.”

(HBP, Ch30)

Ginny (and other characters) believe he likes to save the wizarding world. That he is this confident hero and savior. I mean, they believe her lie about the tattoo, which says a lot:

and all Romilda Vane does is ask me if it’s true you’ve got a hippogriff tattooed across your chest.” Ron and Hermione both roared with laughter. Harry ignored them. “What did you tell her?” “I told her it’s a Hungarian Horntail,” said Ginny, turning a page of the newspaper idly. “Much more macho.”

(HBP, Ch25)

Harry doesn't see himself as leader material, but it's clear everyone else does:

“I think we ought to elect a leader,” said Hermione. “Harry’s leader,” said Cho at once, looking at Hermione as though she were mad, and Harry’s stomach did yet another back flip. “Yes, but I think we ought to vote on it properly,” said Hermione, unperturbed. “It makes it formal and it gives him authority. So — everyone who thinks Harry ought to be our leader?” Everybody put up their hands, even Zacharias Smith, though he did it very halfheartedly. “Er — right, thanks,” said Harry, who could feel his face burning.

(OotP, Ch18)

Neville Longbottom, who gave a roar of delight, leapt down from the mantelpiece and yelled. “I knew you’d come! I knew it, Harry!”

(DH, Ch28)

“Look who it is! Didn’t I tell you?” As Harry emerged into the room beyond the passage, there were several screams and yells: “HARRY!” “It’s Potter, it’s POTTER!” “Ron!” “Hermione!” [...] “Are you all right, Harry?” Neville was saying. “Want to sit down? I expect you’re tired, aren’t—?” “No,” said Harry. He looked at Ron and Hermione, trying to tell them without words that Voldemort has just discovered the loss of one of the other Horcruxes. Time was running out fast: If Voldemort chose to visit Hogwarts next, they would miss their chance. “We need to get going,” he said, and their expression told him that they understood. “What are we going to do, then, Harry?” asked Seamus. “What’s the plan?” “Plan?” repeated Harry. He was exercising all his willpower to prevent himself succumbing again to Voldemort’s rage: His scar was still burning. “Well, there’s something we—Ron, Hermione, and I—need to do, and then we’ll get out of here.” Nobody was laughing or whooping anymore. Neville looked confused.

(DH, Ch29)

Everyone expected Harry in DH to have a plan of attack the moment he arrived because that's how he acts. Even in the above scene, he's in terrible pain from his scar, but the others don't see it. What they see is a Harry who looks exhausted but says no to rest because there's work to be done and they expect this of him. They see someone fearless and capable with a plan who could lead them, but this isn't what we see because we're inside his head.

How Harry doesn't speak much and acts overall quite distant, as in, he actively avoids the girls who fancy him:

Then he blinked and looked around: He was surrounded by mesmerized girls. “Hi, Harry!” said a familiar voice from behind him. “Neville!” said Harry in relief, turning to see a round-faced boy struggling toward him

(HBP, Ch7)

And he only has two close friends and barley knows the other students in his year. Most students only know Harry Potter from the stories, rumors, and Dumbledore's end-of-the-year speeches about his heroism. They have no clue who the real Harry is — so they expect the hero they do hear about.

He stands his ground a lot (again, defiance):

Harry turned to McLaggen to tell him that, most unfortunately, Ron had beaten him, only to find McLaggen’s red face inches from his own. He stepped back hastily. “His sister didn’t really try,” said McLaggen menacingly. There was a vein pulsing in his temple like the one Harry had often admired in Uncle Vernon’s. “She gave him an easy save.” “Rubbish,” said Harry coldly. “That was the one he nearly missed.”

(HBP, Ch11)

And more often than not, he does so coldly and calmly. A lot of his more fiery anger is a sign of trauma with Harry, his baseline anger reaction is cold.

All of this adds to him appearing to others as controlled, confident, and like he has everything together and could never have any issues. He comes off as this bigger than life person to most people. Snape isn't the only one who reads Harry's behavior as confident. But it's actually far from the truth.

We, as the readers, see how depressed Harry is. How lowly he thinks of himself and how much he doesn't think of himself as anything special when he very clearly is. But the fact he doesn't say any of it and has mastered the skill of acting cold and like everything is fine when he literally wants to die at the age of 5, no one knows. Even Ron and Hermione didn't truly realize the full extent of Harry's low self-worth until 5th year.

The other students are shocked to see Harry as angry as he is in book 5 because he's often way more controlled and well-mannered than that. They're used to seeing him cold and quiet, not firey. Most of his fire stays inside his head unless he's really angry or emotional in general (or traumatized):

Professor Umbridge sat down behind her desk again. Harry, however, stood up. Everyone was staring at him; Seamus looked half-scared, half-fascinated. “Harry, no!” Hermione whispered in a warning voice, tugging at his sleeve, but Harry jerked his arm out of her reach. “So, according to you, Cedric Diggory dropped dead of his own accord, did he?” Harry asked, his voice shaking. There was a collective intake of breath from the class, for none of them, apart from Ron and Hermione, had ever heard Harry talk about what had happened on the night that Cedric had died. They stared avidly from Harry to Professor Umbridge

(OotP, Ch12)

The shock of the other students, I believe, is because of what he's saying, yes, but it's also because Harry is behaving very unlike him here. He usually doesn't shout at teachers or anyone, really. He rarely speaks in classes actually.

And regarding his confidence, everyone, Ron and Hermione included, was sure Harry is super skilled and that that's how he evaded Voldemort:

“You don’t know what it’s like! You — neither of you — you’ve never had to face him, have you? You think it’s just memorizing a bunch of spells and throwing them at him, like you’re in class or something? The whole time you know there’s nothing between you and dying except your own — your own brain or guts or whatever — like you can think straight when you know you’re about a second from being murdered, or tortured, or watching your friends die — they’ve never taught us that in their classes, what it’s like to deal with things like that — and you two sit there acting like I’m a clever little boy to be standing here, alive, like Diggory was stupid, like he messed up — you just don’t get it, that could just as easily have been me, it would have been if Voldemort hadn’t needed me —” “We weren’t saying anything like that, mate,” said Ron, looking aghast. “We weren’t having a go at Diggory, we didn’t — you’ve got the wrong end of the —” He looked helplessly at Hermione, whose face was stricken.

(OotP, Ch15)

They didn't for a second think he wasn't confident in his own abilities because Harry acts in a way that comes off as confident and capable. It's why everyone so easily accepts him as a leader under various circumstances. He acts level-headed while he's terrified, so everyone thinks he knows what he's doing except Harry (and the reader). Ron and Hermione had zero doubts Harry's skill was a big part of why he survived book 4, it's only Harry who doesn't think that.

The fact Snape bothered to extract his own memories during his Occlumancy lessons goes to show how he thinks Harry is talented, contrary to his words. He feared Harry would reverse the connection and see into his mind, otherwise he wouldn't have taken these precautions.

Think of Voldemort’s resurrection even. Inside his mind, we know Harry's terrified. We know he has no idea what he's doing.

But imagine being a Death Eater in the crowd and you see this 14-year-old kid stand up after being Crucio-ed by their lord, and he stands up, resists the imperius, and shouts at your lord like he thinks of himself as equal to him — or, perhaps, better than him:

“I asked you whether you want me to do that again,” said Voldemort softly. “Answer me! Imperio!” [...] I WON’T!” And these words burst from Harry’s mouth; they echoed through the graveyard, and the dream state was lifted as suddenly as though cold water had been thrown over him — back rushed the aches that the Cruciatus Curse had left all over his body — back rushed the realization of where he was, and what he was facing. . . . “You won’t?” said Voldemort quietly, and the Death Eaters were not laughing now.

(GoF, Ch34)

That's pretty badass. Harry comes off like a confidant badass. And he gets more badass and confident as he matures (even if he isn't actually as confident as he appears).

Even in the DoM, Lucius Malfoy, who was in the graveyard, takes Harry seriously:

“Don’t do anything,” he [Harry] muttered. “Not yet —” The woman who had mimicked him let out a raucous scream of laughter. “You hear him? You hear him? Giving instructions to the other children as though he thinks of fighting us!” “Oh, you don’t know Potter as I do, Bellatrix,” said Malfoy softly. “He has a great weakness for heroics; the Dark Lord understands this about him. Now give me the prophecy, Potter.”

(OotP, Ch35)

Bellatrix makes fun of how Harry gives the other kids orders as if they're going to fight, but Lucius knows better, he knows Harry is going to fight, and I think, he's scared of what would happen when he does. Even Bellatrix quickly starts taking Harry more seriously:

“Oh, he knows how to play, little bitty baby Potter,” she said, her mad eyes staring through the slits in her hood. “Very well, then —”

(OotP, Ch35)

And she changes her tone completely after he casts a Crucio at her:

“Never used an Unforgivable Curse before, have you, boy?” she yelled. She had abandoned her baby voice now.

(OotP, Ch36)

His aura is one of competence and confidence even when he's frightened and has no idea what he's doing. Especially when he's frightened and has no idea what he's doing.

And for the most part, he doesn't come off nearly as judgmental as he actually is, because he doesn't say a lot of what he thinks. We only see him start to actually speak his mind and be more sassy out loud around 5th and 6th year. And even then, his highly judgmental physical descriptions stay part of his narration, they aren't spoken:

“That’s the bell,” said Harry listlessly, because Ron and Hermione were bickering too loudly to hear it. They did not stop arguing all the way down to Snape’s dungeon, which gave Harry plenty of time to reflect that between Neville and Ron he would be lucky ever to have two minutes’ conversation with Cho that he could look back on without wanting to leave the country.

(OotP, Ch12)

Ron and Hermione banter while Harry feels done with them, but he doesn't really say anything or complain. He keeps a lot of his thoughts inside his head.

If we look at how Ron, Hermione, and Sirius see Harry, they're the closest to who Harry actually is as these three know Harry best. (They're also more objective than Harry who looks down on himself)

After the book 5 conversation I mentioned above, Ron and Hermione are more aware of Harry's insecurities, but they find them silly. They see Harry as incredibly capable and skilled:

“Did he?” said Harry. Behind him he felt rather than heard Hermione passing his message to the others and he sought to keep talking, to distract the Death Eaters.

(OotP, Ch35)

“What are we going to do with them?” Ron whispered to Harry through the dark; then, even more quietly, “Kill them? They’d kill us. They had a good go just now.” Hermione shuddered and took a step backward. Harry shook his head. “We just need to wipe their memories,” said Harry.

(DH, Ch9)

When danger comes, everyone's instantly following Harry's lead. Harry's the planner when the situation is dangerous, he calls the shots, not Hermione. Hermione and Ron look to Harry for a plan when things get tough, and Harry always figures something out. Now, we see Harry thinking he has no idea what to do:

He could not think what to do but to keep talking. Neville’s arm was pressed against his, and he could feel him shaking. He could feel one of the other’s quickened breath on the back of his head. He was hoping they were all thinking hard about ways to get out of this, because his mind was blank.

(OotP, Ch35)

But Ron and Hermione don't. No one does. They just see Harry coming up with a plan to save them. Every time. They don't see him wracking his brain for a way to keep everyone alive.

Hermione never considers Harry stupid, not even in first year:

“I’m not as good as you,” said Harry, very embarrassed, as she let go of him. “Me!” said Hermione. “Books! And cleverness! There are more important things — friendship and bravery and — oh Harry — be careful!”

(PS, Ch16)

And Ron clearly doesn't expect stupid behavior from Harry. He's surprised and shocked when Harry does something he considers stupid:

“What the hell,” panted Ron, holding up the Horcrux, which swung backward and forward on its shortened chain in some parody of hypnosis, “didn’t you take this thing off before you dived?”

(DH, 19)

Both Ron and Hermione trust Harry's opinion and they trust him to know what to do when shit hits the fan. When things are dangerous, both Ron and Hermione (and everyone else) turn to Harry to know what to do becouse that's the aura he has:

“I’d tell him we’re all with him in spirit,” said Lupin, then hesitated slightly. “And I’d tell him to follow his instincts, which are good and nearly always right.” Harry looked at Hermione, whose eyes were full of tears. “Nearly always right,” she repeated.

(DH, Ch22)

Hermione agrees with Lupin's assessment here. Dumbledore did too, he's the one who told Kingsley and Remus to trust Harry's instincts. Harry doesn't give the impression he's messy and bumbling, quite the opposite. Yes, Harry and Hermione have their doubts, they don't agree with Harry on everything, especially when he has no evidence for his claim except his intuition. But, it's telling Harry can make claims based on gut feeling and Ron and Hermione ask him why he thinks that instead of just instantly rejecting the claims.

Like I mentioned above, he looks like he has his shit together even when he really doesn't. He's an expert in keeping a mask on and bottling up his feelings.

Sirius, also sees Harry as mature and capable for his age. It's why he's so insistent on telling him things while Molly wants to cuddle Harry:

“I don’t intend to tell him more than he needs to know, Molly,” said Sirius. “But as he was the one who saw Voldemort come back” (again, there was a collective shudder around the table at the name), “he has more right than most to —” “He’s not a member of the Order of the Phoenix!” said Mrs. Weasley. “He’s only fifteen and —” “— and he’s dealt with as much as most in the Order,” said Sirius, “and more than some —” “No one’s denying what he’s done!” said Mrs. Weasley, her voice rising, her fists trembling on the arms of her chair. “But he’s still—” “He’s not a child!” said Sirius impatiently.

(OotP, Ch5)

Between them, Sirius sees Harry more accurately. Harry is incredibly mature and capable and wants to be in the know. He'd be better off in the know. Sirius understands Harry's curiosity which Molly seems unaware of. Lupin also remarks on how Harry is going to find out things anyway, he's aware of how curious and determined Harry is. Sirius considers Harry capable even during PoA and GoF:

I know better than anyone that you can look after yourself and while you’re around Dumbledore and Moody I don’t think anyone will be able to hurt you.

(GoF, Ch18)

Molly, on the other hand, never really sees Harry's capabilities. Molly only ever sees a polite, intelligent kid. In the early years at the Weasley, Harry barely talks to Molly and Arthur because he doesn't really know how to talk to them. So they talk to him, the other Weasleys talk around him, and he's polite in turn:

“I don’t blame you, dear,” she assured Harry, tipping eight or nine sausages onto his plate. “Arthur and I have been worried about you, too. Just last night we were saying we’d come and get you ourselves if you hadn’t written back to Ron by Friday. But really” (she was now adding three fried eggs to his plate), “flying an illegal car halfway across the country — anyone could have seen you —”

(CoS, Ch3)

Harry acts around most adults like this, especially when younger. It's clear he acted this way around his teachers too:

“You see what you expect to see, Severus,” said Dumbledore, without raising his eyes from a copy of Transfiguration Today. “Other teachers report that the boy is modest, likable, and reasonably talented. Personally, I find him an engaging child.”

(DH, Ch33)

Snape got it a bit different. Because Harry is defiant and sassy — it's how he responds to the Dursleys, and this is how he responds to threats he can't do anything about in general. Sass. It's why we see Harry do this with Umbridge, Snape, and Scrimgeour:

Who do you imagine wants to attack children like yourselves?” inquired Professor Umbridge in a horribly honeyed voice. “Hmm, let’s think . . .” said Harry in a mock thoughtful voice, “maybe Lord Voldemort?”

(OotP, Ch12)

“Do you remember me telling you we are practicing nonverbal spells, Potter?” “Yes,” said Harry stiffly. “Yes, sir.” “There’s no need to call me ‘sir,’ Professor.”

(HBP, Ch9)

“...You may wear that scar like a crown, Potter, but it is not up to a seventeen-year-old boy to tell me how to do my job! It’s time you learned some respect!” “It’s time you earned it.” said Harry.

(DH, Ch7)

Harry appears confidant and arrogant not only to Snape but to Scrimgeour too (I think other students at Hogwarts see Harry as arrogant too. His demeanor can come off as arrogant if you don't know what he's thinking. It's why they could believe the Daily Prophet, it fit what they got to see). It's because he is rude and sassy when speaking his mind. It's because he acts more confident when he's terrified. It's because he's cold, distant, and uncaring towards most people and actively avoids talking to most.

And even that's mostly when he's older. In 4th year, he responds to Snape by glaring at him silently and wishing he could cast a Crucio at him:

Harry sat there staring at Snape as the lesson began, picturing horrific things happening to him. . . . If only he knew how to do the Cruciatus Curse . . . he’d have Snape flat on his back like that spider, jerking and twitching. . . .

(GoF, Ch18)

Harry is overall really quiet, which does create the impression of him being put together. More than he thinks of himself, for sure. It also adds to why many students feel as comfortable talking about him as they do because he feels distant to them. His quiet makes him feel mysterious, unknown, and far away. Like a symbol rather than a person.

Something I want to note, specifically with Umbridge, is this scene:

Harry looked around at Umbridge. She was watching him, her wide, toadlike mouth stretched in a smile. “Yes?” “Nothing,” said Harry quietly. He looked back at the parchment, placed the quill upon it once more, wrote I must not tell lies, and felt the searing pain on the back of his hand for a second time; once again the words had been cut into his skin, once again they healed over seconds later.

(OotP, Ch13)

Part of why Harry comes off as such a put-together badass is that he doesn't let others see his pain. He doesn't show he's in pain to others, especially when it's people he doesn't like. He acts though, constantly.

He hates crying in front of others becouse Harry does everything he can to not appear weak:

Harry suddenly realized that there were tears on his face mingling with the sweat. He bent his face as low as possible, wiping them off on his robes, pretending to do up his shoelace, so that Lupin wouldn’t see.

(PoA, Ch12)

And it works, people see him as confident, and capable, and heroic. Most people don't see the struggle because Harry keeps bottling it in.

Even with Hermione, he tries not to let her see how upset he actually is. We know in his head, that he is devastated by his wand breaking, that he's mourning it like it was a dead loved one, but this is what he's willing to show Hermione:

“It was an accident,” said Harry mechanically. He felt empty, stunned. “We’ll—we’ll find a way to repair it.” [...] “Well,” he said, in a falsely matter-of-fact voice, “well, I’ll just borrow yours for now, then. While I keep watch.”

(DH, Ch17)

All this means, we, as the readers , see Harry's pain, his struggles, his vulnerability — but the other characters almost never do.

The only character who is consistently aware of Harry's struggles is Sirius who Harry confides his weaknesses to more than any other character:

“Never mind me, how are you?” said Sirius seriously. “I’m —” For a second, Harry tried to say “fine” — but he couldn’t do it. Before he could stop himself, he was talking more than he’d talked in days

(GoF, Ch19)

Harry is so used to saying his fine and bearing his burdens in silence. It's what he does. It's what he did for years. Most characters think Harry is unshakable because that's how he acts.

Even when Harry tries to lie so Sirius won't worry, Sirius sees through it:

Nice try, Harry. I’m back in the country and well hidden. I want you to keep me posted on everything that’s going on at Hogwarts.

(GoF, Ch15)

As for his room and appearance, he is a little messy actually when he has the chance to be in seventh year:

Harry had spent the morning completely emptying his school trunk for the first time since he had packed it six years ago. At the start of the intervening school years, he had merely skimmed off the topmost three quarters of the contents and replaced or updated them, leaving a layer of general debris at the bottom—old quills, desiccated beetle eyes, single socks that no longer fit.

(DH, Ch2)

As in, his trunk is a bit of a mess. But this makes sense, I think. He allows himself to be messy when he doesn't have the Dursleys over his head. It's like a sort of freedom he didn't have before, so he indulges in it. I think the mess in his trunk is also a result of him actually living from it for 6 years, as he couldn't really leave everything at home with the Dursleys, could he? Still, his room and belongings are nowhere near as messy as Ron's.

As for his appearance, the only thing mentioned to be messy is his hair:

His jet-black hair, however, was just as it always had been — stubbornly untidy, whatever he did to it

(PoA, Ch1)

But from other characters (including Hermione) thinking Harry's hot:

“Oh, come on, Harry,” said Hermione, suddenly impatient. “It’s not Quidditch that’s popular, it’s you! You’ve never been more interesting, and frankly, you’ve never been more fanciable.”

(HBP, Ch11)

We can conclude Harry's messy hair comes off as cool and attractive and not like a bird's nest.

We also see from Hermione and others that Harry looks scary. He is 5'11 by book 6 with an intimidating glare and that he looks like he can throw a punch, (and can definitely throw a punch when he wants to). So he has a physical intimidation factor when older:

“Well, it’s like Hagrid said, they can look after themselves,” said Hermione impatiently, “and I suppose a teacher like Grubbly-Plank wouldn’t usually show them to us before N.E.W.T. level, but, well, they are very interesting, aren’t they? The way some people can see them and some can’t! I wish I could.” “Do you?” Harry asked her quietly. She looked horrorstruck. “Oh Harry — I’m sorry — no, of course I don’t — that was a really stupid thing to say —”

(OotP, Ch21)

Harry was not aware of releasing George, all he knew was that a second later both of them were sprinting at Malfoy. He had completely forgotten the fact that all the teachers were watching: All he wanted to do was cause Malfoy as much pain as possible. With no time to draw out his wand, he merely drew back the fist clutching the Snitch and sank it as hard as he could into Malfoy’s stomach — “Harry! HARRY! GEORGE! NO!” He could hear girls’ voices screaming, Malfoy yelling, George swearing, a whistle blowing, and the bellowing of the crowd around him, but he did not care, not until somebody in the vicinity yelled “IMPEDIMENTA!” and only when he was knocked over backward by the force of the spell did he abandon the attempt to punch every inch of Malfoy he could reach. . . .

(OotP, Ch19)

To summarise

Harry bottles up a lot of his emotions and tends to be quiet, this creates the often wrong impression he is confident and has his shit together.

He doesn't show pain and weakness to others and doesn't cry or show he's upset to basically anyone (except Sirius). This means basically no one sees his struggles or how depressed and traumatized Harry actually is. It even surprises Ron and Hermione in book 5.

He is defiant and rude to people he doesn't like, especially when scared, the result is that he appears like a very capable and confident badass especially when under pressure.

He can be intimidating with his glare alone and once he's older he is a physical presence. He's not someone who can disappear in a crowd post-book 5.

His rudeness oftentimes stays in his head except when someone really annoys him. This makes him appear defiant, but overall polite because he keeps most of his mean comments to himself.

When younger, he is very polite and quiet, especially toward adults. When he's older, he gets a little sassier (as in, he says some of his internal monologue out loud). But he is a polite, well-mannered kid for the most part.

The character who has a messy room, is a bit of a slob, has chicken scratch handwriting, and is lazy with schoolwork, is Ronald Weasley, who I love dearly, but these descriptions have nothing to do with Harry and everything to do with Ron.

The only unkempt thing about Harry's appearance is likely his Potter hair, which is more messy hot than messy bad (if all the girls' reactions are anything to go by).

[astrologysaysno]

I saw an Omegaverse fanfic, thought of SVSSS and thought, why not mix them both.

So I offer to the masses the idea of a Second Gender-less Shang Qinghua.

I have a vision that pre PIDW, he had written a lot of books before that, some of which I can imagine are Omegaverse fics

So why not have the PIDW world collide with the Omegaverse and just give everyone secondary genders.

Not Shang Qinghua though, he's special like that.

I imagine that for his formative years, he freaked out constantly regarding the day he presents his second gender. He was really hoping to be an Alpha or a Beta to spare himself the travesty and possible karmic retribution of throwing away his original plans for PIDW by experiencing heat as an omega.

As the years go by, and every teen in his village starts presenting, it just never arrives.

Everyone is clueless. They initially think he's just a late bloomer, then after half a decade of when he was supposed to present, he's still not showing any signs, people just slap the Beta label on him and call it a day.

Going with the flow and not causing a scene, he goes through the Cang Qiong entrance exam, and he gets in.

Most of the people of the sect are immediately off put by him.

For a starter, he is completely alienated to all things scent.

He doesn't give off a smell that any secondary gender has. It's like the equivalent of the taste of water, no flavour, just the scent of his nervous sweats and whatever he accidentally spilled himself with that day.

His stuff gets confused for unused supplies constantly, which is a real hassle, getting his mattress from storage whenever a newbie finds his bed and thinks it's an extra that was never used.

He doesn't seem to recognize scent either. Senior disciples have tried using their scent to drive off Qinghua like they do all juniors, but it doesn't work since he can't smell their haze of intimidation, forcing him to learn tells of behaviors through visual observation alone.

This causes him to become incapable of the process of scenting, unable to smell or be smelt. All attempts for his peers to give him a piece of their scent, it is ultimately washed off like dirt under the pressure washer.

In this scenario, it's the reason why he has never been caught as a spy for Mobei-jun. The King of the Northern Desert has tried to mark him with his scent to declare his ownership, but it fades by the end of the day at most. This frustrates Mobei-jun as he can't seem to get Shang Qinghua to make him his in this manner.

The other big thing is that he has none of the instincts that having a secondary gender would give him, a key one would be on the realm of romance.

My belief is that because of his biology, he was chosen to be head disciple.

The An Ding Peak Lord was going through performance reviews, found Shang Qinghua with no record on any sexually aligned misdemeanors, gets his work done faster, and thinks, "Let's make this boy my disciple."

Again, condolences to Mobei-jun, but I need him to remember that words exist cause his beloved is incapable of being courted by normal means, he needs to be told that you like him romantically or all attempts will go out the door.

I think about how in this AU, Shang Qinghua probably thinks he's a complete outsider that puts everyone off because he can't connect to them in the same way, but the rest of the Peak Lords look at him like:

"Hello, here is our socially inept sibling who we can't do normal ABO things with, but he's incredibly good at organising stuff, so there's that, I guess."

[milchig-de]

Caught

Pairing: Lighter x Reader

Summary: You just want to chill and jerk off but Lighter catches you in the act. What will he do?

Warnings: It's sex guys what can i say. Read at your own discretion, 18+ etc. Reader has a dick but is kept gender neutral (do tell if i missed something)

Notes: I am sooo normal about him. Super, completely normal. Not freaking out about him or anything. Nuh uh. No way.... I say, writing smut fanfic abt him shsjhdks

i feel like i wrote him a bit ooc, but im excusing it with the fact we don't interact with him that much shsks

Part 2 btw

"Ugh."

You plop down on your bed while letting out a very unceremonious groan. It was another hard day of working with the Sons of Calydon. After almost losing the cargo you were transporting and getting chewed out by Lucy (followed up by Caesar telling her to chill, which then ended in another battle, pulling you in as a judge and in the end bringing more of Lucy's wrath upon you because of course she lost) you want to do nothing more than just relax and have a restful sleep.

With the utmost willpower you can muster up, you get up to change into some clean clothes, do your usual before bed routine and slip under your covers. Happily, you cuddled yourself deeper into the comfort of your sheets. Only...

Sleep doesn't come to you. At all.

Looking at the clock, you realize it's still fairly early. So naturally, your mind is still running at top speeds even though your body craves some respite.

So what can you do to either pass some time or make yourself sleepier?

Well, some good options include making yourself some warm milk or counting sheep, reading a book, the usual options one would go for.

But all of those options sound incredibly tedious. Not only would you have to get up and leave the comfort of your bed for some of them, they all just sound so... unappealing. Plus you've tried counting sheep and the like before, you know it doesn't work for shit.

So, you choose the worn and proven method of: Masturbating. It weakens your mind so it can easily fall prey to sleep- you have some tissues on your night table as well. Hopefully, cleaning yourself up afterwards won't cause you to lose the sleepiness.

You push the covers off of you. It would be even more tedious if you accidentally smear pre on them, which would mean having to change the sheets and wash them.

Since you're not hard yet, you start gently palming your dick through your pants. You try imagining something arousing that'll do the trick, remembering some porn you watched recently or just general sexy stuff. But... even though you try not to think of anyone specific, only one person comes to mind. The undefeated champion and your one and only long-time crush, Lighter Lorenz. Well, not that he knows that he's your crush, you've just figured he's probably not interested in you. It's not like you're proper partner material.

Shaking your head, you try to get rid of your thoughts regarding Lighter. It's bad enough you can't stop thinking about him during the day, you don't want to also imagine him in the most vulnerable state. But it just seems impossible. The bad boy act he puts on captivates you, even more so when his nicer side shines through when he's flustered, not to mention his devilishly handsome face and his fat ass that keep circling around in your head until all your thoughts surround only him again. You wish you could just rail him into tomorrow until he forgets his own fucking name, slamming your cock into his hole and passionately sucking on his tongue- yeah you're beyond saving.

Groaning at your unsuccessful attempts of getting aroused by something other than who is basically your co worker, you rethink. Is it really so bad to desire him like this? After all, any thoughts like wanting him naked and the like won't ever come to his attention; it's not like he can read your mind. As long as you can manage to act normal towards him, it shouldn't be a problem to jerk off to your thoughts about him... Surely.

So you decide to just go with the flow. You pull your pants down to half of your thigh. Your dick springs up, throbbing eagerly at the thought of getting some much needed stimulation.

You lick your hand and then spit on it to have some lubrication, before you enclose your shaft in your fist, imagining it was Lighter doing this to you. A sense of relief washes over you and instinctively, you moan out Lighter's name, upon which you immediately slam your other hand over your mouth because you know the walls are not particularly soundproof. Technically, the others should be out but... there's still plenty of other people hanging about where they shouldn't be.

Keeping your hand clasped around your mouth, you start moving your fist up and down your cock again. Squeezing the top, you can't help but shudder blissfully at the pleasure coursing through you- until your door is suddenly thrown open.

"Hey, did you call for me-"

Your wide eyes make contact with Lighter's equally wide eyes through his sunglasses. For a moment, neither of you move or say anything, you with one hand around your dick and the other on your mouth, while Lighter stands at your door, still holding the door open.

Then you quickly scramble to pull your pants back up and Lighter quickly closes the door behind him, presumable to shield your dignity from even more humiliation.

Your face burns as you try to adjust to a position where your still raging boner isn't too obvious. Regardless of the obvious circumstances (and your very obvious embarrassment), you try to play it cool.

"So uhm, did you need anything from me? I'm too tired to do anything else today so you can also just tell me tomorrow... "

Clearing his throat, Lighter also tries to resume with his usual act of being aloof and uncaring, but his red face is a dead giveaway.

"I was walking past and heard my name so I thought you called for me... I really didn't expect to find you like this though."

No fucking way he heard you moan his name. Holy shit. You need to leave the Outer Ring, change your identity immediately. There's no way you can live with him knowing what you truly think of him. Just thinking about how awkward it would be- not to mention the chaos it would bring to the Sons of Calydon. As a gang, you need to work together like clockwork, there's no space for weird tensions. You could live with the shame, but you're not sure if he'd even want to hang around you anymore. Your mind runs at 100 miles an hour as you scramble to work some excuses up.

"Lighter, listen it's- it's not what you think-"

He raises an eyebrow at you. Yeah he clearly saw you jerking off- there's no way you're getting out of it. So you jump to plan B. You straighten up, trying to look as serious as you can, even with your still flushed face.

"Lighter, I'm... I'm sorry. I know you don't see me that way and that this is a super awkward situation. I know you're probably super grossed out at me, but I really hope this conflict won't affect the gang. I'm.."

You take a deep breath, trying to stay calm at your next words.

"I'm ready to leave the Sons of Calydon if I make you uncomfortable."

Lighter flinches at your words. You and him have shared a few of your struggles- so he knows this isn't an easy decision for you. After the gang picked you up when you were at your lowest, leaving it would mean leaving your only home behind. With nowhere to go, what would happen to you? The Outer Ring certainly isn't a place where it's easy to find one's footing. But more importantly...

" You've got nothing to apologize for. I'm not uncomfortable with... this situation, and uhm, you."

You stare at him, stunned. It'd be a lie to say you didn't half expect him to just start punching you.

He clears his throat and looks off to the side, a light blush covering his face.

"Actually, I'm very interested in what you were doing before I came in."

Huh?

"I-In fact, I want to know just what you were thinking about to get you to moan out my name... if you could tell me?"

HUH???

Not only is he not grossed out, it seems like he's enjoying this?? You can tell he has a smile on his face from the way his eyes seem to crinkle, even with his hand covering the lower half of his face. You sputter out a startled reply.

"W-well, I was imagining us making out and touching each other... I was thinking about you stroking my dick and- wait!"

You're sure you were as red as Old Daddy right now. Is this really okay? Is it really fine for you to just tell him your disgusting fantasies? Is he really... not upset? You squeeze your thigh before voicing your concerns.

"Are-are you sure you want to hear this? I mean, it's pretty gross for me to think these things about you and even more so to voice them so uh, I'm very sorry again"

A short silence engulfs you. Then, Lighter starts walking towards you. Squeezing your eyes shut, you brace yourself for the impact of his fist, but it never comes. Instead, you only feel him sit down at the end of your bed and gently put a hand on your leg. Composed as he seems, you still feel the slight tension in his hand. You cautiously open your eyes.

"If I had been uncomfortable, I would've made this clear by now. I definitely wouldn't stay around to hear someone being horny about me if I wasn't interested. And I also don't think you're gross. Actually I-, uhm"

He starts stammering and his face heats up again. He is pretty cute like this. You wish you could just snatch him up and kiss him so he wouldn't have to try speaking anymore.

"I think you're..."

He takes a moment to clear his throat, collecting himself.

"You're wonderful. You always care for me when I do end up getting into a fight. It... it helps me immensely in dealing with... the aftermath. To tell you the truth, I've also had significantly less nightmares because of you. And you're just... so pretty and handsome... It'd be hard not to like you."

Ah. You want to think he's lying- it's hard to accept anyone could ever think of you in a positive way. After all, you don't really have anything to offer. You're not funny or interesting to talk to, you don't have an important job in the gang and you most certainly aren't the most handsome person you can imagine. All in all, you're just an average joe!

But you know Lighter wouldn't lie to you- plus, all of these things are subjective judgments from you. Who's to say he doesn't see you differently?

Clenching your fist, you shuffle closer towards him, bringing your face near his. You reach up to take off his glasses, but hesitate. You know that they act as a sort of barrier against the world around him. Seeing your hesitation, Lighter gives you a short nod. So, you gently pull them off, your hands trembling. Gazing into his eyes, you reply.

"I... Well, you've probably already figured this out, but I also find you quite attractive. I mean, not only your body I just think you're so cute and I love the way you care for the other gang members..."

He gazes at you, with a love in his eyes that make you feel like you could burst at any moment. If there's anything you wish for, it's to keep this moment burned eternally in your memory. One of his hands comes up to cup your cheek.

"May I kiss you?"

You nod and he pulls you closer until your lips touch. Feeling his warmth on your lips is like a dream come true. There's a faint smell of oil and sweat coming off of him- it only makes you all the more hungrier for him.

Hesitantly, you decide to take the first step- since he has shown you that he truly desires you, it's time for you to step up to the plate.

You open your mouth and slide your tongue out to worm your way into his. He quickly lets you in, greeting your tongue with his own. They dance and wrestle with each other. You taste his spit and savour the taste, groaning into his mouth.

A string of spit connects you as you pull off with a wet sound. You gaze into each other's eyes as you pant, both utterly flushed.

Ligther regains his composure faster.

"Do you... think you could continue? With what you were doing before?"

You raise your eyebrows.

"You... want to watch me masturbate?"

"Yes."

"Well... I was going to do this anyway."

You return to your previous position under his heavy gaze. The way he drinks in every movement of yours leaves you utterly exposed- moreso when you start taking off your clothes. For the sake of him getting to see something, you undress completely.

Your dick already stands at attention again, having temporarily deflated during the serious talk with Lighter. Letting out an anticipating sigh, you grasp your cock again and squeeze it before starting up with the familiar up and down movement.

Moans fall from your mouth, partially influenced by Lighter's gaze on you. Glancing up at him, his flustered state encourages you.

You decide to put on a show for him. Sliding your fist up, you swipe your thumb across the head to collect the bead of precum, but then continue to tease the head and rub the spots which are the most sensitive. This naturally makes you let out more sounds, which seems to please Lighter, as he even sneaks a hand down to palm himself through his pants.

His watchful gaze leaves you feeling utterly exposed and incredibly aroused. Staring into his eyes, you can't help but imagine again that he's the one twisting his hand around your cock. Just the thought makes you unconsciously speed up, building up a feeling in your stomach that makes you curl your toes. Closing your eyes you let your head fall back, barely able to handle being watched.

After a few more strokes, you tilt your head down to look at him again. The sight is downright divine. He's panting almost as much as you, face flushed and still palming his dick. His elated expression brings you over the edge, ropes of cum shooting out onto you.

Seeing that you're finished, he stares at you, watching your chest rise from your heaving breaths.

Something in him snaps and he rushes forward to hungrily connect your lips again, shoving his tongue in your mouth once more. With barely any time to react, you try your best to reciprocrate, eventually managing to sneak a hand down to grope his ass. Lighter lets out a moan, his tongue still in your mouth. You use this opportunity to suck on it. His eyes flit to yours in surprise before they roll up at the wave of pleasure you managed to solicit by groping his very visible bulge.

But it's not enough friction, not enough of your touch for him, so Lighter separates from you and starts stripping. Although he only does it with the main goal of getting his clothes off, you can't help but be entranced by his body. His muscles flex and stretch while he undresses, a few scars decorating his body. It's obvious he fights for a living, but in the most positive sense.

You're so distracted with gawking at him that you don't even notice Lighter has finished undressing. So he decides to take the lead instead. Grasping your hand that's still covered in cum, he licks it off all while maintaining eye contact. You moan out at his actions, your dick twitching to life again at the erotic sight.

Encouraged, you immediately move to pleasure him after he lets go of your hand, but Lighter instead grabs the back of your neck and pulls you into a kiss.

His lips are somewhat chapped, you can smell motor oil and sweat on him. It feels so good to have his warmth against your lips, to move in tandem with him. It only gets better when he opens his mouth and licks at yours. You follow suit, letting him explore your mouth with his tongue. You can still taste your cum on it. The sensations of it make you groan into his mouth, eliciting a shudder from him.

But still you decide to focus on the more important thing: Lighter's cock. You gently push him back. Understanding your intentions, he moves back and adjusts to sit comfortably.

Grabbing his dick in your hand causes him to let out a hiss of relief. Seems like he has really needed this as well. Massaging it gently, you spit into your other hand for some much needed lubrication. Then you start stroking it, earning yourself a few moans from him. It doesn't take too long before he starts panting in earnest, hot puffs of breath leaving his mouth intertwined with occasional groans.

"Mmh... Very good...Ngh- I like that..."

You swipe at his tip when you reach it a few times, before deciding to duck down and kiss it.

"Ah! Y-you don't need to use your mouth for- ahhnnnngh...."

You had opened your mouth and taken his tip into your mouth. You swirled your tongue around his tip, playing with his slit. Lighter can't help but let out a series of moans and whimpers, sounding like an angel sent straight from heaven. All the while, you of course haven't stopped stroking the rest of it with your hand. You consider just deep throating him, but you're not really feeling up to the task. So instead, you focus on the tip and even swallow around it. This earns you a well-deserved whimper. To test the waters, you carefully graze his dick with your teeth. He bucks his hips up at that, accidentally thrusting his dick further into your throat, causing you to pull off of him out of reflex.

"Ah shit, sorry I didn't mean to- NGHHF" He starts reaching for you, but before he can do anything, you're back on track already.

You speed up your hand. This combined with you sucking him works him up faster than expected, his moans growing louder and louder until you notice he's trying really hard to hold back from thrusting into your mouth again. Instead, he grips the back of your head to have something he can hang onto. His head falls back, his eyes closed. It doesn't take much longer before you can feel his thighs tense beside you and suddenly he's filling your mouth with your cum. Diligent as ever, you swallow everything he gives you.

When you think he's done, you pull his cock out of your mouth. But it turns out he still had some cum left and he shoots one more rope of cum onto your face.

His dick softens in your grip, but that's only until he tilts his head forward again and catches a glance of your face- like magic, his dick is hard and throbbing again, the sight of your cum-covered face working wonders for him.

He pulls you up towards him, swiping his cum off your face with his thumb before forcing it in your mouth. You eagerly lick his thumb clean of his cum, playfully nibbling on it lightly. Lighter lets out a moan, pulls his thumb out of your mouth and smashes his lips against yours again.

While he's busying himself with your lips, you carefully adjust your position so he's laying down while you're on top of him. Since both of you are still hard, you figure he might want to go again- and you definitely aren't wrong.

So you line up your cock with his and grind into him. He moans into your mouth at the unexoected pleasure. You start out gentle with your grinding, making sure to use the leftover cum on both of your dicks as lubricant.

Meanwhile, you sneak a hand up to his chest, grasping one of his tits and kneading it. He gasps out at your actions, already overwhelmed by the pleasure. It only gets worse when you busy yourself with his nipples, giving them the occasional flick.

At this point both of your dicks are sufficiently lubricated, so you remove your hand from his chest after cupping his tit one last time and move it down to embrace your dicks together. You form a sort of hole around them, keeping them touching each other constantly. Then you start thrusting into the hole, all while rubbing up against Lighter's dick.

Both of you moan out in pleasure. You originally meant to start slowly and speed up over time, but when you look down at Lighter's expression, you just can't help yourself anymore. Seeing his eyes half-lidded and his tongue hanging out just the tiniest bit makes something within you snap, urging your hips to thrust faster and harder.

Lighter notices this, his eyes widening. However he actually enjoys you going rougher on him, so he lifts his arms and embraces you, pulling you closer to him. You oblige, touching his chest with yours.

"Yes, that's good, ah, keep going, hmpf!"

Feeling his warmth makes the knot in your stomach build up faster and faster. You groan into his shoulder, biting into it to let out your emotions somehow. He calls your name at that. It's obvious he's getting close as well, since his hips have also started thrusting against yours, not to mention his moans.

Retracting yourself from his neck, you instead plunge towards his lips again. Sliding your tongues against each other, the feeling builds up more and more until you come with a squeal, spilling ropes of hot, sticky cum against your stomachs, with Lighter following suit.

Once both of you have spilled every last drop, only your panting can be heard in the room. For a moment you gaze into each other's eyes. You were scared that Lighter would be disgusted by you now that he's used you to get off. But it's quite the contrary. His eyes shine with nothing but his love for you, it almost takes your breath away.

You let out a laugh and collapse on top of him. Cleaning up can wait until later, you decide, sneaking your arms under his torso in a somewhat awkward hug.

He chuckles as well, wrapping his arms around you. Gently, he kisses the side of your head. You think you hear him whisper an "I love you", but your exhaustion catches up with you before you can think about it any further and you fall into a deep slumber.

[slayfics]

Explosive tendencies a slow burn fanfic about the readers developing relationship with Katsuki Bakugo.

Chapter one: You stalk Katsuki’s social media page.

Chapter links

Your phone lit up with a notification buzzing on your desk. You pick up your phone to see a notification from Instagram and see that Izuku has followed you. You curiously look at his page and see that it has an overwhelming amount of All Might photos, then click over to see who else he is following and quickly realize he has followed everyone from the class.

You had just recently started your first year at U.A. and still hadn't interacted too much with your other classmates. So curiosity got the best of you as you scrolled through Izuku's following list to look at some of your classmate's pages to get a better understanding of them.

You glanced at many of your classmates pages. Mina's page was super pink and most photos were either selfies or her or her out with friends. She seemed to have an easy time making friends and getting along with others. She was probably the classmate you had the most interactions with. Purely because she would come up to you as if she had already known you her whole life. Much like she did to everyone else.

Shoto's page was empty expect for one picture of soba.

Eijiro's page had only two photos. One of the pro hero Crimson Riot and another was a selfie with his bright red hair. You couldn't help but wonder if some of your classmates deleted their old photo's to start over fresh at U.A.

Kyoka had a bunch of pictures of concerts and band albums with a few pictures of herself in between.

Tenya had a bunch of picture's of books he read and recommended.

Continuing to scroll through Izuku's following list you stopped when coming across Katsuki's page.

You clicked on his page and scrolled through the few pictures he had. Your cheeks flushed ever so slightly looking at one of the selfies he had posted.

You weren't sure why but something about him had caught your attention. Ever since being in the same group as him in the U.A. entrance exam, you had found yourself curious about him. All of your other classmates seemed to be put off by his constant angry demeanor, but something about his tenacity made you want to know more about him.

You pulled your knees into your chest as you stared at your phone. Your phone was unlocked sitting idly on Katsuki's Instagram page. The bright screen illuminated your dimmed room.

You twirled your hair absentmindedly as you debated following him. Just do it, don't be a coward you told yourself. You swiftly picked up your phone and clicked follow then locked and dropped your phone down back on your desk.

To your surprise, your phone buzzed again shortly after, you quickly looked and felt your heart flutter. He had liked one of your pictures. Not just a picture, but a picture of yourself you posted a few days ago.

Your face flushed as you held your phone in your hand. Suddenly, your phone dinged with another notification making you jump.

He had followed back.

You gripped your phone in your hand harder as you scrolled over to direct message him and stared at the page feeling your cheeks get even warmer. Come on just say something, you tried to hype yourself up.

He liked your picture and followed you back so obviously that means something right? Fuck it just do it you said to yourself and typed out a message.

"Hey I never got a chance to ask what happened after we split up?"

You typed and sent swiftly before you lost your nerve. During a training for your class at USJ some villains had broken in and attacked the class. You were split up with Bakugo and Kirishima for a short time before the two boys decided to go after more of the villains while you went back to the exit with the rest of the class.

You set your phone down not expecting an answer any time soon but you were surprised to see three dots appear almost immediately. Your heart dropped at the next message.

"What’s your address? I’ll Come over and tell you all about it."

What?! Were you reading that right?? You never expected that response. Your hands started to shake a bit.

It was late and surely the others in the house wouldn’t approve of having him over at this time. Fuck- you knew you were supposed to be on your best behavior since starting U.A. but… how were you supposed to say no.

"You ok with sneaking in?"

"Yeah just hurry up and send your address."

Before putting any more thought into it you typed out your address and pressed send.

Oh crap- You looked around your room and noticed all the stuffed animals on your bed. You quickly shoved them all in the closet along with some loose clothes that were around your room.

It wasn't long before you heard a loud explosion from outside and your phone dinged again with a notification.

"Which window is yours?"

You opened your window and saw Katsuki standing outside, within a split second of spotting you he had used his quirk to be at your window seal. You backed up as he jumped into your room.

"Uh- Hi," You greeted him trying to sound confident but it was evident in your voice you were nervous.

Katsuki sat on your bed leaning back against the wall.

"So you want to know what happened?" He asked, his face adorned with his usual smirk.

"Yeah," you said, as you sat down in the chair at your desk facing Katsuki.

"We found the other villains and I took down that warp gate villain, which slowed the rest of them down."

"Wow really?!" You said, amazed. You knew All Might had shown up and taken over so you didn't expect to hear that Katsuki had played that much of a part in the fight.

"Fucking Deku got in my way though!" Katsuki yelled.

"Hey are you alright?" You heard someone else in the house call from outside the room as they approached your door.

"Shit!" You grabbed Katsuki by his shirt and shoved him into your closet. Just in time for them to knock on your door.

You opened your door, "Yeah sorry it was just the TV- didn't realize it was gonna be that loud." You lied.

"Oh- ok-," they said, slightly suspicious since your TV was off but having no other evidence decided to drop the subject. "Well goodnight don't stay up too late," they said as they started to walk away.

"I won't don't worry! Goodnight," you called back, shutting your door quickly.

You opened your closet door and a few of your stuffed animals fell out.

Katsuki had one of them in his hand, "This is a cute little guy," He said with a smug smirk on his face.

"Shut up," you said, reaching trying to grab the stuffed bear from him, but he quickly avoided your grasp.

"Did you hide these in the closet because I was coming over?" He asked, eyes analyzing you.

"I don't know what you're talking about," You said, stubbornly crossing your arms.

"I bet they were all on your bed, weren't they? Tell me the truth or the bear gets it," He said, sparks flying from his fingertips.

"Quite down! You're gonna get me in trouble!" You pleaded.

"Better hurry up and tell me then," he said, a smirk growing.

"Ok- Fine, yes! I moved them off my bed because you were coming over. Happy?" You said, giving in to his taunts. You tried to grab for the bear again but he moved the bear away from you once more.

"One more question, is this the first time you've had a boy in your room?" He asked. You felt your face instantly light up with a blush, and you averted your gaze looking at his feet.

"Hm- I'll take that as a yes," He laughed and handed out the bear for you to grab. You grabbed it from his hand, your fingers grazing across his when you did.

"Alright well I'll see you tomorrow, wouldn't want to get you in trouble, you're not supposed to stay up too late," He teased as he made his way back over to your window.

You turned around wanting to call out to him but didn't know what to say. As quickly as he came in, he left you alone in your room once more.

Thank you for reading! I’m very excited to share this series~

Tags: @unofficialmuilover

[lillchris]

You with the dark curls; You with the water colored eyes (Two Shot)

Chapter One: A Sour Apple Can Spoil The Whole Bunch

Responding to @my-favorite-sign-blog Word Count: 1.7k

a/n: The book title is inspo from the song "Dear Arkansas Daughter" Anyway seeing that this is my first fanfic in a while, I thought it was no better time to start than the present. Most of the plotlines in this book will be ideas from my delusional brain. In this fanfic, Jalen and Paige actually dated so just keep that in the back of your minds ;) I hope you all like this first chapter! <3 TW: Angst, Jalen Suggs, Mentions of cheating and divorce, Swearing, Homophobia

It was Christmas morning in the Fudd household, and with that came Christmas breakfast, it was a tradition the family had yet to break.

It was precisely 8:30am when Azzi looked at the alarm clock beside her bed, and heard the sound of her father's voice ring down the hall as he banged pots and pans that woke up all those who were sleeping.

"Come on everybody up! Rise and shine it's Christmas morning and you know what that means!"

Tim Fudd's morning enthusiasm was not reciprocated as Azzi rolled back over, and pulled the comforter back over her head, in hopes of blocking out the loud ruckus outside her room.

"I'll rise but I sure won't shine." Azzi mumbled groggily.

Just then the door burst open, and she soon felt a dip in the mattress as she groaned from the sudden disturbance.

"AZZI! AZZI! AZZI! Wake up! Come on get up!" The sound of Drew Bueckers voice blared in her ear as she rolled over once again.

"Wow I guess that didn't work, maybe you should try since your besties." Drew shrugged before getting off the bed and walking out of the room.

"Come on you big head, get up. It's rude not to greet your best friend after it took three-plus hours to get here." Paige said in a teasing tone as she attempted to pull the comforter off of Azzi.

"Just five more minutes Paige, pleaseee. You know I'm not a morning person."

"Okay fine, but I'm sitting on the edge of your bed waiting here until you decide to get off your ass and wake up." Paige teased as she picked up a mini basketball that was lying on the floor.

The constant sound of the ball hitting the door and bouncing back, over and over was enough to drive Azzi nuts, she sighed before pulling off the covers.

"When, and how did you even get here? I thought you were going back home to celebrate Christmas with your mom's side of the family in Montana?" Azzi asked sleepily as she rubbed her eyes.

"Well, it took me a minute to realize after I said goodbye to you at the airport a month ago, that I wanted to spend Christmas with you instead. So I bought tickets for the next flight out to Virginia, and viola here I am."

"Paige do you need me for anything else, me and Jose want to play Fortnite," Drew said with a sigh as he trudged back into the room with a PS5 controller in hand.

When Paige didn't respond, Drew took it as a sign, rolling his eyes before leaving once again.

"Come on Azzi I want some of your mom's famous maple apple pancakes fresh off the griddle before your brothers eat them all". Paige says with a long pleading, drawn-out sigh.

"Don't make me force you out of bed".

"Noo Paige Please. Just let me wake up naturally. Jose forced me to watch some stupid ass Christmas comedy movie, and I am so tired." Azzi says with her eyes closed still as an annoyed groan falls from her lips.

"You're getting up whether you like it or not, come on," Paige says mischievously as she swats at Azzi's knee lightly as an incentive.

"Alright guess I'm going to have to carry you out like the princess you are." Paige says before picking up Azzi and slumping her over her shoulder carrying her out.

" Think you might want to carry Azzi more gently, she is Sleeping Beauty." Tim Fudd laughs upon seeing his daughter carried out Fireman's lift-style.

"Well, she is a princess after all," Paige says with a smirk before carrying Azzi bridal style in her arms.

"Wait before you put her down," Jose says laughing, before taking a picture of a sleepy Azzi, as Tim and Katie just laugh.

"Alright, Paige wake up Azzi it's almost time to eat." Katie says with a smile as she sets the last of the pancake on a plate.

"Wakey, Wakey princess, it's time to wake up for real this time." Paige says with a smirk as she bops her best friend on the nose, as she puts Azzi down forcing her to stand up despite how groggy she is.

"I'm up, I'm up! " Azzi says yawning as she puts on one of Paige's hoodies that she's currently "borrowing"

"Hey, that's my hoodie! Haven't you had it for over six months now?" Paige says jokingly with an eyebrow raised and a smirk plastered on her face.

"Whatever Paige. I like it, it's so comfy and it smells like you. I've worn it for the past month since I missed you." Azzi says as she leans against Paige's shoulder, and everyone sits at the table.

"She has hardly taken it off since we picked her up at the airport a month ago." Katie states as she passes the syrup bottle.

"Yeah, she practically lives in it." Tim chimes in, as Drew and Jose give each other knowing looks, as they look across the table at the two girls, who seem utterly comfortable and relaxed in each other's presence.

"Oh? So you actually missed me?" Paige says teasingly to Azzi as she eats her scrambled eggs.

"Of course I missed you! Is that even a question!" Azzi says with her mouth half full of food as she half-jokingly rolls her eyes. She glances over at Paige, before nudging her in the side playfully.

In Azzi's mind, she wanted to say: of course I missed you I always miss you. But she refrained, something in her mind stopped her.

Just as everyone was finishing eating, the sound of the doorbell ringing shifted their attention.

"I'll get it" Tim said as he rose from the table, before heading to the door.

"Is Paige Bueckers here by chance?" A young man says as he stands on the snowy outside steps.

"And who are you?" Tim asks curiously.

"I'm Jalen Suggs, Paige's- friend. I would like to talk to her for a second.

"Oh, so you're- never mind, sure come in," Tim says clearing his throat, letting the young man inside.

"Paige, someone's here to see you."

"Here to see me? On Christmas? I don't know who could possibly want to see m-." Paige's words stopped just as quickly as they had been spoken. Her mouth suddenly goes dry, upon seeing him standing there.

"I need to talk to you, please." Jalen says with a insistent look as she approaches him, firmly grabbing his forearm, and leading him into the living room.

"What the hell are you doing here Jalen on all of the days Christmas! I thought I made myself clear-"

"You did, baby, but I-I want to apologize, for everything." Jalen pleads as Paige's blood almost boils upon hearing him call her baby.

Paige sighs, looking down and shaking her head, before glancing over at Drew who is watching them talk. He quickly snaps his head toward the TV acting like he isn't staring.

"Look, can we just- talk about this outside. The at least decent thing you can do is not have this conversation in front of my little brother." Paige sighs in frustration as she and Jalen walk out onto the small front porch.

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

Meanwhile, Azzi is helping her mom and dad clean up the kitchen.

"Whoa, what did that plate ever do to you?" Tim jokes as Katie shoots her husband a not the right-time look.

In Azzi's mind, the thought, the sight, the mention of that person, that man- Jalen Suggs, makes her blood boil to no avail. He was a dick, an asshole, hell, every insulting name in the damn book of insults, for what he put Paige through the last year and a half.

She despised him, how could he do that to Paige, Her Paige. She dismissed that thought quickly, as her mind trailed back to Jalen the more she thought about him the more her mind reeled and turned at just how much she disliked him.

"Azzi." The sound of someone's voice and the feeling of her mother's hand brought her back to reality, and it was only then did Azzi realize that she had been washing the same damn pan for over five minutes. She released the death grip she had on the pan before taking a deep breath.

"Azzi, are you alright?" Her mother's eyes met hers as she looked up from her feet.

"Yeah, I'm fine. its-just why the hell did he have to show up, right here, right now, on Christmas of all days- I just." Azzi sighed and threw her hands up in the air.

"I'm walking out there, I know it's not my place but I'm giving Jalen a piece of my mind."

Azzi says determined, walking out of the house before Katie can tell her not to.

"ooooh weeeh, man! Watch out! Here comes Azzi. That boy is gonna see some Fudd fury from her! That's my girl!" Tim says proudly as Katie shoots him another unamused look.

"One! You are not calling me baby, and two! Don't you dare bring my parent's divorce into this! I might have been only three but that does not make it irrelevant. " Paige says beyond angry.

Azzi stomped out onto the snowy driveway about to give Jalen a piece of her mind, but she stopped beside the two, seeing that she had come at a bad time.

"And don't bring Azzi into this either leave her out of this!" Paige says before realizing Azzi is standing right there.

"Oh I'm sorry did I hurt your "girlfriend's" feelings." Jalen shoots back.

"Don't talk to her like that don't you dare!" Azzi says stepping in front of Paige protectively.

"Oh does Paige need her best friend- or shall I say girlfriend to fight her battles for her? Is that why you broke up with me just so you could fuck your best friend instead?"

That was it Paige had officially snapped.

"I'm not the one who cheated, with my used-to-be friend Hayley Van Leith! And no that's not why I was going to break up with you! I broke up with you because you kept fucking continuously lying to me!" Paige says with venom in her voice.

"You need to leave now." Azzi says firmly as she once again steps between Paige.

"Yeah alright, whatever Paige, at least I tried apologizing. Yeah, you just have fun with your girlfriend here. She'll never be able to give you what I could." Jalen says mockingly.

Before leaving Azzi and Paige in the snowy driveway.

a/n: lmk what y’all think :)

[ghostieyanyan]

yandere ruggie bucchi!

pls

hehe~~ i love writing about yandere beasts~ hehe~ this is a little shorter than some of my fanfics but I hope you like the art for it! (I’m proud of it ^^)

~The Bite~

Yan!Ruggie x mc

Warnings: yandere, bite marks, biting, stalking, chasing, pin down, struggle

~~~~~

You always have to remember... you are human and magicless at that. You always have to stay aware of your surroundings. You always have to be careful with going out at night.

Of course you have grim, ace, and deuce. but they like to get themselves into trouble and sometimes you cant help them.

So tonight, you were walking home... alone. you didn't mean to, it was just you were helping Jack and Epel, then Dire Crowley needed help, and it just piled up for you. Before you knew it, when you finished, it was pitch dark outside. Only well lit lanterns here and there but still. It was dark enough for the long unnerving shadows to give you chills.

You took a breathe and started to head to the dorm... normally you'll have grim talking your ear off with food, or assignments, or the "just you wait, ill become the most powerful mage in all of twisted wonderland!!" speech.. but now you have to walk and just listen to your footsteps on the ground.

Beside it being cold, it was a lovely night. the sky was clear and you could see the stars and moon nicely. it definitely help ease your nerves.

Sadly that didn't last long..- you walked past some forest, right before your dorm, and you heard some rustling. you would have just thought it was just a small critter... if it didn't make a loud thud and have a gargling growl.

you felt your blood run cold and shivers down your spine. practically every fiber in your body told you to run! you were about to- but you then remember something that rook said a while back...

"Some animals, when they see something go by fast, their instincts tell them to chase it! even before they know what they're chasing~! isn't that fascinating~?"

In this moment, NO, its not fascinating!!!

so instead of doing a full sprint, you went for a speed walk? maybe whatever that thing is, it'll leave you alone?

Ohhh hahaha... your hopeful thinking. Ya, no. whatever that THING was, stopped whatever it was doing and you could practically feel it's eyes piercing right through you.

You could barely get another step in before you heard it rush towards you. your auto-pilot kicked in and you booked it home, you didn't even dare yourself to turn around and look behind you. you ran like you never ran before. your feet ached by how much pressure your putting on the ground. next time, Deuce and Jack invites you out for a jog. maybe you'll tag along next time... that is if you live.

you made it to your dorm and slammed the door behind you. your chest was practically about to pound out of your chest. it felt like you were gasping for air through a straw. you were sitting against the front door on the doormat. you had to give yourself a few minutes before you could do anything.

what were you gonna do..?

when you finally got enough air to calm your heart rate a bit. you peeked outside... all you saw were the lights of the lanterns by your dorm...

no one was there...

you quickly ran to find any unlock doors and windows and quickly lock them! you also grabbed the phone that Cater gave you and called Jack and Epel. it took a bit and they weren't happy to be woken up but after hearing your shaken voice and begged to come to the ramshackle dorm, their angry turned to concern.

they told you they're on the way and told you to sit tight.

so you waited.

what were your suppose to do as you wait..? you could recheck the windows and door? you could also get a weapon, too! ya!

you rushed to the kitchen to grab a pan, and checked all the doors and windows again. you even checked the upstairs windows. you were in a magical world, you are not gonna stop and think about logic on how anyone will get to the top floor!

Good thing you did check though... Well unfortunately, your bedroom window was wide open.

you felt the cold wind blow through the window, you held the pan close to you as you slowly stepped away from the window. but your back hit something.. it was definitely not a wall! this thing wrapped it's arms around you and pushed you down on the ground. you tried to fight this intruder off but it was met with your limps being pinned and your pan being thrown across the room.

you couldn't turn and look at this person but you knew they weren't human. their sharp nails dug into your wrist. their knees on the back of your thighs so you are unable to move.

This monster, lowered themselves to you and spoke.

"Shye he he...~ you're such good prey~"

he probably felt your body freeze in realization but he didn't give you a second to think about it as he took his chance and sink his teeth on the back of your neck.

you let out a painful scream until your voice eventually gave out and you've succumb to the pain. you felt light headed and your vision began to blur. your limps became cold from poor blood circulation.

but before you fell into unconsciousness you heard Ruggie whispers his parting words...

"see you next time, prefect~"

~~~

when you woke up, you were in your bed. you slowly sat up and felt the unpleasant feeling of blood rushing in your head. you noticed the sunlight shining through your room and that the window is now closed.

you thought to yourself. that was a horrible dream...

but if it WAS just a horrible dream..? why is Jack and Epel sleeping on the floor in your room..?

and why is your neck patched up....

~

~

Without text

~

[dorlilymylovesss]

I want to speak out on a topic that has been really bothering and stressing me out. For several months now, Me and my friends who don't even ship jegulus, but are just Regulus fans have been harassed by Jily shippers. And not just with hateful words, but with specific accusations of fascism.

I want to start by saying that fandoms are a place where people can express their creativity and interpret characters as they like. Fanfics, art, and shippings are forms of self-expression, and they don't have to conform to canon. It allows us to look at characters from different angles, develop alternative plots, and create something new. And I don't judge or hate people for their favorite characters and ships.

I'm a huge Regulus fan even before the Jegulus ship came along. Regulus Black is a character I have a deep interest in for many reasons. Despite his limited appearance in the Harry Potter books, his story and character leave room for a lot of interpretation and thought. And I don't like it when people describe him as a regular Death Eater.

First, Jily fans often argue their dislike by saying that their ship is canonical( of course this is true and no one denies it) and James would never date a death eater. However, it should be remembered that fan art and shippings are inherently activities for the self and the soul. Even if a couple doesn't conform to "official" canon and never even met, it doesn't diminish the right of fans to create their own stories and interpretations.

Second Jegulus shippers are called misogynists.

But they may simply see these characters as interesting dynamics that catch their attention or interesting tropes that can be created. Choosing this ship doesn't necessarily mean they are intentionally excluding female characters and being negative towards them. Yes there are people among jegulus shippers who dislike Lily and exclude her from the story, but they are a minority. Plenty of jegulus shippers love Lily and also ship jily.

The charge of misogyny implies a conscious and systematic disregard for women or female characters. However, in most cases, Jegulus shippers simply enjoy a particular story or interaction between two male characters. This does not preclude an interest in or respect for female characters. Many shippers actively create and support content featuring female characters in other contexts or ships.

There is always a diversity of interests and preferences in fan circles. Not everyone likes the same characters or couples, and that's fine. However, to infer misogyny just based on someone's preference for a certain male couple without considering the overall context of a person's interests is wrong and unfair. Plus, I've seen thousands of Jily fans who were blatantly homophobic towards the marlily and pandalily enjoyers, and called James her only love, and erase her identity, leaving only her relationship with James.

Third, why calling the death eaters fascists is wrong and insulting to the actual victims of the tragedy.

Fascism as a political ideology and movement had specific historical roots and consequences, including brutal repression, genocide, and war. Death Eaters are fictional characters created by transphobic Rowling for a work of fiction, and their actions and motivations are part of a fictional universe.

Using historical examples of real-life suffering and tragedies to compare to fictional characters is disrespectful to those affected by real-life events. Historical tragedies such as the Holocaust require special respect and careful handling. And many Jewish content makers have already spoken out about it.

The kind of hate I've encountered as a Regulus fan is something I wouldn't wish on anyone. That being said, I've always loved jily, but after the hate, stupid accusations I've cooled off to them. You can't treat living people like that because of fictional characters. A lot of people don't care about canon written by a creepy transphobic woman, can you imagine?

Instead of wasting time on conflict and hate I suggest you create content on your favorite ships and leave other people alone. You have no idea how your hating can affect a person.

Not all shippers have the intention to demean or exclude other characters. Many of us simply love a particular dynamic and choose to explore it in our writing. This should not be taken as a threat or insult to other fans.

I love jegulus and jily, but my fav ship is dorlily and it saddens me that fans of the same fandom hate each other so much.

Not all shippers have the intent to demean or exclude other characters. Many of us simply love a particular dynamic and choose to explore it in our writing. This should not be taken as a threat or insult to other fans.

Leave other people alone. If u can't create content for your favorite ship and only can hate others its your f..king problem, it's unhealthy and childish.

I'm deeply sorry for jegulus artists and writers who got hate here and even death treats. I hope you will continue creating something that makes you happy.

[alargehunkofdebris]

the necessary anguish of the Good Omens 2 finale

Ah ok. So after 4 years of waiting post Season One and ten cumulative years of bookish fannery, I watched bonified New Content of Good Omens. And when those credits rolled, I sat there, not in my expected state of pleasant satisfaction, but in a state of abject shock.

I actually don’t know if I’ve ever had such a reaction to a show before. Or, rather, that I could still have such a reaction. I’m thirty, for goodness sakes – I was planning on being thrilled and charmed and entertained, not having my hands shake so much that it was hard to type a text. I wasn’t planning on losing an entire night of sleep because my heart wouldn’t stop pounding really hard, Neil. This was not expected. I had an estate sale to run the next day – by God, I needed that sleep.

 Anyway. These are my thoughts on the season, and on this upswell of mourning/unhappiness at such a gut-wrenching ending. As always, this are my dumb opinions and nothing more; take with a grain of salt, etc. 

I have seen a lot of suffering on Tumblr today. Everyone is in pain, and it makes sense. I, too, am in pain. But I might be in the minority, because I thanked God/Mr. Gaiman when things turned to pure pain in the end. Because narratively, despite the anguish we all feel, this is how it needs to be. And I was getting real worried there for a second.

When we have a mini-series (ie, a show with a set number of seasons) it can’t act the same as a series without a set end. We’ve got three potential seasons; therefore, they logically should behave like a three-act play, or the three acts in the standard Western movie/book plot. This middle season is the middle act, the second act. While it definitely doesn’t work exactly the same way, and needs its own story arc to work as a season, it is still functionally the middle part of one overarching plot.

And what usually happens near the end of the second act? All Is Lost, and the Dark Night of the Soul.

We NEED this to happen. This is what makes a plot delicious. If we’d had this perfect, lovely, romantic season where the stakes aren’t raised one bit and everything is fixed at the end, we would want for nothing and the gorgeous tension that keeps us waiting and watching would be lost. We wouldn’t feel that drive to create fanfics and fanart, we wouldn’t have the need to speculate or dream, because most of the tension was eased, and you just can’t have that if you want a highly anticipated third season. We’d have nothing huge and concrete to look forward to.

In fact, I was getting really worried once the Ineffable Bureaucracy started happening on screen, because I could see (I thought) past that bend in the road toward the end. I could see how this season might conclude, with big happy confessions of love and hugs and handholding (that’s all I expected, because I only expected the same chaste level of affection with both angelic/demonic couples) and then…then it’d all be over. What more could there be? I mean, there certainly could be more, but THIS is the main thing people waited for. The Happy Confession. The hug. The handholding. Whatever we got. And in my mind, having it now, at the end of season two, just wasn’t adding up – it did not fit. It couldn’t. No, we can’t have this now. It doesn’t work.

I get this peculiar thing that happens when things start getting too “everything is great!” in a story. I get the “someone needs to die” instinct. Instead of pure happiness that things are going great, there’s this feeling of intense discomfort, because I feel the weight of the shoe that’s failing to drop. I need it to drop, or else it throws off my entire standard-Western-narrative-trained brain’s balance. In the build up to The Scene, when things seem to be going swimmingly and heading directly towards the happiest and syrupiest of endings, I had to pause and pace my living room and roll around on the floor to alleviate the sheer build up of stress. Things can’t go this well. They can’t. There hasn’t been enough bad things, this is too sweet, too much. Can’t handle it. This can’t just be pure wish-fulfillment at this point; Good Omens shouldn’t work that way, it never has. We’d be happy in the moment, but then it’ll ultimately be a let down. No more danger. Nothing keeping them apart. No more tension, no more story. It was all too easy.

And then, finally, that shoe dropped. After a season of mainly getting along and being just thrilled with each other, they began to really argue. Things got horrific and serious, and I literally let out a breath of relief. I was able to watch without pausing every two minutes for a breather. Ok. Things weren’t over. This wasn’t the end. We had more to wait for.

And then it went on. The confession started, but in that gorgeously wrong way. And for the first time that season, I was actually feeling the stress of the story. Yes, there was danger throughout this season, but it was always layered with humour and wit. You didn’t get a demon scene without them doing something hilariously stupid. You didn’t get an angel scene without them being delightfully out-of-touch. The stakes were high, but they weren’t allowed to get EXTREMELY high. We never thought there was any question of them getting out of scrapes unscathed, because it was never all serious.

Never…until now. There was zero humour at this point. After 6 episodes of being pleasantly delighted, I was feeling the dread. However, I still thought I knew where it was going.  

See, I thought I had it figured out. If I had any extra money, I would have bet some of it. I knew that, whilst they’d likely have some kind of subtle confession of love and caring, and perhaps a touch – a hug, or a hand-hold (like Gabe and Beez) – I knew we couldn’t expect a kiss. This is a story thirty-three years in the making, and it’s always been in that grey area. They weren’t humans; they didn’t necessarily show affection that way. Besides that, we’ve had so many TV shows that get close, but rarely ones that go all the way to smoochville. OFMD was one of the very first, but it was new. It wasn’t an old, established story from the 90s like this is. It didn’t have decades-old fans waiting with bated breath for canon content. For Good Omens, we heard it time and time again in interviews; it’s a kind of love story. They had this kind of marriage. They cared for each other. They had a bromance. It’s close, but never quite there. So I thought I knew exactly how this would go, and would be thrilled with what we got. 

And then it absolutely didn’t go that way. It went exactly as far as so many hoped. And it went there like a knife to the gut.

And it was perfect.

Goddamn, what a season ending. Despite my lack of appetite and failure to sleep, I could not be happier with what Mr. Gaiman did. I am screaming crying throwing up and I’m thrilled about it.

The middle of a story is typically what drags; it never holds the highest stakes. Lord knows what we’re going to get in season three (knocking on wood), but I can only expect it to get bigger and heavier. And by God and/or Satan, am I prepared, in this deliciously painful purgatory, to wait and see.  

[mosquego359]

𖤐One Kiss and A Quidditch Match — Chapter 1: Destiny's Invitation𖤐

Prologue (recommended to read)

Pair: Cedric Diggory x Male Slytherin Reader

Word count: 3.1K words

Summary of the book: You and Cedric Diggory hate each other. It has always been this way. But everything changes one night when you kiss each other at a party. Now, it seems you can’t escape each other — from being partnered up in Herbology for an important project to having to help Cedric during the Triwizard Tournament.

Summary of the chapter: It's the first day. You and your four closest friends have Defence Against the Dark Arts first thing, but you meet the teacher even before class starts and he surprises you with information you didn't realised he had. After first period, you and your group get a surprise invitation to a party.

Notes: This is my first Cedric fanfic so please forgive me for any OOC moments. Please comment anything I should change to improve this. Also, this first chapter will mainly focus on your friends, but there is an interaction with Cedric. Additionally, I am not British so I am not 100% sure how to correctly write people from the UK.

Content warning: There are a couple curse words in this chapter, but they are not too frequent. I may also write a few sexual scenes in later chapters if people request it.

!PLEASE DO NOT REPOST ANYWHERE WITHOUT PERMISSION OR CREDITS TO ME!

...

“Just a few more days and I’ll be old enough to participate in the Triwizard Tournament. Fuck, (Name), I kinda pity you for being born in March,” one of your close friends, Alistair Campbell, ranted about his latest obsession, small pieces of chewed toast flying out of his mouth.

“Don't talk when you eat, Cambell,” another one of your friends, Elsie Wilson, gagged, removing her Slytherin cloak and draping it over the chair to your left. She sat down in an almost royal manner, carefully smoothing her skirt.

Alistair leaned across you to get close to Elsie, chewing, mouth open, intentionally being noisy, and spitting bits of mushy toast onto her lap. Elsie gasped and got back up, wiping the bread off her skirt with a napkin and a disgusted look on her porcelain face.

“It’s the first bloody day of school, Alistair. Calm down.” You pushed your cackling friend back into his chair, wondering how the hell girls were attracted to a moron like himself.

You had to agree Alistair was a looker with his curly hair dyed bright red — faded to burgundy from many Quidditch practices under the rain and days during the break where he went swimming — strong, square jaw, and flawless brown skin, but it didn’t excuse his rude behaviour.

Whenever he walked anywhere with you and the rest of your clique, girls would ogle at his pretty face and muscles, giggling and sometimes latching onto his brawny biceps, attempting to start a casual conversation. If they were smart, they would notice he wasn’t interested and walk away. If they weren't — which was most of the time — one of you had to ask them to leave.

“Blimey, Elsie! I didn’t notice you were here,” Alistair’s twin sister, Winnie, said from the other side of her brother, brushing her frizzy black hair out of her guileless eyes with a toothy grin.

Winnie spent most of her day zoning out during class or lying face-down on her bed to think about whatever she was currently obsessed with. So, one of you had to help her rush through homework or revise using your notes.

Elsie smiled painfully, sitting back down with an irked expression, “Hey, Winnie.”

You glanced around, “Wasn’t Brian supposed to come down with you?” You asked, eyebrows furrowed.

“He’s skipping breakfast,” she sighed. “He insisted on studying for our Defence Against the Dark Arts class — Mary, could you pass me the bacon?—and when I mean insisted, I mean insisted.” Elsie emphasised as she scraped the platter full of bacon on her plate.

“Of course he is,” said Alistair, waving his fork around like a wand.

Brian Ashmore was the final person to complete your friend group of five. Quiet and studious, he was, like you, a Half-Blood. Lucky for the both of you, no one in the school apart from a few close friends and some teachers knew about it, so you two fit right in with the Purebloods in your house. But it also made people see you as just another stereotypical Slytherin. 

After finishing your breakfast, you and your friends left the dining hall.

“Should we go find Brian or should we go to class without him?” asked Winnie. She twisted one of her black locks around her finger and skipped along next to Elsie.

Alistair waved his hand. “We all know that nerd won’t be late. Can’t be missing out on slobbering over the new DADA teachers and getting good grades,” he mocked in a pestering voice, causing you to roll your eyes in exasperation.

“Merlin’s beard, Campbell, you are such an ass.” Elsie shoved him.

“Aww, you’re so grumpy without your boyfriend,” he jeered.

"He is not my boyfriend."

You slid in between them to dissipate the argument before it escalated any further. One of your least favourite things in school was whenever those two idiots argued. Alistair always found a way to get under Elsie’s skin, and it seemed as if you were the peacekeeper of the group. Winnie usually wasn’t paying attention, and Brian didn’t care enough to solve any argument.

“Do you know what the new professor will be like?” you asked your Pureblood friends to ease the air around them, adjusting your book bag so it didn’t fall off your shoulder. “I heard he is an Auror, but that’s all I know without assuming based on looks.”

That seemed to do the trick because Alistair nodded with interest, “Yes. He’s called Mad-Eye Moody. From what I heard from Pa, he’s a rather crazy old bloke.”

Mr. Campbell was a professional auror and rather famous with a knack for violence. While Winnie aspired to be as recognised as her father in the same field of work, Alistair’s dream was to soar in the air and be a famous Quidditch Beater.

"Well, it’s unfortunate that you both share a name, then.” Elsie commented, obviously still peeved from your friend’s previous comment, “If we try to refer to the “insane Alistair”, people won’t be sure which one we’re talking about.”

“Wait what?” He stopped walking.

Elsie flashed him a quick smirk, “You didn’t know? Mad-Eye isn’t his first name, you eejit. You’re both called Alistair.”

“And all of you will be late if you keep stopping in the middle of the hallway,” a gruff voice said behind them.

You turned to be faced with a savage-looking man roughly the same height as you, with a balding head of greasy ginger hair. He had one normal-looking eye while the other was electrical blue, rolling around as if scanning his surroundings. His wrinkly, squashed face reminded you of a mean pitbull.

“And it’s Alastor Moody, young Miss,” he pointed a thick finger at Elsie, who recoiled in embarrassment and mild fear. “Not that’s any of your business; you’ll be calling me Professor.” 

“Sorry, Professor, it’s just playful teasing; my friends didn’t mean anything,” you jumped in as you gripped your bag’s brown strap, noting how you were the only one of your friends who wasn’t too affected by his odd appearance. You remember your parents raising you to never judge people based on looks.

The man leaned closer, seeing you eye-to-eye, “Hmm, you look familiar, Lassie. What’s your name?”

“(Name) (Surname), Professor.”

Moody barked a laugh, a sudden sound that caused you to flinch in surprise. “That’s why you look so familiar. I knew your mother, (Mom’s Name) (Maiden Name). It was unfortunate a brilliant witch like herself married a man like your father.”

You looked away at the mention of your Muggle father. It wasn’t the fact that he wasn’t a wizard that bothered you. Well yes, it was, but what frightened you was what the school would do if they found out. Many Purebloods were discriminatory towards any wix with Muggle ancestry, and being known as a Half-Blood or Muggleborn would greatly affect how students saw you. That was why you and Brian only informed people you were close to about your parentage.

You remembered, at first, Alistair was rather rankled after being revealed that information, but quickly got over it. You were aware that many others wouldn’t be so merciless.

But Mad-Eye Moody didn’t elaborate, only holding eye contact with you for a couple of seconds until he turned to walk around your group with a clickety-clack of something inanimate hitting the floor. Did this already odd man have a peg leg?

Winnie waited until he rounded a corner to speak, “He’s a little weird.”

Alistair shuddered. “He gave me chills. It’s so eerie how he just sneaked up on us out of nowhere.” He glanced towards you. “I also find it strange how he knew who you were, (Name).”

You were still turned to face where Moody disappeared. A peculiar smile stretched across your face.

“This is gonna be a good year.”

“What was that madman talking about? Late? We’re practically the first ones!” Elsie growled when you and your clique entered the spacious classroom.

“You have an unpleasant habit of insulting teachers, Elsie. One day, it’ll get you in real trouble.”

Mad-Eye Moody was nowhere to be seen, but behind a desk at the front of the classroom stood a boy with slicked-back hair streaked with a big slash of grey across the brown. He was twirling a quill; grey eyes focused on the object so you could see him from his side profile. His tired, unsmiling face turned to look at you and you spotted the burn scar covering the bottom half of his left side.

“Briaaannnn,” Winnie whined, dramatically swaying to the scar-faced teenager and enveloping him in a warm, Winnie-coded hug. “You need to eat! It’s unhealthy to be skipping breakfast.”

Brian Ashmore set the pen on a nearby desk and patted her head softly, bored eyes now focused on her form. Silence was his only response.

A mutter of voices came from the entrance behind you. It must have been five boys — four voices you didn’t recognise, one that you were very very familiar with. 

“Excuse me, could you please move out of the doorway?”

You turned around to be met by Cedric Diggory’s striking grey eyes. He stood, one book tucked under his arm, slightly ahead of his friends. His sweet smile slowly faded as he realised who he was talking to.

You eyed one another, and he and your friends fell silent watching the interaction.

“Of course, I just had to share my favourite class with Diggory,” you thought. “I forgot we had Defence Against the Dark Arts with the Hufflepuffs this year. Don’t we also have Herbology together?” You felt slightly ticked off that you shared most of Hufflepuff’s favourite class with Cedric and the 6th year of his house. If only the schedule was similar to last year, and Snape’s class was the one you had with him. At least there, you could flaunt your skills with flamboyance.

You saw a muscle tick in Cedric’s square jaw as he forced a polite smile, “Sorry, (Surname), I neglected to simplify my words so you could understand the point I am trying to make.” A couple of his friends snickered. He opened his mouth to continue speaking, but you cut him off.

“I find that wouldn’t be necessary; a prodigy like myself can comprehend simple Hufflepuff dialect,” you responded as calmly as possible, keeping yourself from punching his stupid face.

Cedric let out a sarcastic laugh. “Of course, I forgot that you defined smart as using a couple pretty words in your sentences.”

Your face contorted into a snarl, “Oh really? How’s your Exceeding Expectations in Potions doing, Diggory?” You practically spat at him, teeth bared and hands on your hips. You rolled your shoulder back to prevent your bag from slipping, keeping your aggressive attitude.

Cedric’s nostrils flared, and you knew you hit a nerve. 

But he didn’t do anything. Instead, he shoved past you to the desk at the second row furthest from the door. His friends followed suit, settling in a couple of seats near him.

You smirked triumphantly, walking over to Winnie and Brian with Elsie and Alistair confidently strutting behind you. You honestly found it rather funny how your group was sometimes more passionate about your and Cedric’s bickering than either of you.

You placed your bookbag at the desk closest to the door and chatted with your friends, waiting as students slowly filtered into the class and filled in the spots left.

Finally, as Alistair was recounting one of his dates with his girlfriend over the summer break — Elsie looked peeved, while Brian emphasised his surprise at how long their relationship was lasting — you saw the rough-looking professor limp through the door, his peg leg tapping against the wooden floor.

All of your classmates’ conversations halted at the sight of the strange man. They already saw him at the Great Feast yesterday, but they couldn’t help but stare, your friends included.

The students who weren’t seated settled into their desks. Alistair pulled back the chair to your right, the girls were at the desk directly to your right, and Brian was behind them, one of his and Cedric’s mutual friends, Leslie Westmore, to his right.

Professor Moody hobbled to the front of the class.

“Right then,” he said, “I’ve had a letter from Professor Lupin telling me of the subjects you’ve learned from last year. Seems you’ve covered rather interesting creatures — Merfolk, Basilisks, a bit of Dragons, and Phoenixes, ain’t that right?” 

A murmur of agreement rippled through the students, and you nodded, mildly interested.

“A bit disappointing that you didn’t finish the unit on Dragons, but what you know right now is alright. But you are behind — very behind — with dealing with Dark Curses. Now, Dumbledore believes that you are old enough to study these curses only in 6th year, but I disagree. It’s never too early to learn about them. If you’d be in 3rd or 2nd year, lacking understanding would be acceptable. But you are already in 6th year, and having no knowledge of the Dark Arts — the real Dark Arts — is very very unfortunate.”

Brian raised his hand but didn’t wait to be called on to speak, “Actually, sir, Professor Lupin informed us quite a bit on the subject of the Dark Arts — specifically the Unforgivable Curses.” 

“Is that so?” Professor Moody stared directly at him with his normal eye, his prosthetic one zooming around the room, before settling down on two girls at the back, “You need to put those candies away, Miss Armstrong and Miss Hilton; my classroom is not a restaurant.”

The girls blushed and frantically put their candy back in their bags, eyes downcast with embarrassment. You felt remorse towards them, but not enough to be distracted from the lesson.

Moody continued without skipping a beat, “With that new information, I think I know where to start this lesson. Alright, everybody knows what the Imperius Curse does, yes?” After a short second with hesitant nods of approval from the students, he continued, “Good, because today you will learn how to resist it.”

By the end of the first period, a red-faced Brian, a distracted Winnie, a sore Alistair, a smug-looking Elsie, and a sympathetic you walked out of Professor Moody’s classroom.

After a couple of paces, Brian shoved his face into his hands and let out a dejected groan. You placed your hand on his shoulder, gently petting his deltoids, a solicitous smile on your lips as you tried to comfort him.

“Hey, it’s not that bad.”

He took his head out of his hand, and you saw his cheeks were rose-red. “Well, you weren’t the one who played Princess Fairy in front of the whole class, Mr. Perfect.” He sighed miserably, “One word goes around the school, I’ll be ruined!”

“Oh please,” Alistair jumped in with a hand massaging his coccyx, “I’d much rather do that than have to sit out for a single Quidditch practice because of a butt injury of all things. Blimey, he’s truly a madman…”

Next to him, you could hear Winnie humming as if she had never eaten that spider not even twenty minutes prior. Even the thought of doing the same nauseated you, so seeing your friend looking serene made you question her morality. 

Elsie shrugged, joining the conversation, "Well, at least everyone else in the class had to go through a similar experience as us, so if they are daft enough to mess with you, you could just blackmail them.” It was nice that Elsie acted sympathetic towards Alistair, but you suspected she was actually talking to Brian.

“Funny. The two only students who managed to break from the curse are comforting us,” huffed Brian.

Elsie gave him a confident half-smirk and raised her eyebrows while you shrugged with a chuckle, tugging on your bag’s straps.

“Puddings!”

The four of you engaged in the conversation halted, and you grabbed Winnie’s arm so she didn’t wander off. This snapped her back into reality, and you turned your heads to face the direction of the noise.

A pretty girl with honey-brown eyes and wavy, blond hair tied into a low ponytail ran up to your group.

You saw Alistair’s pained smile turn into his typical, white-toothed grin when she wrapped her skinny arms around his torso. She was over a head shorter than him, so she buried her face into his chest with a sing-song sigh.

Once she pulled away, Elsie eyed her repeatedly, “What do you want, White?”

The pretty blonde — a popular Pureblood Hufflepuff named Destiny White — frowned at Elsie’s cold comment, “You shouldn’t be so mean, Elsie, aren’t we friends? We don’t treat friends like that.” She paused momentarily before giving her a slightly satirical smile, “Or maybe Slytherin girls are just rude like that.”

Elsie narrowed her eyes, but when Brian touched her shoulder, she held her condescending tongue. As much as you disliked Elsie’s outbursts, you agreed that Destiny was a reasonable person to yell at.

Destiny turned back to a haughty-looking Alistair, handing him a paper envelope, “Anyways, the Weasley twins are hosting a little get-together for all the students 16 and up. We’re meeting up at 11 PM tonight in front of the Gryffindor common room so they can let us in.”

“Why would they host a party in a common room?” You inquired, confused, “Wouldn’t it wake up the younger kids?”

Destiny let out a little giggle, “The party isn’t in the common room, silly. I’d tell you the location, but that’s a little secret, and we don’t want the professors to overhear.” She lowered her voice as she spoke, “All the info is in the invitation.”

“Are we invited?” Winnie spoke up from behind you. She eyed the envelope her brother held in his hand with piqued interest.

“Of course,” Destiny stuck her hand into her pocket to retrieve four other letters, handing them to your group. Elsie was the only one who hesitated before begrudgingly plucking it from Destiny’s hand. 

Brian eyed his envelope suspiciously, “How did you get so many?”

“Fred and George want my help since I’m friends with tons of people here!”

“Thanks, Babe,” Alistair smirked, leaning down to peck her cheek, and Destiny giggled. “We’ll be there.”

They shared a quick kiss on the lips, and Destiny slowly backed away, waving her hand, “I hope to see all of you at the party,” she spun around before stopping and turning her head, eyeing Elsie with a cheeky expression, “Even those who might ruin it.”

Immediately after she was out of earshot, Elsie hissed at Alistair, red-faced with vexation, “Leave her; she’s a bitch.”

Alistair laughed, “No way. One of the perks of dating her is the way she always manages to piss you off.” He elbowed her arm playfully before advancing to his next class, too ignorant to notice the faint blush spreading across Elsie’s cheeks.

...

Thank you for reading, please comment any suggestions you have or any issues I should fix. Like I said in a Tumblr post, I will only post on Thursdays at 12 AM BST. I may post every week or every two weeks, I don't really know. It depends how long I take. For those who are interested, here's how I imagined Winnie would look like.

Chapter 2

[wandafiction]

I've Seen The Edits

Warnings: Lil angst, Overthinking, Cuteness and fluff.

You're smiling to yourself as you enter the living room, carrying two plates of food in your hand, as you see your wife on her phone seemingly flicking through something. You place the plates down on the coffee table, bending down to give her a kiss on the forehead and try to sneak a peek at what she is looking at but she is quick to turn her phone off and tilt her head so she can kiss your lips a few times. 

"Thank you for lunch my love." You smile, giving her another kiss.

"I'm just going to grab the drinks, don't wait up." You chuckle to yourself when she immediately leans forward grabbing her plate and lifting the peanut butter and jelly sandwich to her mouth. 

You let your mind wander at what could have been on her phone, what was she trying to hide from you, not that you didn't trust her but she was only ever on her phone for work calls or with Rose’s dad. You shake your head quickly, trying not to overthink it as you grab the two glasses of water and start heading back into the living room only to stop when you see Scarlett talking to her phone.

"I've seen the edits." You choke on air, stopping in the doorway for a second, your mind reeling at the idea. You knew exactly what she meant. 

You see you were a fan when you met Scarlett, still are of course and now you can say your her biggest fan and you know it to be true, and just like any other fan you too enjoyed watching edits and maybe reading 1 or 2 fanfics on wattpad…Okay many fanfics but that's not the important detail, the important detail is that she has seen them….ALL… 

"Whatcha doing?" You manage to hide your shock, and now slightly sweaty palms, as you sit down next to her acting like you definitely don't know what she is doing. 

"I'm just making a video telling my fans that I have seen the edits they have made of me. And someone also mentioned something called wattpad, which turns out to be an app where people write books. So I downloaded it to take a look and it's interesting." You raise a brow as you take a shaky sip of your water. 

"Interesting how?" Scarlett smiles at your question moving so she is sitting criss-cross applesauce on the couch facing you. 

"Well I searched my name, because why not, and lots of different things popped up. Did you know people write books about me?" 

"Uh, no." You take another drink clearing your throat. "I mean I know people edit videos but the book thing. Nope, definitely not." 

"Oh really so Scarlett's bitch isn't you?" She smirks as your mouth opens and closes again as you try to answer. 

"I mean I am your bitch right?" She simply raises a brow and you let out a defeated sigh. 

"Show me the account." You hold your hand out and she places her phone in it before snuggling up to your side and resting her head against your shoulder. 

"So is it you?" You take a quick glance at Scarlett then back to the phone where you can see your old wattpad account. 

"Nope, not me." Before you can try and close the app down Scarlett snatches her phone back. 

"But you admit to having it." She says with a sly smirk and a raised brow, damn she's good. 

"I mean, sure I had wattpad at one point or another." You shrug moving to stand off the couch feeling a little weird that she is finding these things out. 

"Baby where are you going?" You turn around to look at her, her phone now face down against the couch cushion with her brows furrowed in curiosity, before she lets out an oh. "So that account is yours."

"We didn't know each other at this point, in fact I didn't think we would ever meet at any point in time. So I decided to, you know, read some stuff and live my life vicariously through other people's writings." You bite your lip pulling at your fingers as you try to defend yourself. 

"Okay, but it says here that you've also written a few." She picks her phone back up pointing out the fact you most definitely did write a few of your own books, many books in fact. 

"I…I…can we just forget about this. Like I said I didn't ever think I'd actually meet you and it's embarrassing that you managed to find it. Hang on, how did you find it?" You continue to pull at your nails as Scarlett puts her phone down, standing up so she can make her way towards you pulling your hands apart and holding them in hers  

"Baby, take a breath. I'm not mad or angry or even weirded out. I just thought it was curious that people not only make edits but also write stories about me for other people to - what did you say - vicariously live their lives through. And as for figuring out that it was probably you, you set your location as between Scarlett's legs. And your little bio thing says that you're a simp for Scarlett and would me run you over with a car." She giggles as you groan. "Oh and the profile picture is of your car."

"Oh god." You let out an embarrassed sigh as you look down at the floor. "Look, you were never meant to know about it, about any of it. Fuck I'm such an idiot for not deleting my account when I got with you, I mean I completely forgot about it once we got serious and only because you mentioned it do I remember. I will delete it now, then we can just move on."

"Baby why are you getting so defensive about it? I've already said I'm not weirded out by it, I was genuinely just curious what people write about me." Scarlett tries her best to gauge what's going on but you pull away from her rubbing your hand harshly across your brows.

"Because it's weird for me, okay!" You scoff trying to get her to understand. "It's weird for me! I was a fan. A nobody. Someone who never in a million years thought that someone that they read about and watched edits about would ever even say hello to them let alone marry them! So yes Scarlett, it's weird for me that you know this about me." 

You run your hand frustratedly through your hair having an internal freak out about the fact that she found everything. Your hand fumbles in your pocket as you go to pull out your phone, only to realise you've left it in the bedroom and without saying a word hurriedly walk to go and grab it. 

"Baby. Where are you going?" You ignore her, not really hearing her anyway as your one goal is to delete everything off of your wattpad. 

You walk into the bedroom in a daze, looking for your phone as your hands scramble around the bed covers trying to find it. Your groan in frustration deciding to toss the cover in the air a few times, not thinking about the consequences until you see your phone flying upwards then down to the carpeted floor. 

"Fucking shit." You quickly grab your phone relieved when you see no cracks on the screen and immediately re-download wattpad just to be able to delete everything. 

"Baby come on. Why are you being so weird about this?" You turn to face Scarlett who is leaning against the doorframe of the bedroom. "I think it's kind of sweet that you used to watch the edits and that. Wait, what are you doing?"

"I'm deleting my wattpad account. I can't have you reading what I used to write or looking at what I used to read. Your fans are probably losing their shit at the fact that you know about everything and I'm included in that category." 

"Baby. Come on. Don't be so rash. Sure I'm surprised that people write books about me, about me personally. I know what fanfiction is, so I know about the Natasha stuff but I just didn't expect the real life stuff. You would have put a lot of effort into those books, just because they are about me doesn't make them any less than what they are." 

"It's just weird. Some of the stuff I was reading and writing, makes me a little uncomfortable that I'm now with the woman it's all about." You drop your phone onto the bed, your profile still on the screen, as you sit down putting your head in your hands. 

"Baby what's this really about?" Scarlett pushes herself off the doorframe crouching down in front of you, resting her hands on your knees when she hears a small sniffle. "Talk to me baby." 

"I just feel like you could do so much better than me, you know? Like you have so many adoring fans and celebrities no doubt who all love you, and, and…and I just feel like you could do better. We met in a coffee shop where I used to work, and our story started there. That's like wattpad 101….it's just….I…."

"You feel like this is all too good to be true sometimes?" You give a defeated nod, rubbing your hands harshly across your face. 

"I mean yeah. I love you so much that it hurts and I know we are married living in this house. We have Rose. But sometimes I go to sleep and think maybe this is when I wake up to find out it's all a dream." You feel your hands being pulled away from your face, looking down to your wife you see nothing but love in her eyes. 

"This isn't a dream, my love. This is real life. I saw you in that coffee shop the first few times I went in there, and you were so kind, funny and amazing. I had known that you knew who I was because of the way your eyes went wide the first time I walked in. But you didn't act any differently towards me, didn't ask for any photos or say anything about who I was until you said and I quote 'enjoy your coffee miss Johansson and I hope you have a great day'. I kept going back because of the way you treated me as a normal human being and not someone in the limelight. I fell for you, I crushed hard. Like so fucking hard on you. Who asked who out first?"

"You." You mumble as you listen to her retell the story, a wide smile on her face but a note of seriousness behind her features. 

"Exactly. Me. I pursued you. I took you on a date, out of town so we couldn't be snooped on. You sang and danced to your heart's content as I drove us, and I felt myself falling further. The second date you took me to a little private picnic area where I would feel comfortable being out in the open because of my lifestyle. The third date we ended back at your place watching movies and eating junk food. You always waited for me to be okay with something, you waited for me to be comfortable with being who I was in public. You waited for me to feel comfortable about outing our relationship when I panicked because of the media's rumours about me because I wasn't out of the closet. Who asked who to move in?"

"You."

"Who asked who to marry the other?"

"You."

"Who is in front of you right now telling you all of these things?"

"You."

"Exactly. Baby, this isn't a story that someone has taken the time to write and plan and share with others. This isn't something that can be edited and made to feel like you're in a movie or a 30 second video that you watch over and over to live vicariously through your phone." 

Scarlett stands up standing between your legs, and pulls your head to rest against her stomach. Your arms wrap around her body holding on tightly as you pull her closer. You let out a small hum when you feel one of her hands start weaving through the top of your hair while the other rubs gentle circles at the top of your back. 

"This is 100 percent real. No one needs to write about our love to make it real because we can feel it between us every day. The way you look at me with those soft eyes that tell 1000s of stories, with so much history behind them and it's so easy for me to get lost and trapped in your stare. The way you care for me and Rose is beyond what any words can describe. You may have been a fan first, and I hope you still are."

"I am." You giggle against her stomach and she pats your back lightly.

"Let me finish."

"Sorry." You smile, planting a small kiss on her stomach as she continues her movements of rubbing your back.

"As I was saying. You may have been a fan like so many others, but the person I fell for. The person I love and cherish. The person I hold close to my heart. The person who is in front of me, holding me as I say this. I never once thought that anyone could be better than them because they are the best person I know. Just because you were a fan who watched edits and read fanfiction about me does not mean that I will love you any less. You are it for me Y/n. There is never going to be anyone else. I don't see anyone else when in a room of celebrities or fans because the only person I am looking at is you on the sidelines supporting me, loving me, and waiting for me."

"Your fans probably write me as the bad guy." You laugh as you get another pat on the back, this one a little harsher than the last but the way Scarlett is laughing you know she means no harm. 

"Well I think you'd make a very sexy bad guy." You lean back slightly keeping your hold on her waist with your lip between your teeth.

"Oh yeah." You wiggle your eyebrows both you and Scarlett giggling as she leans down to kiss your lips a few times. "Even when they make me cheat on you, because they need to have some drama."

"Mmm, okay maybe not but I also know that you'd never cheat on me because you're so smitten with me."

"Nope, never ever." She smiles against your lips before pulling away and looking down at you. 

"Cuddles and a movie?" 

"Cuddles, movies and junk food in bed?" Scarlett rolls her eyes with a smile. 

"Just this once." She tries to remain serious as she holds up one finger at you but you quickly slap it away and pull her down on top of you, both of you laughing at your silliness. 

♤♡◇♧

You giggle to yourself when you feel Scarlett yawn against your neck, her body is completely on top of yours, her legs tangled with yours as her arms wrap securely around your waist. 

"Tired, my love?" You gently weave a hand through her hair feeling her nod against you and a small kiss being planted against your neck. 

"I wanna finish the movie." She turns her head slightly so she can see the TV through one eye from just under your jaw and you turn your head so your chin is resting on her temple so she can see it better. "Wait since when were we watching tik tok edits?" 

"Since you said you liked them so I've been streaming them to the TV but someone's been asleep on top of me and hasn't noticed."

"My biggest fan." Scarlett smiles as she sits up, straddling your lap with her hands resting on your chest. 

"Always." Your hands land on her thighs gently rubbing them up and down as you look up at her, smiling when you see another tiny yawn part her lips. "Holy shit. I gotta show you something."

You sit up and Scarlett rolls off of you with a groan, spreading out on the bed as you dart into the ensuite bathroom. She lifts her head to try and see what you are doing when she hears a few things drop on the floor, but gives up and lays her head back down when all she can see is your shadow moving about in the harsh bathroom light. Her eyes close for just a second before they ping open when she feels things being dropped next to her. 

"Look what I got." You smile widely as Scarlett sits up slightly prompting her body up with her elbows. 

"You brought stuff from the outset?" She asks so quietly you almost miss it as she sits up properly, her hands ghosting over the products next to her as she looks the items over before looking up at you. 

"Of course I did my love. You've been working so hard these past couple years on it and I knew from the get go it was going to be amazing and I just had to show my support by buying it all." You ramble as you flip the small bottles over so they are neatly lined up with the labels all facing upwards so she can read them. 

"You brought 2 of everything?" She scrunches her brows slightly and you press a small kiss between them to get them to relax. 

"Yes I did because, well, you know how Rose loves doing our makeup. Well I just thought that she could have her own so she could use the products on us before or after the make up. Then I also have one for daily use. Also these are amazing. I mean look at my skin. It's so soft and clear and you did an amazing job and I love you so much." You smile brightly as Scarlett bites her lips slightly, a few small tears brimming in her eyes. 

"Baby you didn't have to. I would have been fine with you using your normal products." You shake your head as you move the stuff off the bed and onto the bedside table before sitting in front of Scarlett and pulling her hands into your lap. 

"Firstly, as soon as this stuff arrived my old stuff went in the trash. Secondly, I will always support you in everything I do so of course I brought your skin care products. Thirdly, what sort of fan would I be if I didn't buy everything you make." Scarlett giggles as she wipes at her eyes.

"I love you so much. Thank you." You hold your arms open as an invitation for cuddles and Scarlett immediately leans forward wrapping her arms around you. 

"I love you more." You say as you manoeuvre the two of you so that she is back to laying on top of you and you start to trace your fingers up and down her back.

"Nope. I love you more." 

"Not possible, my love. You weren't the one who used to read books about me." Scarlett hits your chest gently lifting her head up to look at you. 

"I guess not, but if someone were to write a book about you now. Well I would most definitely read it." You roll your eyes, giving her butt a small tap and she giggles against your chest. 

"Well you do know your fans make edits of you and me. You and Lizzie. Natasha and Wanda." Scarlett sits up quickly looking down at you in slight shock. 

"Wait there's more?" 

°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•

[thelargefrye]

FIRST MEETING MONTAGE … head canons

pairing : ateez x f!reader (separately)

genre : idol au, headcanons, each member has their own mini genres and tropes, future dad!ateez au

warnings : language, a nose bleed (jongho), some members are longer than others! sorry! also i’ve never been to a fansign so i’m only going by what i think happens 🥲

note : a remake and return of the mr. housedad series! been thinking about this for a while, so yep! here it is, enjoy… feedback is appreciated

how you and ateez met, setting your future in stone.

KIM HONGJOONG x ARTIST!F!READER ( fake dating, strangers to friends to lovers )

you felt stupid for some reason. like you should have never agreed to doing the blind date your friend insisted on setting up for you.

mainly because right now you are getting stood up, it’s been twenty minutes past the time you were suppose to meet your date and now you just feel silly. maybe you should just go home.

“um, excuse me, are you y/n?” a voice asks behind you and you turn to see probably one of the most handsomest men you have ever seen.

everything about him was just so put together. his split hair being eye catching and his outfit just being so stylish makes you feel underdressed if you’re being honest.

“yes! I’m y/n, are you hongjoong?”

“haha, yes i am, sorry i was late. i got caught up with work,” he says before he’s walking you towards the restaurant doors. “shall we go in and talk?”

you nod and can’t help the heat going to your cheeks as he opens the door for you before following close behind you into the restaurant.

“to be honest, i only agreed to this date because my friend has been pressuring me to try and date,” he says and you feel an odd twist in your stomach. he didn’t even want to be on this date.

so that’s why he was late, you think to yourself as you nod at his words. granted at first you weren’t that excited to be going on a blind date, but you really did want to get out there and start dating.

“my friend insisted i go on this date as well. she tells me that maybe going on a few dates here and there would help with my creative block that i’ve been in for the past few months,” you tell him with a laugh and he nods at your words.

“i hate creative blocks,” he says as he runs a hand through his split colored hair. “what do you do for a living?”

“i’m an artist. i do a lot of commission paintings and illustrations for children books. i also do paintings for myself and a few galleries here and there when they want me.”

“you’re an artist? that sounds amazing,” he says and you notice the immediate stars appearing in his eyes and you feel a sudden boost in your ego. “i think if i wasn’t so in love with music, i would definitely have become a painter.”

“hey, i suddenly just had an idea,” hongjoong says which quickly earns your attention as you look up from your food. “this might seem crazy, but what do you think about pretending to date?”

“pretending to date? what do you mean?”

“well it’s obvious that i’m not interested in actually dating and you’re in a creative block, so what if we help each other out. we pretend to date so i can get my friend off my back and when we do hangout, i help you try to get out of your creative block. a win-win if you ask me.”

god, what kind of fanfic are you living in right now. fake date an idol? that sounds like a recipe for disaster, but you can’t ignore how tempting it sounds. you really do need to get out of your creative block soon in time for the next exhibit and maybe doing painting based on love could be a good thing to try.

“okay, let’s do it.”

hongjoong smiles at your words before saying, “can’t wait to fake date you!”

PARK SEONGHWA x IDOL!F!READER ( strangers to lovers, nct added member )

you looked so pretty, sitting there along with the other hosts is what seonghwa thought as he watched you from where he was sitting with his members. he licked his lips, stars in his eyes as he still couldn’t wrap his head around seeing you.

his members would tease him later but he didn’t care. you’ve been his celebrity crush for a while now, even back when he was a trainee, he’s adored you.

and recently he found out that he was your ideal type. he felt like it was a huge ego boost. he wanted to talk to you, but at the same time he was nervous.

some of his members — i.e wooyoung and san — told him he should give you his number while they were in the show. he tried arguing with them, telling them no and that he honestly couldn’t because what if you rejected him. he couldn’t handle such a rejection from you.

“you should just try it, hyung, i’m sure she’ll say yes,” san said and once they all took a break in filming it was san who pushed seonghwa over towards you.

“hi, um, i’m ateez’s seonghwa,” he says and cringes at how he chose to introduce himself.

“oh, hi, it’s nice to you meet finally you seonghwa! i’m nct’s y/n,” you say as the two of you bow to each other.

“i just wanted to say that i’ve been a big fan of yours for a while and wanted to know if you would want to hangout sometime?”

you look surprised by his sudden question and seonghwa wonders if maybe he crossed a line, but your words are quick to make him think otherwise.

“o-of course! i would love to hangout sometime!” you say and seonghwa can’t help but find you extremely adorable in this moment.

“do you… maybe want to exchange numbers?”

“yes, sure, of course!” you say and seonghwa laughs at your response as he pulls his phone out while you do the same. you two are quick to exchange numbers before the producers are calling for everyone to return to the spots. “i guess we’ll talk later, right?”

“definitely.”

“great, good luck on your group’s performance!” the two of you wave before you walk off and seonghwa can’t help the lovestruck feeling that over takes him.

“soooo… how did it go?” san asks coming up to the eldest member with a sly smirk.

“shut up,” seonghwa says before shoving san slightly and walking back to join the rest of the members.

JEONG YUNHO x GAME DEVELOPER!F!READER ( strangers to lovers, dad!yunho )

you were use to being alone. especially since you started living abroad in korea away from your friends and family you had grown up with and cherished. you often relied on memories to keep you company, but recently one of your coworkers told you a solution to your loneliness.

“a dog?” you had only thought about getting a pet a few times, but concluded that maybe getting one while being abroad wasn’t the best idea. your job wasn’t always the most stable as any game you and your team were working on could get cancelled last minute. plus you were still slowly trying to figure out how to take care of yourself, let alone a dog.

“you should think about it! there’s an adoption center nearby, so maybe check it out sometime,” they told you and only agreed to think about it.

and think about it you did because the next thing you knew, you were making your way to the adoption center.

you were going to adopt a dog.

you decided that maybe it was for the best to adopt a dog, maybe having someone else to take care of would make you less lonely. and of course it would get you out of the house more…

and that’s exactly what is happening three weeks after you adopted a cute labrador retriever named lily who you just immediately connected with. she has a lot of energy, that’s for sure but you don’t mind.

that’s actually how you found yourself at the park, playing fetch with her. throwing the bright yellow ball and watching lily as she goes and retrieves it.

you watch as she runs back to you, ball in her mouth as she drops it in front of you. picking it up, you toss it and your surprised by how far it goes. watching the ball land in the ground and roll to a complete stranger, a black cap on his head and mask pulled up over his face. the stranger picks the ball up right as lily comes barreling towards him.

“wait, lily!” you shout as you watch her pounce the man and you immediately take off towards the two. “oh my gosh, i am so sorry!”

the man laughs as he shakes his head and gives lily the ball. lily turns to run back to you, but seems surprised and happy to see you right there next to her.

“no worries, i probably shouldn’t have picked the ball up,” he says and even if he’s wearing a mask, you can tell he’s smiling from how his eyes crinkle.

“still i am so sorry, i just adopted her and we’re still learning,” you say, feeling an embarrassed heat take over your face.

“really, don’t worry about, but if you still feel guilty how about you take me to get some coffee? i know a good dog friendly café that’s nearby,” he says as he bends down to pet lily.

wow, he’s smooth. “o-oh, uh, sure! um, i’m y/n and this is lily!” you say and cringe at how a little too excited you seemed.

“i’m yunho.”

KANG YEOSANG x FASHION STUDENT!F!READER ( idol and fan to friends to lovers )

you actually managed to get into a fansign. and one for your ult group nonetheless. you were so excited that you almost threw up, twice. but you didn’t! then as the day drew closer, you got more nervous. you were worried about what would happen if you accidentally made a fool of yourself in front of your favorite group.

oh god what if you tripped! no, don’t think like that because then you will definitely trip.

when the day finally came, you made sure to dress cutely. despite knowing that none of the members would probably remember you, you still wanted to look cute so that you could look back fondly on this memory.

however, what was suppose to be a good day with meeting your favorite group soon turned into probably the worst day you’ve had in a while.

first you had to chase after your cat after she managed to escape your apartment. then you miss your bus by a second — you literally watched it take off as you were running down the crowded street to make it. so in a hurry you grab a cab in order to take you to the fansign. thankfully you managed to grab a cab fairly easy and arriving there was also just as easy.

however, it started going down once again when you tried to enter the fansign and the guard stops you.

“sorry this is a fake ticket,” he says before handing you your paper back. you’re completely shocked as you look at him.

“w-what?” you are easily pushed aside by the other fans behind you and you let them as you are still in shock. you were scammed into believing you had actually won a fansign with ateez.

what kind of cruel world is this you think as you walk outside the building and onto the steps. you know you probably shouldn’t be sitting here, but your legs don’t allow you to go any further. even after the fansign started, you find yourself still sitting on the steps. you can only faintly hear ateez from inside along with all the lucky atiny who didn’t get scammed.

when the fansign is over and all the fans had seemingly left, you find yourself on a nearby bench. you can’t help but look at your ateez album and wondering how this day that was suppose to be a great one turned out to be so… disheartening.

“excuse me,” a deep voice startles you from your thought and you turn to see… yeosang standing next to you. “did you go to the fansign?” he asks, gesturing to your album.

“o-oh, no, i didn’t. i had a fake ticket,” you say before you quickly wonder why you are explaining it to him.

“oh, i’m sorry…” he says trailing off before you watch something click in his head as his whole face lights up, “do you mind if i take it for a moment?” he asks, again gesturing to your album and you willingly hand it over. “what’s your name?”

“y/n.”

once he has your album, he motions for you to say before he dashes off back into the building. it’s several minutes later when he returns and hands you back your… now signed album.

“thank you for supporting ateez,” he says with a small bow before a man — who you assume is his manager — calls for him and yeosang is soon disappearing back into the building with a small smile and wave as a quick goodbye.

what… just happened? you look at your album, quickly opening it and flipping through the pages to notice how each member had signed it. however you notice something different when you get to yeosang’s pages.

“sorry you got scammed, but hopefully this makes it better! btw you looked cute, so smile okay? xx-xxx-xxx”

did you just get kang yeosang’s number?

CHOI SAN x COLLEGE STUDENT!F!READER ( idol and fan to friends to lovers )

no way. no fucking way. this was not happening. there was no way THE choi san was standing right in front of you while you dressed like an elderly woman. not that there was anything wrong with dressing like an elderly woman, but meeting your bias while dressed as such was not ideal.

“oh? are you the exchange student my grandma was talking about?” oh shit, his grandmother talked about you to him.

“u-um, y-yeah, i’m y/n,” wow, smooth y/n, real smooth.

“ah, well if you need help with anything while i’m here let me know,” he says with a smile before turning and walking away leaving you a little dumbfounded.

you watch him walk back into the room that is only just down the hall from yours and felt your heart jump down to your stomach. holy crap, choi san is staying only a few rooms from you. what kind of fanfic trope is this?!

this had to be a dream, this had to be anything but real. you refuse to believe it. you slowly closed your bedroom door, walked over to your bed, and grabbed your pillow before screaming into it.

these next two weeks were going to be interesting, that’s for sure.

SONG MINGI x WEBTOON ARTIST!F!READER ( strangers to friends to lovers )

mingi felt weird. not weird in a bad way, but just felt… weird. actually he wasn’t really sure how to explain it. his mom had asked him to go greet their new neighbor who was his age.

was this her way of trying to get him to start dating? to have him meet her new neighbor and have them just… fall in love?

but even if it was weird, mingi didn’t argue or question his mom and so that’s how he found himself standing in front of your door ready to knock and introduce himself.

when he did knock, it took a few minutes before someone eventually came to the door. and mingi won’t lie, you looked like you hadn’t seen another human for a few days with how disheveled you looked.

he wasn’t trying to judge you or anything, but it was quite obvious.

“can i help you?” you ask after you both stood there in silence for a few moments.

“o-oh, um, i’m mingi. my mom lives next door and wanted me to give you this as a welcome present,” he says presenting the kimchi he almost forgot he had in his hands.

you glanced down at his hands and noticed the container of kimchi. he seen you hesitate for a moment before you took it with gentle hands and that was probably the softest thing he’d witnessed from you since meeting you less than five minutes ago.

“thank you,” you said before going back into your apartment and closing the door behind you.

“so how did it go?” his mom asked once he returned. mingi still felt like the interaction happened a little too fast for his liking.

“it was… okay. she’s seems… interesting.”

“good! maybe this could be the start of a new friendship!”

“yeah, a new friendship.”

JUNG WOOYOUNG x IDOL!F!READER ( strangers to friends )

“just talk to him, y/n, what could go wrong?” your group member insisted as you both stood near the vending machines at music show.

“a lot could go wrong and then i would just end up looking stupid in front of him and never be able to show my face in front of him again,” you told her and she gave you a pointed look as if to say really? but yes, really!

“come on, y/n, why don’t we go visit him and his group under the guise of giving them our album? maybe then you can get the chance to talk to him,” she suggests and you are about to deny it when she stops you and drags you back to your group’s dressing room.

which is how you all end up knocking on ateez’s dressing room door, your group’s album clutched tightly in your grip. when ateez’s manager opens the door, your leader bows and introduces you all and tells him how you wish to gift ateez a copy of your album.

“hello, we are visage,” you all say in unison before ateez is quick to also introduce themselves.

“we were just wanting to gift you all a copy of our album,” your leader says before gesturing to you who was still tightly holding onto the album.

your other group member gives you a light push which makes you step forward. your eyes flicker between wooyoung and the album before you’re quickly holding the album out for the dancer to take. could you have been any more obvious about your feelings? probably, but you didn’t want to think about it.

you really wish a giant hole would open up on the ground and swallow you up right now. wooyoung only smiles as he takes the album from you and you step back in your spot between your members.

your leader and hongjoong speak a little bit more before your group leaves and once back in the safety of your dressing room, you collapse onto the leather couch. again, can a giant hole just please swallow you up. you lay there for several minutes, just accepting that you probably made a fool of yourself in front of your crush.

ding! you look up and at your phone to see you got a text from an unknown number

‘hey this is wooyoung! love your dance covers let’s hangout sometime and film one together!!!’

CHOI JONGHO x PRODUCER!F!READER ( co-workers to lovers )

jongho felt his jaw dropped when he was told that you would be working for kq and especially with ateez. how the company managed that is beyond him, but he’s not complaining.

of course his first time meeting you could have gone better than him causing you a nose bleed, but alas not everything goes as plan.

jongho doesn’t even remember all of what happened. one minute he was waiting to record his lines when he had to use the bathroom. so when he opens the door, he opens it smacking you in the face and watching you fall to the floor. your bag falling and papers scattering around you and jongho feels like his soul should have left his body.

“oh fuck, i am so sorry, are you okay?” he asks quickly bending down to help you pick your stuff up when he looks over to notice some blood dripping down your nose. jongho feels even worse as he immediately tries to help you even quicker. “oh god, your nose is bleeding! again, i’m so sorry!”

“i-it’s okay! i wasn’t paying any attention. i should be the one apologizing,” you say as you take a tissue out and attempt to stop your nose bleed.

“i can’t believe i gave my favorite producer a nose bleed,” jongho mumbles as you can’t help but laugh at how cute he is acting. the pout on his face doing wonders to make him fit into the role of the maknae, that you are well aware that he doesn’t always fit into.

“i’m your favorite producer?” you ask, eyes shining and jongho realizes that you heard him.

“y-yes, i love a lot of your songs even your solo stuff. your first album has always been a personal favorite of mine,” he says as he helps you stand, your bag now in his hands as he gently opens the door for you.

“well i’m a fan of your voice,” you say as you take your bag from him, “and i can’t wait to work with you jongho,” you say before walking into the studio and leaving jongho by himself in the hallway.

“she likes my voice.”

tag list : @invuwrld @frankenstein852 @watamotee33 @kawennote09 @mixling-blog @marahleiwhen @kpopnightingale @harry-the-pottypus @rdiamond2727 @sanniesbum @marvelahsobx @khjcoo @mysticfire0435 @exfolitae @kryybebe @dementedaly @simonswhore @cvpitvno @kangskims @moonm1st

[zombiigrll]

ok ok, hear me out...

Enid Rhee x Dixon!Reader??

Prompt: "...Why are you quiet?" "That's probably the most I've ever heard you talk."

So basically, where reader (either fem or gn, whatever you want) is Daryl's kid (biological or adoptive) and they're super quiet, similar to their father. Like, only speaks if spoken to. Reader and Enid are close friends and maybe after a dangerous encounter, or something angsty, reader can't keep their feelings to themselves anymore and confesses.

AAAGH i'm gonna leave it at that and give you whatever creativities you want. I literally love all your fics and your style of writing, so I hope you like this request and take it cause I would personally be thrilled to see what you come up with.

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FATHERS DAUGHTER. ⋆｡°✩ enid rhee x fem!dixon!reader .ᐟ WORD COUNT .ᐟ ⭑ 1.2K ꩜ .ᐟ WARNINGS ⭑ angst + fluff + friends to lovers (mostly fluff IDK WHAT TO CALL IT theres so many fanfic terms my ass is not caught up on!), reader is daryls daughter (you can interpret if its adoptive or not ), reader is quiet/monotoned, near-death situation? kissing, mostly just cute stuff with a tiny bit of angst! .ᐟ SUMMARY .ᐟ ⭑ you admit your feelings out of fear. ꩜ .ᐟ A/N .ᐟ ⭑ okay i LOVE THIS REQUEST ANON!! thank you so much!! enid is so fun to write for and this was just so fun to write AHH!! and thank you so much im so glad you like my writing, hope i did your request justice <3

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you had been staying up all night reading some book you had found on a run.

it was clear to everyone that you were a night owl. you could stay up days without being super effected by it, but that could also just be what happens after being in an apocalypse for a few years.

or, it could be that you were exactly like your father.

you were as quiet as him, had the same sleep schedule as him, everything.

anywho, you stayed up and saw the sun started rising, and thats when you remembered you and enid had a quick run together a little ways away from alexandria.

you decided to start getting ready a bit early, just to kill some time. you placed your bookmark in the gutter of the book before closing it and standing up.

the only thing differently you did from your father was that you kept all of your clothes as clean as possible. you even did his laundry sometimes. you didn't blame him though, he was a busy man. you were glad you could help in some way.

you picked a blue flannel, rib-knit tank top, and jeans.

just as you finished changing your clothes, you heard a knock at your door.

"come in." you replied monotonously.

enid opened the door, raising her eyebrow with a slight chuckle as she looked at you. "you're already ready?"

"mhm."

"did you even sleep last night?" she walked over to your bed and sat to your side.

"no. i was reading." you looked at her. your expression and voice was always quite flat, but enid never cared. she knew it was just who you are, and she'd never change a thing about you.

"of course." she nodded in response, looking at the book that laid behind the two of you. "you are your fathers daughter."

"what's that supposed to mean?"

"oh, nothing bad." she nudged you in the shoulder. "you're just quiet and a night owl. just like daryl."

"yeah." you put a hand up to your shoulder, acting like it hurt with a slight smile.

"well, are you ready to head out?" enid jumped off the bed and picked her bag back up.

you nodded, standing up with her.

...

you've been driving for a little while now. like i said, the place your guys' run was located was a little ways away from alexandria.

but, you guys made it.

you parked on the side of the road and stepped out, grabbing your bag as well as holstering your gun.

you looked over to your side at enid as she stepped out of the car. you walked a bit further forward, scoping out the area.

"does it look clear so far?" enid sneaks up behind you, her iconic smile still plastered on her face.

"so far. i don't hear anything right now, but we still have quite a bit of area to look over."

she nods, stepping directly to your side. "i'm sure this run will be easy. we've never had much trouble over here." enid continues, her voice almost sounding as if she's trying to comfort you?

you shrug. "mhm."

the two of you walked throughout the forest, no signs of any walkers.

"why'd they have us go out here if theres nothing?" enid looked around, her knife in hand despite her firmly believing she wouldn't need to use it today.

"you're jinxing us."

"you believe in jinxes?" she chuckled, her mouth slightly curving up.

you look away, a bit embarrassed. you shrug your shoulders again in response.

as you step forward, you hear a crack from the woods that you guys had yet to check.

"yes, i do."

you pull your gun out and begin stepping into the woods with enid following behind you.

there was a hill at the edge of the woods with a couple of trees surrounding it. you could barely see where it ended.

you turned around at the sound of groans, and spotted quite a bit of walkers in the distance heading right your way.

but before you could think, the edge of the hill cracked beneath your feet.

"oh shit!" you screamed as you fell. enid instinctively reaches out and grabs your hand. you hit your nose on the hill as you swing down, causing it to bleed.

it was at least a 20 foot drop. you looked down as enid struggled to try and get you up.

"oh f- hold on! it'll be okay." enid tried to comfort despite her freaking out along with you. she moves her other hand to try and pull you up.

"fuck, fuck!" you panicked, the taste of iron entering your mouth as you tried reaching your other arm up to help. you helped her pull yourself up and you fell onto the ground.

"come on! we have to go!"

enid holds your hand, intertwining it with hers, to lift you up. you both begin running through the forest and past the walkers that were starting to surround the two of you, adrenaline rushing throughout both your veins.

you guys arrive back at the car, throwing yourselves into the seats and catching your breath.

without thinking, you start speaking through your breaths.

"oh man, i thought.. i thought i was going to die... i thought i was going to die, and i didn't even tell you how i love you, enid. i really love you, i-i'm sorry."

enids eyes widen, her hands still placed on her chest catching her breath as she stares at you with a reddened face.

after a moment of silence, you speak up again.

"...why are you quiet?"

"that's probably the most i've ever heard you talk."

enids expression changed into a large grin. she leans forward and pulls a rag out of her backpack. "and you didn't even care about the fact that your nose is still bleeding."

you stay sitting there as she cups your cheek, putting the rag up to your face.

she didn't respond to what you said.

did she feel the same? or did you just make a fool out of yourself?

as your nose stops bleeding, she sets it down and looks at you with a smile.

"i love you too, by the way."

before you could react, she leans forward and kisses you.

your body froze as you processed what was happening, but you finally got the courage and moved your hands up to her cheeks as you returned the kiss.

you could feel her smile under the kiss the moment your hands touched her face.

you were sure she could tell how anxious you were. that she could tell that there were butterflies in your stomach and a knot in your chest, despite the kiss being soft and delicate.

she pulled away, her mouth still curved into a smile.

you looked back at her in shock, taking in all of her features before she broke the silence.

"you're extremely red."

you choked on air as her words snapped you back to reality. "oh, shut up."

"i'm serious! you look like a cherry." she giggled, moving your hair behind your ear.

you rolled your eyes, unsuccessfully pushing away a smile. "come on..."

"wanna do it again?" she tilted her head, her hands moving down to your shoulders.

despite what seemed like a protest previously, you nodded vigorously.

she laughed and leaned in once again.

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[android-and-ale]

2024 Spirk Fic Year In Review

After a five year dry spell, I finally started writing again in late 2023. Creating fanfic has been a shock and a joy to me this year. It's incredible going into 2025 once more feeling confident in my ability to assemble words into sentences.

This year I added another 50K words to One Daily Shoulder Pat, posted 12 short stories (complete fics under 10K words), wrote my first Spirk poem, and created some very special pasta art.

It's interesting to look back and see trends in my own work. This has been a year of ridiculous Vulcan names, bemusingly wholesome dirty talk, and flipping the script on reliable tropes.

Here's a list of links to all of it. If you're following me for One Daily Shoulder Pat, I humbly invite you to take a peek at some of my short work to hold you over while waiting for new chapters.

FANFIC

Not in Front of the Klingons rated E, 6766 words

Old Married Spirk completely destroy a hotel room with middle aged sexual shenanigans. There are also Romulans and one very disgruntled Starfleet Admiral.

T'Ruth and Consequences rated T, 2354 words (no Spirk)

The bored teenage daughters of a Vulcan and Romulan diplomat decide to swap clothes for the night.

External Existence rated E, 2457 words

There are a lot of stories about Jim freaking out when he sees Spock's alien junk for the first time. In this fic, it's Spock's turn to be shocked by what Jim's packing.

Discounts at Starbase One rated M, 3654 words

My most popular fic this year! Y'all really like my zany take on an accidental bonding story!

And Filled With Tomorrows rated E, 5886 words (not fluff)

My "City on the Edge of Forever" fic won a silver at this year's Philon awards. It's a soft, gentle story in a cold, hard world. Plus, there's a bonus scavenger hunt for classic book titles embeded into the text!

The Herald of Surprise rated M, 5165 Words

This sequel to Replicator Roulette is full of S'chnanigans. Spock sends Michael Burnam a pic of her Spencer's Gift Troll level holiday present in action, setting off a sibling drama spiral.

Featuring art by @celestialvoyeur!

Lie Back and Think of Vulcan rated E, 8455 words

Part 3 of the "Panic at the Disco" fics. Fluffy relationship shenanigans ensue as Kirk visits Spock on the Enterprise. Reading the earlier ones adds some backstory, but this can be enjoyed entirely on its own.

Featuring art by @celestialvoyeur!

Formerly Pinky's Pleasure Planet rated T, 9956 words

Pre-Relationship Jim and Spock, two men unable to enjoy shore leave at the best of times, face off on a relaxing pleasure planet in an attempt to solve a mystery first. Meanwhile their respective crews are there for the cheap drinks and beach games.

Featuring art by @justveeing!

Sulu's Secret Stash rated T, 3547 words

With only three days left before a dreaded shipwide inspection by an admiral with a grudge, Kirk and Spock must face the ire of the crew in order to rid the Enterprise of its most popular contraband.

Space Sirens rated E, 5683 words

Kirk plays Odysseus among the Sirens in my Aliens Made Them Do It fic.

The Admiral's Toaster rated T, 6839 words

Instead of taking disabled Pike to Talos, they take him to Omicron Ceti III - better known as the Pollen Planet.

Featuring art by George Henry!

Illogical Consequences rated T, 2624 words

An illicit tabloid recording of Jim and Spock alone on shore leave lands them in front of Starfleet Command.

ART

Imagine the Pastabilities

12 types of pasta 2 iconic Space Husbands 1 K/S Advent prompt

POETRY

Numerological Fallacy

While Jim sleeps, Spock ponders what their future together will mean

[acute-crashout-jeyuso]

Sacrifices (BTR Series Book 2 of 3) a Jhea Fanfic.

Chapter 34: Wrestlemania..

As Rhea walked into their bedroom, she paused in the doorway, smiling at the sight of Jey sitting on the bed with the video camera in his hands. The little red recording light blinked, letting her know he was in the middle of filming.

He turned the lens toward her and grinned. “And there is your mom, Jeyson. Look at how beautiful she is.”

Rhea let out a soft giggle, brushing her hair behind her ear. “Are you still recording for our son?”

Jey nodded, his expression softening. “Of course. I was just about to tell him how we fell in love.”

Rhea stepped further into the room, her eyes glancing between Jey and the camera. She sat beside him on the bed, leaning into the frame. “I’ll tell you, Jeyson,” she said, her voice light but sincere as she looked into the camera. “It was the most unconventional way to fall in love, but…”

Her voice trailed off as she turned her gaze to Jey, a soft smile tugging at her lips. “I would never trade it for the world.”

Jey set the camera down on the nightstand, its red light still glowing, and turned to her. “It wasn’t just unconventional. It was messy, chaotic, and everything in between,” he said, taking her hand in his. “But it brought me you, and now it’s brought us him.”

Rhea squeezed his hand, feeling the warmth of his palm against hers. “And that’s all that matters.”

Jey leaned closer, pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead. “He’s gonna know, Rhea. He’s gonna know how much we fought to get here. And how much we already love him.”

Rhea’s eyes glistened as she whispered, “He’s gonna know he’s our everything.”

The two sat there for a moment in silence, their hands intertwined, the glow of the camera light capturing a memory that Jeyson would one day watch—a moment that showed just how deeply his parents loved him and each other.

Smiling, Jey reached over and adjusted the camera, grinning as he spoke. “You wanna see how small you are right now, Jeyson?” He panned the lens toward Rhea’s belly, zooming in on her 19-week pregnant bump.

Rhea placed her hand protectively over her belly and chuckled. “You’re the size of a mango right now.”

Jey tilted the camera slightly, giving her a playful smirk. “Two mangos, babe, because you’re getting bigger.”

Rhea playfully swatted at him. “Don’t be mean.”

Jey laughed and leaned closer, gently rubbing her belly. “That just means he’s gonna be big and strong.”

Rhea raised an eyebrow and smirked. “Just like his old man?”

Jey shook his head with a grin, looking directly into the camera. “Nope. He’s gonna be big and strong, just like my dad. Your grandpa.”

Rhea joined in, her voice teasing as she addressed the camera. “Which means if you start wrestling someday, don’t do the stink face like Grandpa Solofa.”

Jey burst out laughing, pulling the camera back up to capture both of them. “She’s got jokes, huh? But for real, Jeyson, your grandpa is a legend. And if you do wrestle one day, you’ll have the whole family behind you. Just don’t let your mom teach you her headbutts—those things are dangerous.”

Rhea gasped dramatically, nudging him. “Don’t listen to your dad, baby. Headbutts are the secret weapon.”

They both laughed, the playful banter filling the room as Jey turned the camera off, but not before whispering, “We love you, little man.”

Rhea and Jey both climbed into bed, the exhaustion of the day settling in as they pulled the covers over themselves. Jey leaned over and pressed a soft kiss to her lips, a gesture filled not with passion but something deeper—love, unwavering and powerful.

Rhea looked at him, her eyes shimmering with emotion in the dim light of their room. She reached out to trace her fingers along his jawline and whispered, “I would never trade you for anything else.”

Jey tilted his head, his brow furrowing slightly as he gazed at her. “Babe…” he started, but she quickly cut him off.

“No, I mean it,” Rhea said firmly, her voice trembling with sincerity. “Despite our bumpy beginning… despite how short our time together has been… I love you so much, Joshua. I can’t picture my life without you. You make me feel so whole, like every broken piece of me finally fits.”

Jey’s hand found hers under the blanket, their fingers intertwining. He stayed quiet, letting her words wash over him, the weight of her vulnerability settling in his chest.

“And I just…” Rhea continued, her voice cracking slightly, “I just don’t ever want to wake up one day and hear you say you don’t love me anymore. Because that will kill me, Jey. I don’t think I could survive that.”

Jey immediately pulled her closer, wrapping his arms around her protectively. “Babe,” he said softly, his voice steady and reassuring. “That’s never gonna happen. You hear me? Never.”

Rhea pressed her forehead against his, their breaths mingling. “Promise me, Joshua. Promise me you’ll always love me.”

Jey cupped her face with both hands, his thumbs brushing away the tears that had started to roll down her cheeks. “Rhea, I love you more than I’ve ever loved anything in my life. You’re it for me. There’s no one else, no other life I want but this one—right here, with you, with our son, with our crazy family. I promise you, babe. I will always love you.”

Rhea sniffled and let out a soft laugh. “You better, or I’m kicking your ass.”

Jey chuckled and kissed her again, this time lingering just a little longer. “That I know for sure...”

“So weird for you to admit defeat so quickly,” Rhea teased, a small smile breaking through her tears.

He held her close as they settled back into the pillows, the room quiet except for the steady sound of their breathing. “You’re stuck with me, Rhea. Forever,” Jey whispered as she rested her head on his chest.

“Good,” Rhea murmured, her voice soft and content. “Because I’m not going anywhere either.”

—

April 18th, 2025 – 11:21 PM

The fountains of Bellagio danced under the night sky, lights reflecting on the water in mesmerizing patterns as the wedding party gathered near, laughing and chattering excitedly. The night was electric, filled with the joy of Jey and Rhea’s union, but everyone’s attention still lingered on the earlier excitement—Trinity going into premature labor during the Hall of Fame ceremony.

Jey stood at the center of the group, holding up his phone to show the latest pictures Jon had sent from the hospital. “Look at this,” he said, grinning ear to ear. “Trin and Jon with the twins. They’re perfect, man.”

Joe peered over his shoulder, grinning as he clapped Jey on the back. “That’s what I’m talking about! Two more Fatus in the world. Let’s celebrate! I got us a penthouse suite for the weekend.”

Damian raised his drink high, the ice clinking in his glass. “Now that’s what I’m talking about. Let’s get this party started!”

The wedding party cheered in agreement. Joe and Galina led the way toward the Bellagio, followed by Damian and Kayden, Liv and Dom, Finn, JD, Carlito, Joseph and Almia, Cody and Brandi, and even Raquel, who had joined the festivities later in the evening as Carlito’s unofficial date.

But as everyone moved toward the Bellagio’s entrance, Rhea stayed back, her eyes glued to the fountain. She stood there, captivated by the beauty of the water’s rhythmic dance, the world around her fading into the background.

Jey, halfway to the entrance, turned to look for her and noticed her standing by the water’s edge, lost in thought. He shook his head with a small smile and made his way back to her.

“Babe,” he said softly, slipping his hand into hers.

She turned to him, her eyes glowing under the soft lights of the fountain. “I just needed a moment,” she said. “It’s all so overwhelming. The wedding, the twins being born, the Hall of Fame… It’s like a dream, you know?”

Jey nodded, his thumb gently stroking the back of her hand. “I get it. It’s a lot. But this?” He gestured to the fountain and the lights. “None of this matters as much as us. Come on, Mrs. Fatu. Let’s go make the most of our wedding night.”

Rhea smiled at the sound of her new title—Mrs. Fatu. It sent a shiver of excitement through her. She took a deep breath, letting the moment settle in her chest, then nodded. “Okay, let’s go.”

Jey pulled her close, stealing a quick kiss before leading her toward the Bellagio, their hands entwined. The laughter from the wedding party grew louder as they approached the elevator, where their friends were already piling in, ready to continue the night’s celebration.

But for Jey and Rhea, the real celebration was just beginning.

As Jey and Rhea stepped out of the elevator and made their way toward the penthouse suite, Rhea suddenly froze, her hand instinctively moving to her stomach. A strong kick had startled her, and she looked down, smiling softly.

“Simmer down, Jeyson,” she murmured, stroking her belly.

Jey, noticing her pause, chuckled. “Baby boy’s kicking, huh?”

Rhea nodded, grabbing his hand and guiding it to the spot where she’d felt the movement. Jey grinned as he felt a little thump beneath his palm. “That’s a superkick!” he said with pride, his laughter filling the quiet hallway.

Rhea laughed along, the moment lightening her mood as the elevator doors opened behind them. Together, they walked hand in hand toward the suite, where the sounds of celebration spilled into the hallway.

When they pushed open the doors, they were greeted by a large gold-and-white banner that read: Mr. & Mrs. Fatu EST. 2025. The room was decorated with fairy lights, balloons, and rose petals scattered across the floor and tables.

Galina rushed forward, embracing Rhea with excitement. “Do you love it?” she asked, her eyes sparkling with anticipation.

“It’s so pretty!” Rhea replied, her smile wide as she looked around at the thoughtful decor.

Liv appeared next, popping open a chilled bottle of sparkling apple juice. “For you and me,” she said with a wink, pouring two glasses and handing one to Rhea.

Almia and Kayden weren’t far behind, pouring glasses of champagne for the rest of the group. The room began to fill with laughter, toasts, and the soft clinking of glasses as everyone settled in.

Dominik, standing near the sound system, turned the music down, and all eyes shifted to Joe as he stepped forward. He raised his glass, a confident smile on his face.

“I just want to say something very brief,” Joe began, his voice carrying the room’s attention. “Rhea… welcome to the Anoa’i/Fatu family. You’ve been a part of us for a while now, but tonight, it’s official. You’re one of us. Through thick and thin, good and bad—this family stands together, no matter what.”

The room erupted into cheers and applause. Rhea blinked back tears, touched by Joe’s sincerity. She glanced at Jey, who wrapped an arm around her shoulders and kissed her temple.

“Thank you, Joe,” Rhea said, her voice steady but filled with emotion. “It means everything to me to be a part of this family. I’ve never felt so accepted and loved.”

Joe smiled warmly. “We’re lucky to have you. And now…” he raised his glass higher, “to the newlyweds! Mr. and Mrs. Fatu!”

Everyone raised their glasses in unison, shouting, “To the Fatus!” before taking sips of their drinks.

Jey leaned down, his lips brushing against Rhea’s ear. “Told you we’d make the most of our wedding night.”

Rhea laughed softly, her free hand resting on her belly as Jeyson gave another small kick. This was exactly where she was meant to be—surrounded by love, family, and the man who made her feel whole.

April 19th, 2025 12:11 AM

As the pulsating beats of “Goosebumps” by Travis Scott filled the room, Liv held the video camera with a mischievous grin. She panned it across the suite, landing on Damian and Finn, who were already in character, preparing to entertain.

Damian leaned forward, pointing a finger at the camera. “Alright, little man, let me introduce myself. I didn’t get to speak to you too much at the baby shower, but I’m one of your unofficial uncles. That’s right, Uncle Damian!”

Finn, standing beside him, nodded with mock seriousness. “And I’m your other unofficial uncle, mate. Uncle Finn. You’ve got the best.”

Damian smirked, gesturing dramatically between the two of them. “Now, if you’re wondering why we have two completely different accents, it’s because your mom—your amazing mom—works with the best people from all over the world.”

Finn gave Damian a side-eye. “Will you stop it, lad? You’re embarrassing us.”

Damian grinned at the camera. “Nah, I’m educating Jeyson.”

Finn shook his head, taking a more serious tone as he leaned closer to the lens. “No, but seriously, mate—if you ever decide to wrestle one day, come to us first. Don’t go to your father.”

Jey’s voice boomed across the room from the other side. “I HEARD THAT!”

The group burst into laughter, Finn cracking up as he threw his hands up. “What? I’m just saying!” He turned back to the camera. “Look, Jeyson, your uncles here know what’s up. I’m gonna teach you the Coup de Grâce before I let these other clowns teach you a spear, mate.”

Damian rolled his eyes dramatically. “Coup de Grâce? Please. Listen, Jeyson, what your other unofficial uncle is trying to say is that you’ll learn some proper finishers from me first. Like the Chokeslam from Hell!”

Finn gave Damian a look. “Oh, real original, big guy.”

Damian leaned into the camera with a mock sinister expression. “Don’t listen to him, Jeyson. Uncle Damian’s got you covered. I’ll show you what real power looks like.”

The camera shook slightly as Liv laughed behind it, capturing the banter perfectly.

Jey walked into the frame, wrapping an arm around Rhea’s shoulders. “Alright, alright, that’s enough, you two,” he said, pointing a playful finger at Damian and Finn. “Don’t be trying to steal my son from me. Jeyson’s gonna learn all his moves from his dad first. Right, babe?”

Rhea chuckled, glancing at the camera. “Jeyson, your dad might be a little biased, but your uncles do have a point. You’re gonna have the best of the best teaching you—if you even want to wrestle.”

Finn smirked at Jey. “Looks like Mom’s already on our side, mate.”

The room erupted in laughter again as Liv zoomed in on Rhea’s belly. “And there you have it, baby Jeyson—your family is already arguing over who gets to train you, and you’re not even born yet!”

Just then, Kayden approached the camera with a grin on her face, the laughter and chatter of the party still filling the background. She adjusted the lens, her voice playful as she spoke to the unborn baby. “Alright, Jeyson, let me get this. I’m one of your unofficial aunties, and I’m ready to make this video legendary!”

Liv popped her head into the frame, her face lighting up. “And I’m your unofficial auntie too, don’t forget about me!” she added with a wink, before leaning in closer to the camera.

Kayden laughed, rolling her eyes. “Oh, we can’t forget about Aunt Liv. So, Jeyson, when your mom told us she was pregnant with you, we were all so excited. We were like, ‘Yes, finally!’” She smiled as she reminisced. “It was like the moment we’ve all been waiting for.”

Liv nodded enthusiastically, her voice filled with affection. “Exactly! We knew your mom was destined to be a mom. But not just any mom—your mom. We knew it from the moment she shared the news with us. And now, look at her—she’s going to be the best mom ever.”

The two girls exchanged a fond look before setting the camera down on a nearby table, moving away from the bustle of the conversation happening around them. Their voices softened as they spoke directly to the camera.

Liv looked at the lens, speaking with the warmth only a best friend could show. “So, Jeyson, I’ve got to add something important to this video. And I’m giving you proof right here, right now,” she said, her tone teasing. “Your mom? She has a thing for dancing with your dad.”

Kayden smiled and leaned closer to the camera. “Oh, and it’s not just any dancing. It’s like, whenever they dance together, the entire room stops. It’s like magic, Jeyson. They are so in love, it’s like you can feel it in the air.”

Liv grinned as she looked over at Kayden, her eyes sparkling with excitement. “And that’s why you need to hurry up and get out here, so you can see what we’re talking about. Trust me, it’s a sight to behold. You don’t want to miss it.”

Kayden nodded in agreement, her voice softening slightly. “We can’t wait to meet you, little one. Your mom and dad are incredible together, and we can’t wait for you to experience that bond up close and personal.”

Just then, the unmistakable beat of Un X100to by Grupo Frontera featuring Bad Bunny began to fill the air. Kayden’s eyes lit up. “Ah, perfect timing, Jeyson! This right here is what I’m talking about. Your unofficial uncles—Dominik and Damian—taught your mom the beauty of Spanish music. And now? She’s trying to teach your dad!” She laughed, her voice filled with excitement as she adjusted the camera to capture the scene unfolding.

Rhea, with a smile on her face, was trying her best to teach Jey some smooth steps to the song, mimicking the moves she had learned from Raquel and Carlito. Jey, on the other hand, was struggling a bit but clearly enjoying himself as he tried to match his wife’s rhythm. He stumbled over his own feet, but Rhea’s infectious laughter made him laugh along with her. The energy between them was undeniable—playful, loving, and filled with joy.

Dominik, always eager to jump in, leaned into the frame, flashing his trademark smirk. “Which brings me to another thing, Jeyson,” he said, teasingly. “When you come out, we’re going to make sure you know the beauty of Spanish music. No more of that rap stuff—your unofficial uncles are gonna teach you the good stuff.”

Joseph, ever the challenger, leaned into the camera with a mischievous grin. “Rap is better than Spanish music, don’t let the mullet fool you, Jeyson!” he said, playfully nudging Dominik with his elbow. “We’ll see what your dad has to say about that!”

Dominik, who was enjoying the friendly banter, laughed loudly. “Everyone loves the mullet, though. Trust me.” He flipped his hair dramatically for emphasis.

Joe, not one to back down, raised his voice from the other side of the room. “Not me!” he yelled, causing everyone to burst into laughter.

The entire group erupted into playful teasing and laughter, as the camera continued to capture the fun chaos of the evening. With each passing moment, the room felt more like a family reunion, the love and connection between everyone filling the air. Everyone was eager to share in the joy of the moment, from teaching the baby about music to showering Rhea and Jey with support. The night was filled with laughter, love, and memories that would last a lifetime.

As the conversation continued, Kayden looked at the camera and smiled softly. “Jeyson, you’re gonna have so much love in your life. You’re surrounded by so many people who can’t wait to see you. And trust me, we’re all here for you, no matter what. Your mom and dad? They’re going to be amazing parents. And we’re going to be here, every step of the way, cheering you on.”

Liv nodded, her expression filled with affection. “We’re all so excited for you, little one. You’ve already got so much love surrounding you.”

With that, the two girls shared a look, their hearts full of anticipation for the future as they set the camera down and rejoined the rest of the celebration, ready to continue the night filled with music, laughter, and love.

—

April 19th, 2025 9:11 AM

The sound of sneakers squeaking on the polished floor echoed on the ramp as Jey moved through his entrance routine. He was in his element, his focus sharp as he rehearsed his moves, practicing every step of the signature swagger that made his entrance iconic. Each movement was deliberate, perfectly timed, and filled with the same energy that would electrify the crowd.

Hunter stood off to the side, nodding approvingly as he observed Jey’s performance. Bruce Prichard, clipboard in hand, was taking notes on the lighting setup. They were discussing the technical side of the entrance, adjusting the light cues to make sure everything synced perfectly with Jey’s movements.

“I think we can push the lights just a little brighter on the first jump,” Bruce said, adjusting his glasses. “Make sure they catch the energy of the moment.”

Hunter crossed his arms, watching Jey intently as he moved. “Agreed. We want that first step to pop—let the crowd feel it from the moment he hits the ramp.”

Rhea, standing nearby with her arms folded, smiled softly at the sight of her partner in action. She had always admired Jey’s presence in the ring, and watching him rehearse reminded her of how much he had grown as a performer. She was dressed casually in Jey’s YEET hoodie and biker shorts, her blue crocs adding a touch of comfort to her look. The palm tree croc charms swayed slightly with each step she took.

Jeyce and Jaciyah, stood beside her, also dressed in Jey’s YEET merch. Jeyce, always the curious one, kept his eyes fixed on his father’s every move, while Jaciyah, ever the confident young man, rolled his eyes in mock boredom.

“You think he’s gonna nail it tonight?” Jeyce asked, his voice full of the innocent excitement that only a child could have. He shifted on his feet, clearly itching to get closer to his dad.

“Of course he is,” Rhea said, her voice calm and reassuring. She looked down at Jeyce with a soft smile. “Your dad’s the best at what he does.”

Jaciyah crossed his arms and sighed dramatically. “You two are so predictable. But yeah, I guess Dad’s always got the entrance down. It’s like he owns the ring the second he walks out.”

Jeyce laughed. “Dad’s cool.”

Rhea chuckled, ruffling Jeyce’s hair. “He’s cool, alright.”

As Jey continued rehearsing, moving fluidly through his steps, the lighting crew tested the cues. The lights flickered momentarily before turning bright white, highlighting Jey’s every move. Hunter and Bruce kept a close eye on the timing.

“We’re good for tonight, but let’s do another run-through in an hour. I want to make sure everything clicks,” Hunter said, tapping Bruce’s shoulder as they walked off to discuss the final tweaks.

Rhea watched them go, then turned her attention back to Jey, her gaze softening. She knew how important tonight was for him, especially after his time off for recovery. This was more than just a match; it was a return to form, a chance to reclaim his place in the spotlight.

Jey slowed his movements and turned to face her, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “You’re staring at me like I’m about to perform surgery or something,” he joked, his voice warm and playful.

Rhea grinned, her eyes filled with pride. “I’m just watching my husband do his thing.”

Jey looked down at his kids, who were both beaming. “You two ready for the show tonight?” he asked, his tone softening as he walked over to them.

Jaciyah shrugged. “It’s just Dad being Dad. But yeah, I’m excited.”

Jeyce nodded enthusiastically, his voice full of energy. “Yeah! I can’t wait to see you! You’re gonna look awesome!”

Rhea laughed at the way Jeyce bounced on his toes. “You heard him, Dad. Looks like you’ve got a fan club.”

Jey chuckled, ruffling his son’s hair. “It’s good to have a fan club. Makes the job a little easier.”

The rehearsal continued, with Jey refining his movements under the watchful eyes of Hunter and Bruce. Rhea stayed close to the side, watching her family. Despite the hustle and bustle of the day, there was something so grounding about moments like this—Jey, in his element, surrounded by the people who loved him most.

As the final cues were tested, Rhea’s gaze lingered on Jey. She couldn’t help but feel a rush of pride and admiration. Tonight, he would step out into the ring once more, not just as Jey Uso, but as a fighter and a family man who had fought through everything to get here. And she would be there, cheering him on, just as she always had.

She caught his eye across the room, and without a word, he gave her a small, reassuring nod. It was a simple gesture, but it meant everything.

Rhea smiled back, her heart swelling with pride. He’s got this, she thought. Tonight’s going to be incredible.

—

8:47 PM

Rhea’s heart was pounding in her chest as she walked alongside Jey, her fingers tightly wrapped around his hand. The weight of the moment felt heavy, and she could feel his nervous energy as they made their way down the narrow hallway, the sounds of the arena reverberating through the walls. The familiar backstage buzz was filled with the anticipation of WrestleMania, but Rhea couldn’t shake the nerves that had settled in her stomach. Tonight wasn’t just any night—it was Jey’s big return, and with the Men’s Money in the Bank match looming, there was no telling what would happen next.

Jey’s nerves were palpable, too. He was dressed in his black and red WrestleMania gear, the same outfit he had shown Rhea weeks ago when he’d first pulled it out of his bag, and although he was trying to keep his cool, she could tell he was feeling the pressure. Rhea squeezed his hand, trying to offer him the comfort she knew he needed.

“You got this, baby,” she murmured, glancing up at him. His jaw was tight, his eyes focused ahead, but he gave her a small, appreciative smile in return.

They continued their walk backstage, passing crew members and performers who were preparing for their own matches, the energy in the air unmistakable. As they neared the gorilla position, Rhea spotted Jeyce and Jaciyah, who were already seated in the club suites with Jey’s parents, Solofa and Talisua Fatu. They were excited and animated, watching the action unfold on the monitors in front of them, completely oblivious to the pressure that Jey was carrying on his shoulders.

“Let’s do this,” Jey said quietly, breaking the silence between them. He wiped his hand across his face, clearly trying to shake off his nerves. Rhea gave his hand a reassuring squeeze, but she could feel the tension radiating off him.

Rhea’s gaze flicked to the large screen in the arena, where RAW GM Adam Pearce was now announcing the mystery seventh contender for the Men’s Money in the Bank match. Rhea’s eyes widened as she heard the crowd erupt into cheers, the energy in the building reaching a fever pitch.

“Tonight, we have a mystery man entering the Money in the Bank match,” Adam announced. “And to introduce him… I’ll let Kendrick Lamar do the honors.”

The crowd roared with excitement as the unmistakable opening beats of Squabble Up by Kendrick Lamar filled the arena, signaling the arrival of someone the fans couldn’t wait to see. The tension backstage became electric, and Rhea could feel the anticipation building, her heart racing as the moments ticked by. She looked up at Jey, whose nervous energy had reached its peak as they drew closer to the gorilla position.

Jey glanced at Rhea, reaching for the water bottle in his hand. With a quick, nervous shake of his head, he splashed water through his hair, trying to calm himself. Rhea watched him, her chest tight with worry. She wanted so badly for him to feel at ease, to know that she believed in him more than anything.

“One minute, Jey,” Hunter’s voice called out from across the room, snapping Jey back to the reality of what was about to unfold. His face tightened in focus, but Rhea could see the tension still in his shoulders.

She moved toward him, her hand on his cheek. She could see his chest rise and fall as he took in deep, calming breaths. Rhea pressed her lips to his in a quick, soft kiss, her eyes locking with his when they pulled apart.

“Good luck,” she whispered, her voice thick with emotion. She wasn’t sure if it was the nerves or the weight of the moment, but she wanted him to know how much she believed in him, how much she loved him.

Jey’s eyes softened as he gave her a small nod, his lips curling into a tight, determined smile. “Thanks, babe,” he said, his voice low and steady despite the racing adrenaline coursing through him. “I got this.”

As the countdown clock ticked down, Rhea watched Jey take one last deep breath, and for the first time in what felt like forever, she saw the man she loved completely in the zone. He wasn’t just Jey Uso—the charismatic superstar everyone knew. Tonight, he was a man ready to reclaim his place in the spotlight.

The beat of Squabble Up hit the speakers once more, filling the arena with an electric energy as the crowd’s anticipation skyrocketed. The lights flickered and dimmed, setting the stage for the moment everyone had been waiting for. Rhea stood backstage, her breath caught in her throat as she watched the spectacle unfold. She felt the adrenaline in her veins, knowing that Jey was about to make his grand return.

“I feel good, get out my face

Look good, but she don’t got no taste

I walk in, walked out with the safe

Mando, let me know what the play

Squabble up, squabble up…”

The music cut off suddenly, and the lights in the arena dropped, plunging everything into darkness for a split second. Then, the spotlight hit the center of the stage, illuminating none other than Kendrick Lamar himself. The crowd erupted in a deafening roar, and Kendrick’s voice rang out over the speakers, “USO!!!!!!!!!!!!”

The tension was unbearable. Rhea’s heart raced as the familiar chords of Jey’s theme started playing. The crowd went wild, their cheers vibrating through the arena, building in intensity as the spotlight flicked to the entrance ramp.

Hunter, standing backstage by the monitors, nodded at Jey, signaling it was time. With a deep breath, Jey stepped into the light, his eyes scanning the crowd as the roar of the audience seemed to swallow him whole. He felt the familiar rush of adrenaline coursing through him—after five long months of being away from the ring, this was his moment.

The cheers hit him like a wave, and Jey’s heart swelled. The fans hadn’t forgotten him, and he wasn’t just coming back for the sake of it—he was coming back to reclaim his place at the top.

Jey lifted his head high, a proud grin crossing his face. The time away had been tough, but now, standing in front of thousands of fans, he felt like he was exactly where he needed to be.

He took a few steps forward, soaking in the energy, letting the crowd’s cheers fuel his fire. The familiar sounds of the crowd chanting “YEET!” echoed throughout the arena. Jey could hardly believe it—after everything that had happened, they still stood by him.

His body tensed in excitement as he sprinted down the ramp, his feet pounding against the ground with every step. The crowd’s energy surged as he reached the ring, and Jey slid under the ropes with a quick, fluid motion. He jumped to his feet, raising his arms high in the air, basking in the deafening cheers.

Rhea’s hands instinctively went to her heart, her eyes glued to Jey as she watched him come alive in the ring. She couldn’t help but smile, her face glowing with pride. After everything they’d been through, seeing him back where he belonged felt like the culmination of their journey.

Jey stood in the center of the ring, his chest heaving as he drank in the moment. The fans were chanting, and it felt like the whole arena was vibrating with his energy. It was everything he had been working toward—the return of Jey Uso, and he was going to make sure it counted.

Hunter and Bruce watched from the side, nodding approvingly at Jey’s energy and presence. “He’s back,” Bruce said with a grin, already imagining the possibilities of what was to come.

Rhea took a deep breath, smiling softly to herself as she watched him from backstage. She knew there was more to come, but for now, she was just thankful to see him back, standing tall and confident once again.

The crowd was still roaring, and Jey stood in the ring, eyes locked on the crowd. The lights flashed around him, his theme blaring, and for the first time in what felt like forever, Jey Uso was exactly where he belonged. The match was just about to start, and Jey was ready to take it all.

The match had been brutal, every second of it a fight for survival. For 53 grueling minutes, the superstars tore through ladders, steel, and one another in a desperate bid to claim the coveted Money in the Bank briefcase. The atmosphere in the arena was electric, the crowd on the edge of their seats, waiting for the moment that would solidify a new champion.

And then, it happened. Jey, already battered and bruised, found his second wind. He locked eyes with Finn Balor, who was dangling from the briefcase above, and for a moment, time seemed to slow. Rhea held her breath, watching as Jey built up his momentum. He sprinted toward the ladder, leaping with all his might, and delivered a brutal spear straight into Finn, sending both men crashing to the mat.

The crowd erupted in a deafening chant, their voices echoing throughout the arena. “YEET! YEET! YEET!”

Rhea’s heart raced as she watched Jey struggle to his feet, the pain in his body evident. But he was determined, his focus laser-sharp as he climbed the ladder once more. She could hear the commentators’ voices blaring through the speakers, hyping up the moment.

“CEMENT YOURSELF IN HISTORY!” they screamed, and Rhea couldn’t help but smile.

Jey reached the top of the ladder, his hand closing around the briefcase. The crowd’s roar grew louder as he unlatched it, pulling it free. His body slumped over the ladder in exhaustion, but the moment was his. His music blared through the speakers, the unmistakable beat of Main Event Ish shaking the arena.

The announcement came, booming over the loudspeakers. “And your 2025 Money in the Bank Winner… Main Event Jey UUSOOOOOO!”

Rhea’s eyes filled with pride and excitement, her heart swelling as she took in the moment. Jey had done it. He had just made history.

Hunter, standing by with Bruce, smiled at her. “You can go out with him now, Rhea,” he said, giving her a nod of approval.

Rhea’s face lit up in surprise. “Really?”

“Go for it,” Hunter said with a grin. “This is his moment. And it’s yours too.”

Rhea’s heart fluttered with excitement, and she took a deep breath, trying to steady herself. She was dressed in a long black cami dress that flowed effortlessly with each step she took. The crop top with Jey’s face on it paired with her signature blue Vans was a nod to her love for him. She looked every bit the proud partner she was, ready to share this victory with him.

She stepped forward, her feet slightly nervous as she made her way toward the entrance ramp. The crowd was still buzzing, their chants of “YEET!” continuing to fill the air, and Rhea couldn’t help but feel overwhelmed by the love surrounding them.

As she walked down the ramp, her eyes locked on Jey, who was still basking in the moment of victory. When he saw her, his expression softened, and his face broke into a wide grin. He moved toward her, meeting her halfway, and without hesitation, he pulled her into his arms.

The kiss was electric—fueled by the raw emotion of the moment. The crowd roared in approval, their cheers echoing throughout the arena as Jey and Rhea stood together, united in their triumph. It was a moment of pure connection, and Rhea could feel the weight of it all.

Jey pulled back slightly, looking at her with a mixture of love and exhaustion in his eyes. “We did it,” he whispered, breathless. “You were with me the whole way.”

Rhea smiled, her hand gently resting on his cheek. “I love you Joshua.”

“I love you too, Demi.”

The moment felt like a dream—everything they had worked for, everything they had sacrificed, had led to this. The crowd continued to chant, and the two stood there together, the energy between them undeniable.

Jey raised the Money in the Bank briefcase high above his head, and the crowd’s cheers reached a fever pitch. Rhea held his hand tightly, her smile never fading as they celebrated his victory—together.

This was just the beginning.