#i need my new glasses bestie i am Blind

[indecisive-dizzy]

Hi bestie :D

How have you been? I hope you have a good day today! :]

hey bestie! thank u so much 🥺, I'll try to have a good day haha !

I'll get to ur other ask in a bit I promise I will answer it Today!

mental health has just been all over the place,, like my whole week was. I've been ✨resting✨

[illicitlimerence-writes]

goodnight | c. leclerc

pairing: charles leclerc x singlemom!reader word count: 4.4k words request: yes/no, by @tamaraudvardy: "hii. can i request one where the reader has a 2yrs old baby boy from a prev relationship and they go on family skii vacation with charles and his fam and just a cute domestic charles like him playing with the child in the snow and pascale admiring how her son is so easily adapting to daddy role?🥺😍" when i tell you that this fic came at the perfect time... thank you for sending this!<;3 prompt: letter z: zzz. from this christmas alphabet prompt list. warnings: language, pregnancy, fluff, daddy!charles, uncle!pierre. a/n: we've reached the end!!!! what was supposed to be the last fic of the year has turned into the first fic of the year, and i'm okay with that. happy new year, besties. i love you all.

my masterlist / christmas alphabet masterlist

“okay, i want you to know that this is very new to me, i don’t usually do this type of thing,” you said pointing back and forth between you and the young man in front of you.

“yeah, i don’t either, but pierre spoke very highly of you, so i just thought, why not?” he replied, giving you a smile, and it helped calm your nerves.

“same, every time you two hung out together he’d send me pictures of the two of you,” you chuckled, charles nodded.

“he sent me pictures of you as well!” his eyes widened as he laughed, “if i didn’t know any better i would’ve thought you two were the ones dating,”

“god no. i mean, he’s one of my closest friends but…” you shivered, “even for me he’s a little too much,”

this was your first blind date ever. your friend pierre had set you up with one of his friends from work, ferrari driver charles leclerc. from what pierre had told you about him, you knew that charles came from a good family, he seemed respectful and down to earth.

the restaurant you were at was a bit too fancy for your liking, but your undivided attention was on charles. he spoke so passionately about his job, sometimes struggling to find the right word to explain some new concept so you could understand it more easily.

“i am so sorry, i just realized i’ve been talking about myself nonstop all night. please, tell me about you,” he drank from his glass of wine as you smiled at him.

“don’t worry, it’s nice hearing you talk so passionately about something. as for me, i-” the sound of your phone interrupted you. this was the special ringtone you’d set up for sydney, your nanny, “i’m so sorry, i need to take this,” you apologized as you stood up, walking to a quiet corner of the restaurant.

“sydney?” you answered the call.

“mommy!” you heard you little boy’s loud squeal.

“theo, what are you doing up at this hour?”

“you not said g’night!” he stumbled on his words. your little man had just turned two about three weeks ago and was starting to say complete sentences.

“you didn’t say goodnight,” you corrected him, nodding to yourself as you heard him repeat it. “good job, baby. now, are you in bed? ready to go to sleep?”

“yes, mommy!” he yelled, and you had to move your phone away from your ear as you laughed.

“okay, let’s do it. goodnight, blankie,” you heard him say the words at the same time as you, “goodnight, stars. goodnight, moon. goodnight, sydney. goodnight, mommy. goodnight, theo,” you finished your nightly ritual.

“love mommy!” he said, and you nearly felt your eyes watering. it was still hard to comprehend it, you made that little boy. you poured blood, sweat and tears into bringing that little soul to life.

“i love you, too, theo. now, go to sleep, okay?” you cooed.

“okay, mommy,” he yawned.

“night, baby,” you whispered, letting them hang up first. you smiled, clutching the phone in your hand, turning around. your eyes widened as you saw charles standing behind you. “how much of that did you hear?” you sighed. this wasn’t how you’d been planning to tell him, but…

“just you saying goodbye,” he said, giving you a tight-lipped smile.

“okay, i guess we’re rushing things now. come on, let’s sit and i’ll tell you what that was all about,”

after you sat down you explained that you had a little two-year-old from a previous relationship, the father had never wanted to be part of theo’s life, which made charles’ blood boil.

“i’m surprised pierre didn’t mention him. he loves being theo’s uncle.” you smiled, charles’ eyes widened in surprise.

“that’s your theo?” he asked, you frowned at the question. “sorry, it’s just, i… i facetimed him a few weeks ago, and he was babysitting a boy, (y/h/c) hair, (y/e/c) eyes.” you nodded, that seemed like your theo. “he’s such a great little guy! from what i heard he’s the only one able to keep pierre on his toes,”

“that he is, that’s my little boy,” you raised your glass, as if you were toasting in his honor, before taking a small sip.

conversation flowed easily, you were surprised that he didn’t back away instantly after finding out you had a child.

“i had a really nice night,” he said as he walked you to your car. you nodded, smiling at him.

“me too. this went better than i expected,” you confessed, noticing the way charles’ shoulders relaxed.

“is it… is it too soon to ask when i can see you again?” he took a step close to you.

“it is, but, i liked you, so…” you half smiled, shrugging a shoulder. “i think i can let it slide this once,” you chuckled.

it took a few months for you to be one hundred percent sure that theo was ready to meet charles. you’d told your little man about him, saying that he was your friend and that he wanted to meet him.

he was a little apprehensive at first, but you explained you’d be going to the park and meet him and pierre there. that did the trick.

“where uncle p?” theo asked as you walked to the spot you’d agreed, his small hand wrapped around your index finger.

“he’s waiting for us, he and charles are already there, can you see them?” you pointed to where the two friends were standing.

“i see! mommy i see uncle p!” he tightened his hold on you, running to the two drivers. “uncle p!” theo yelled, letting go of you when you were only a few meters away.

“there’s my little guy!” pierre lifted the little boy in his arms. “how’ve you been, theo?”

“good! i saw you on tv!” he smiled. “i saw you too! red car!” he pointed at charles, who had a soft smile on his face. both drivers had just come back from a race the previous weekend. “down, uncle p, please,” theo asked and pierre put him down.

“did you like the race, theo?” charles asked, crouching in front of him. your heart was beating fast inside your chest. you’d really grown to like charles profoundly over the past months, and you both could see a future together.

“yeah! they go fast,” theo put his arms in front of him, as if he were holding a steering wheel, and started running around as he imitated the cars he heard on tv. you all laughed, and you watched as the three of them started talking about the cars, about racing, about the possibility that you and theo could join them for a grand prix weekend.

after about thirty minutes of the four of you playing in the park, it was pierre’s time to leave. you hugged the frenchman and thanked him for helping theo open up to charles. after two more hours of playing in the park, theo started feeling antsy, and charles noticed right away.

"i don't know about you guys, but i'm feeling a little hungry. would anyone like to join me for some pizza and spaghetti?" he remembered theo's favorite food. you smiled as you watched theo's eyes widen in surprise, nodding his head vigorously. now, you sat with theo in front of you, charles to your side as you all waited for your food to arrive. the two of them were talking about everything their minds could think of, sometimes leaving you out of the conversation for a few minutes. you didn’t mind, it was great knowing that theo felt at ease with charles after only knowing him for a few hours.

“mommy, mommy!” theo called for you, making you snap out of your thoughts, you looked at him, smiling instantly.

“yes, baby?” you asked.

“can cha play with me tonight? i wan’ show him my toys!” theo said before taking a sip of his lemonade. your eyes darted from your little boy, to charles, who placed a hand on your thigh, his action hidden by the table.

“w-well… we have to ask him, theo.” you panicked.

“cha, play with me?” theo asked, looking directly at charles, raising his head a little as he stuck his bottom lip out.

“if-if mommy says it’s okay,” you placed your hand on top of his, and he flipped it over so your palms were pressed against each other, lacing your fingers together.

“mommy, pleeeaseee?” theo begged, and it took everything in you not to melt instantly.

“okay, only for a little bit, though.”

-

“this my room!” theo stood on his tiptoes to turn on the light, his other hand clutching charles’.

charles’ eyes widened at the amount of red bull and alpha tauri merch that hung on the walls. posters, caps, everything.

“i think i might get fired if anyone sees me in here,” charles mumbled as theo ran around grabbing whatever he wanted to show charles.

the three of you were sitting on the floor, playing with the new paw patrol toy you got him a few weeks ago. at some point during the night, theo spilled juice over his clothes and you changed him into his favorite pjs, which he proudly showed to charles, they were a kid-size replica of a f1 race suit. after hours of playing, theo yawned, rubbing his eyes as he leaned to his right, resting against charles’ arm.

“‘m tired,” theo whispered between yawns as charles looked at you with wide eyes.

“do you want me to tuck you in?” you asked, leaning in, your fingers rubbing against his cheek and moving his hair away from his face. he visibly relaxed under your touch, his small hands wrapping around charles’ arm.

“cha,” he said.

“yes, theo?” charles butted in as he heard his new nickname.

“cha tucks me in,” theo demanded, eyes shut as he nuzzled against the driver’s arm. you both looked at each other, a huge grin on charles’ face. he raised his eyebrows, asking for permission. shyly, you nodded.

it was like a switch had been flipped inside charles, he instantly knew what to do. holding theo close to his chest as he stood up. whispering soft words in the little boy’s ear as he walked him to his bed. once theo’s head was resting against the pillows of his car-themed bed, he made grabby hands, frowning.

charles turned to you, and you handed him theo’s blanket. charles wrapped it around theo’s frame, pulling the rest of the covers up as well.

“g’night,” theo whimpered. you’d thought he’d already fallen asleep, but he still had enough energy to say goodnight.

“do you want to teach charles how to say goodnight?” you asked, kneeling next to theo as charles sat on the bed. theo nodded, leaning on his side, slightly opening one eye.

“say as me,” theo said, you chuckled, saying the sentence correctly, “repeat after me,”

“okay,” charles smiled.

“goodnight, blankie. goodnight, stars. goodnight, moon. goodnight, mommy. goodnight, theo. goodnight, cha.” charles repeated the words, and once they finished, your little boy yawned, falling asleep instantly.

after staring at theo for a few minutes, making sure he was fast asleep, charles helped you up, holding your hand as you left the room. as soon as the door was shut, you felt his hands on your face, his lips against yours in a fiery kiss.

“i want in. i’m all in. i want this, every day, for the rest of my life.”

-

and now, six months later, your little family arrived at the chalet you rented for the holidays and for theo's birthday. in just two days your baby boy was turning three.

"this is so cool!" you smiled as you heard theo's high-pitched voice. "i want to play in the snow!” he yelled.

“in a minute, champ. first we have to unload everything from the car and bring it inside, can you help me with that?” charles asked, and theo nodded from his spot in the backseat.

“yeah, i’m strong,” he said as he flexed his muscles, making you laugh.

after you settled in and unpacked everything, theo dragged you and charles out of the chalet and into the snow. he fell dramatically, spreading his arms and legs, making a snow angel.

“cha! help me up!” theo raised his arms, looking at charles. even though his speech was a little better, he still held on to the nickname he gave to charles when they first met.

“please?” you reminded him, lifting an eyebrow.

“cha, can you help me up, please?” theo repeated, charles ran to him, hoisting him up from the snow. “look!”

“it’s theo’s angel,” charles said, and theo leaned his head against charles’.

“you make an angel! and mommy too!” he turned around, seeing you taking a picture of the two of them. “mommy!”

“sorry, baby, you two were looking so cute,” you walked to them and kissed theo’s cold, chubby cheek.

“okay, now i take one of you two!” theo said and he started shifting in charles’ arms. charles put him down and theo extended his hands. after handing him your phone and explaining to him how to take it, theo ran back. charles put his arms around you, you leaned into his side. “i got it! mommy, cha, i did it!” he rushed to you and showed you the pictures he took. as you would expect from a (nearly) three-year-old, some were cropped, in some you could only see the snow, and one was perfect.

“how about a picture us three?” charles suggested. theo smiled brightly, you picked him up as charles extended his arm.

“say cheese,” theo instructed, making you laugh just as charles pressed his finger against the screen.

-

the day before theo’s birthday, you drove to a kid-friendly resort, where theo could play with other kids and learn the basics of skiing. charles’ family was arriving on christmas morning, and you’d all made plans to go up to the mountains. but first, you had to make sure that theo felt comfortable, so you signed him up online for a lesson.

“okay, theo, let’s go, the lesson’s about to start,” you crouched in front of him, making sure his jacket was secure around him. “are you sure you don’t want me to come with you?” you asked.

“i’m a big boy, mommy! i can do it!”

“okay, well, charles and i will be right here, alright? if you need anything you can call for us, okay?” you reminded him as he nodded his head.

“bye, cha!” he waved his hand as charles arrived with the gloves that theo had left in the car. charles kneeled next to you, putting theo’s gloves on.

“go have fun, theo. we’ll be right here in case you need anything. you know i can come with you if you want,”

“mommy already said it! i can go alone!” he laughed.

“okay, i was just saying…” charles leaned in, pressing a kiss to theo’s head. “take care, theo. i love you,”

“hi! i’m sophie, that’s my dad!” a girl around five years old approached you, and she pointed to the instructor. “he asked me to help theo today!” she smiled.

“that’s so nice, thank you sophie!” charles said.

“good luck, theo. we’ll be right here, okay?” you smiled at him.

“bye, mommy. bye, cha!” he waved his hand, even though he was still standing in front of you.

“we love you, theo. have fun!” you hugged him one last time.

“love you, mommy. love you, cha!” theo said as he and sophie rushed to where the rest of the kids were.

“why don’t you call him dad?” the girl asked. theo looked up at her. “the man, you called him cha.”

“yeah, mommy and cha!” theo nodded.

“you should call him dad, though. daddies feel bad when you don’t.”

“okay,” theo said just as the instructor called for everyone’s attention.

the rest of the day was filled with laughter, snow, and hot chocolate, and as you tucked theo in that night, you felt your eyes tearing up. he was turning three tomorrow. you thought back to that christmas eve, the day he was born. you were alone, scared, you had no one. but the second you heard him crying, the first moment the nurses placed him in your arms… you knew you’d be okay.

“i can’t believe he’s turning three tomorrow,” you sighed, resting your head on charles’ chest. theo was fast asleep in the room next door and you were feeling sleepy as the seconds passed.

“i know, i feel like it was yesterday when i first met him,” charles played with your hair. you nodded. “time goes by so fast. next thing we know he’ll be off to college,” charles said.

“i love you,” you felt so many emotions at the same time. nostalgia about theo growing up, nervous about theo meeting charles’ family for the first time, thankful for having someone as marvelous and wonderful as charles by your side.

it might seem cliche, but you fell asleep with a smile on your face.

-

“happy birthday to you,” you and charles sang as you walked into theo’s room, holding a birthday cake. “happy birthday to you,” you sat on theo’s bed, charles kneeling on the floor as he ran his fingers through theo’s hair. the boy’s eyes felt heavy as he blinked. “happy birthday, dear theo.” you giggled as theo sat up on the bed, wide eyes darting from you, to charles, to the cake in front of him. “happy birthday to you,” you both finished singing as theo pulled charles off the floor. charles moved the pillows aside, sitting against the headboard with theo on his lap.

“make a wish, theo,” charles said, you both watched as theo closed his eyes, frowning as he thought about the perfect wish. he gasped, eyes wide open as he blew the candles. you cheered for him, setting the cake on the bedside table so you could hold you little boy in your arms.

“happy birthday, my theo. mommy loves you so much,” you held him tight.

“thank you, mommy! i love you,” you felt his lips against your cheek, and it took everything in you not to cry at the wholesomeness of it all.

“my turn, my turn,” you heard charles shuffling around on the bed, felt his arm around you, the other one around theo as the boy wrapped his small hands around charles’ neck. “happy birthday, little theo. mommy and i have a whole day planned just for you. i love you,” charles said.

“love you, daddy!” theo mumbled against charles’ neck.

you both froze for a few seconds, looking at each other with wide eyes. you couldn’t panic for too long, though, because soon, theo was too enthralled by the idea of a birthday cake just for him, and all the activities you’d planned for him.

throughout the rest of the day, and you didn’t know where theo had gotten it from, he kept calling charles ‘daddy’. that night, on your way back to the chalet, theo fell asleep in the backseat, which gave you the perfect opportunity to talk to charles.

“charles, i…” you started, suddenly panicking. he gripped your hand, which he always held whenever you were in the car. “i swear, i don’t know where he got it from. i-”

“hey, it’s okay. i’ve… secretly been waiting for this moment for a few months now,” he confessed. “do you remember the first day i met theo?” he asked, you nodded, feeling the pad his thumb rubbing against the back of your hand. “i meant it back then, and i do now. i’m all in. i’m never letting go of you two.” he brought your hand to his lips, kissing your knuckles.

“how are you real?” you smiled.

-

“mommy! daddy! santa!” theo’s excited squeals woke you up. you felt charles’ arms tightening around you, his face pressed against your neck. a small body climbed in bed with you, jumping up and down on the mattress. “daddy! wake up! mommy!” theo grunted, falling to his knees as he snaked his way between you two. “santa came!”

“santa!?” charles asked, jumping up from the bed. “what are we waiting for! come on, theo, let’s see what santa left!” charles opened his arms and theo jumped. you heard their footsteps walking away, you shook your head as you finally opened your eyes. you stretched your arms over your head, standing up and sliding your feet in your slippers.

“thanks for waking me up,” you said, crossing your arms over your chest as you descended the stairs.

charles and theo looked at you with wide eyes.

“sorry, mommy, look!” theo pointed to all the presents you’d placed under the tree the owners of the chalet provided.

“whoa, theo! you must’ve behaved really good this year,” you approached them, sitting on the floor next to them.

he started opening up all of the presents, his joy growing more with each one. once the initial euphoria of all the new toys died down a bit, you left your two men in the living room setting up the battery car that charles got him - a red ferrari, obviously,- and went to make some hot chocolate for everyone, making extra since charles’ family were arriving in about an hour.

“mommy, look!” you heard from behind you, you turned around to see theo wearing a new onesie, a replica of charles’ racing suit. theo was sitting on the red car, which charles was controlling with a remote.

“oh, my goodness.” you laughed, “theo! look at you!” you smiled, looking at your little boy, with a wide smile on your face.

“daddy got me this!” he patted his torso.

“that was so nice of him, did you say thank you?”

“thank you, daddy!” theo climbed out of the car and hugged charles, who lifted him up as they walked to you.

“you’re welcome, theo,” charles placed a kiss on theo’s head, then one on your forehead.

“we’re here!” you heard from the entrance of the house.

“come here, theo,” you grabbed your son as charles walked to his mom, hugging her. “that’s pascale, charles’ mom,” you whispered in his ear, theo nodded. “that’s arthur,” you pointed to the youngest leclerc, “and that’s lorenzo. they’re his brothers,”

“i don’t have brothers,” theo said, you nodded.

“you don’t,”

“will i ever have any brothers?” theo asked.

“well… maybe, in the future,” you nodded, watching charles embracing his brothers. “do you want a brother? or a sister?”

“yeah,” theo leaned his head on your shoulder.

after the introductions were made, the rest of the leclercs presented theo with gifts they’d brought just for him, hoping to get him to open up more easily.

“daddy, look!” theo called, making arthur choke on his drink. “it’s a toy car! like the one santa gave me! i wanna play in the snow, please?” theo asked, you stood from your spot next to him and held his hand.

“come on, let’s go change your clothes. we’ll be right back,” you said, walking upstairs with theo.

did you panic and left charles alone to deal with it? maybe. but it felt right to let him be the one to tell his family about his plans for the future.

“so… daddy?” arthur smirked. receiving a punch in the arm from lorenzo. “ow!”

“charles, this…” his mom said.

“i know, i know this is a huge step for me, for (y/n), for theo. but i- i fell in love with him the moment i met him. they’re the best thing that could ever have happened to me. and (y/n), she… she’s everything i’ve ever needed, all i ever wanted. i’m happy. we’re all happy.”

“my boy,” pascale walked to charles, embracing her son. “i’m so proud of you. so happy.”

“daddy!” theo said as you walked down the stairs. “we can use the car santa left and the car uncle king gave me and make a race!”

“uncle king?” charles asked, furrowing his eyebrows. theo nodded, pointing to arthur.

“like king arthur,” theo explained. he loved to hear that story before bedtime. “uncle king.”

“i’m keeping him,” arthur said.

the three leclerc brothers and your son were playing in the snow, burying charles under a mountain of snow, making a snowman.

“i’ve never seen him happier,” pascale said as she stood next to you.

“he’s been wonderful these past few months. and from the first date, when i told him about theo, he didn’t back away. instead he just seemed more excited to meet him, hang out with him. and when they met, they… they just clicked, you know?” you said.

-

“theo, i have one last surprise for you,” you walked in his bedroom as he was putting away all the toys you gave him for his birthday and for christmas.

“another one?” he asked.

“yes, and i need your help with something, are you in?”

“yes, mommy!” you now five-year-old son smiled.

“okay. give me your hand,” you instructed, holding his hand against your stomach. “there’s a baby in here,”

“a baby?” his eyes went wide. “mommy, why did you eat a baby?”

“no, theo,” you laughed, kissing his head, “this is where babies live before they’re ready to come out into the world,” you noticed an adorable frown in his face as he tried to process what you’d just said. “don’t worry, theo, we’ll explain everything as time goes by and you’ll understand it when you’re older, okay?” theo nodded. “okay, now, i need your help telling daddy,”

“he doesn’t know?” he gasped

“no, you’re the first person i wanted to tell. i know how much you’ve wanted a sibling for so long,” you rubbed your thumb against his cheek.

about twenty minutes later, theo’s ready for bed, you nod your head encouragingly.

“daddy, goodnight!” theo called, and a few seconds later charles came in to his room.

“we’re ready for bed?” charles asked.

“yes!” theo smiled, holding the stuffed dragon that charles gave him yesterday.

“okay, let’s do this,” charles said sitting next to you on the bed, his hand holding yours, playing with the ring on your finger.

“goodnight, stars. goodnight, moon. goodnight, mommy. goodnight, daddy. goodnight, theo.” the three of you said.

“goodnight, baby.” you and theo finished, charles frowned looking from your son, to you, to the smile on your face.

“baby?” he asked, you nodded, feeling small tears in your eyes.

who would’ve thought, that theo’s sleep ritual would help you tell charles one of the biggest new of his life.

you felt his arms around you protectively all night, and while charles was sleeping you could hear him mumbling in his sleep… “baby”.

[cherryatiny]

𝐀𝐭𝐞𝐞𝐳: 𝐒/𝐎 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐟𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐦

𝑊𝑎𝑟𝑛𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑠: 𝑎𝑙𝑐𝑜ℎ𝑜𝑙 𝑐𝑜𝑛𝑠𝑢𝑚𝑝𝑡𝑖𝑜𝑛 (𝑤ℎ𝑖𝑐ℎ 𝑖'𝑚 𝑛𝑜𝑡 𝑐𝑜𝑛𝑑𝑜𝑛𝑖𝑛𝑔), 𝑖𝑡'𝑠 𝑚𝑜𝑠𝑡𝑙𝑦 𝑓𝑙𝑢𝑓𝑓, 𝑏𝑢𝑡 𝑠𝑜𝑚𝑒 𝑜𝑓 𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑚 𝑎𝑟𝑒 𝑎 𝑙𝑖𝑡𝑡𝑙𝑒 𝑏𝑖𝑡 𝑎𝑛𝑔𝑠𝑡𝑦

𝐺𝐼𝐹𝑠 𝑎𝑟𝑒 𝑛𝑜𝑡 𝑚𝑖𝑛𝑒, 𝑐𝑟𝑒𝑑𝑖𝑡 𝑔𝑜𝑒𝑠 𝑡𝑜 𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑖𝑟 𝑟𝑒𝑠𝑝𝑒𝑐𝑡𝑖𝑣𝑒 𝑜𝑤𝑛𝑒𝑟𝑠

⩥ 𝐊𝐢𝐦 𝐇𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐣𝐨𝐨𝐧𝐠

„Y/N pass me the bottle.”

Said the stern voice of your best friend Hongjoong, you were at a bar, with your other friends, celebrating Hongjoong's career success.

He finally got the chance to join a musical company and fulfil his dream of becoming an artist and a song producer.

Seeing your best friend happy that his dreams came true made you sincerely happy of course, but a small part of you was kinda sad about that.

Hongjoong has been your crush since you two were kids and now, that he is going to become a well-known artist, he'll for sure find some hot idol-model girlfriend and your love will go in the drain.

Maybe it was the alcohol in your blood, maybe the pent up rage and courage that made you confess.

„I have a confession to make... I-i love you Kim Hongjoong.”

Everyone looked up at you in disbelief, it was until you felt your stomach tightening from embarrassment, urging you to vomit, running out of the room to a restroom to push it out, without knowing Hongjoong was following you.

As he saw you scrunched and hugging the toilet he came to you, to hold your hair from falling into your face.

„I may like you too, but that's something we'll talk about once you are sober."

⩥ 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐤 𝐒𝐞𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐡𝐰𝐚

„Oh, come on, it would be fun, trust me.” Bullshit.

Going out with your best friend Seonghwa and his crush "to support him" was never a good idea.

Not only did you have to observe the cringiness of Seonghwa's love blind actions, but also see his crush treating him so poorly since she clearly did not have any interest in him.

As the movie ended and it was time for you to go home, you stood in front of the cinema with Seonghwa as he bid goodbye to the girl.

„Bye, be careful on your way home and have sweet dreams, I hope we could go out on another date soon.”

„Ah yeah, sure, bye."

You sighed softly, how could he not see the disinterest. As he turned to you, to thank you for helping him overcome this evening, your words stopped him before he could even start.

„Seonghwa, please stop hurting yourself by loving someone who's clearly not interested, when I've been showing you affection and interest for two years."

„What? Yo-you like me?”

As you realised what you've just said, earlobes and cheeks turning red from the embarrassment.

„I mean... kind of.”

⩥ 𝐉𝐞𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐘𝐮𝐧𝐡𝐨

„Y/N, I'm waiting outside the house, come on, let's go.” said Yunho over a phonecall.

You were celebrating the end of the semester with your classmates, and since you've had some drinks in you and despite that, you didn't know how to drive, you had to call your friend and deep-down also crush Yunho either way.

Rushing out to finally see your crush, you were met with the breath-taking sight of Yunho leaning to his car, one hand scrolling through his phone, the second one chilling in his pockets.

„Yuyu, my love, you’re here.”

„Gosh, Y/N you’re so drunk, I’m glad you called me and didn’t try to go home on your own. I don’t want to imagine what could’ve happened.“

„But nothing happened since I called that handsome guy I love.“

Yunho shook his head at your drunk talk, were you talking about him? Not knowing the sincerity of your words, but in the depth of his soul, he hoped the words that came out of your mouth were true...

⩥ 𝐊𝐚𝐧𝐠 𝐘𝐞𝐨𝐬𝐚𝐧𝐠

„Happy Birthday dear Mr. Kang, happy birthday to you.“

Handclap noisier than the song of celebration for your boss, Kang Yeosang.

Although being a CEO, he was really warm-hearted and kind, not like the basic CEO type who’s cold and arrogant.

Being his secretary helped you to get to know him better over the years, but also made you grow feelings for him. You sometimes just zoned out and stared at his handsome face for hours, just like now.

„Y/N, can you please follow me to my office, I need to talk to you.“

You had no idea what Yeosang wanted to talk about, feeling only one emotion. Fear. Did he find out you like him? Did you do something wrong? Is he going to fire you? As he closed the door after you two, you couldn’t even look him in the eye, rather observing your high-heels.

„Y/N, what’s with you these days? You seem... different. Your mood’s been down lately, you’re impercipient. You know you can tell me anything, i want my most important employee to be happy.“

Employee. That’s all you were.

„I know you’re probably gonna get mad and I fully understand, feel free to fire me, but truth to be told, over the years I’ve been working for you, I grew feelings and I just can’t get over it... I-I love you, Mr. Kang.“

Yeosang’s face went pale, absorbing the words you’ve just said, mind going blank from the sudden confession.

„I don’t know what to say, Y/N. I mean... you’re a nice, young, hardworking girl, but.. I-I might need a few days to let it sink and think it over.“

⩥ 𝐂𝐡𝐨𝐢 𝐒𝐚𝐧

San's hips moved to the rhythm of the music, his hands on the waist of some random girl, their sensual dancing just irritating you.

It wasn't like you and San were dating or anything, but you still couldn't stand the thought of him being with anyone else. An annoyed groan coming out of your mouth as you picked your glass and took a shot to drink away those thoughts. San taking the girl by her hand and coming your way.

„Hey Y/N I just wanted to say goodbye, since I’m leaving with Sora to my place, if you need anything you can call, but I don’t think I’ll be able to pick up, since my hands will have other work to do, so rather try Seonghwa.“

„Yeah, I thought so, just don’t forget to wear a condom when you get your dick wet, cuz it looks like you’ll end up with STD.“ you responded, rolling your eyes at him.

„Why are you so rude and foul today, are you jealous because I get some pussy and you’re left with no dick because no one wants to approach you since you’re so mean? Get your act together and we can talk tomorrow.“

„No San, you want to know why am I so cheeky? It’s because I have to watch the man I love fuck around with a random hooker. Go enjoy your dick appointment now, you must be busy.“ Without thinking of it any more, you left him there, your aura for sure full of pure rage.

⩥ 𝐒𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐌𝐢𝐧𝐠

„Ew fuck no, Yeosang that’s nasty, I wish I could go back in time to five minutes ago when I didn’t hear this confession“ laughed Wooyoung at Yeosang’s confession in the game truth or dare.

Wooyoung took the bottle from Jongho’s hand, ready to spin the bottle and let it pick another victim of his stupid asks and dares. Spinning the bottle, it landed on you. Wooyoung's eyes already glistening from the excitement of daring or asking you something.

„So, Y/N, truth or dare?”

„Dare” a playful smirk finding its place on Wooyoung's face

„I dare you to kiss the person in this room, you have feelings for.”

You immediately started to regret telling him, that you like Mingi, the look in your eyes scolding him.

„Okay, but you all have to close your eyes.”

The 8 boys and your other 3 girl friends closed their eyes, as you hesitantly got up, making your way to Mingi, your crush of 5 months. Sitting on the ground next to him, your fingers landed on his jaw as your lips met his. Mingi’s eyes shot open as all your friends started applauding at your confession.

„I-I think i have feelings for you too Y/N...“

⩥ 𝐉𝐮𝐧𝐠 𝐖𝐨𝐨𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐠

You were currently in the changing room, packing your belongings, to take from your workplace. You decided to leave your job as a makeup artist and stylist for the group ATEEZ. The reason was the fact that you liked one of the members and didn’t want to cause any problems to the groups, you knew it was inappropriate to like him, but it was irresistible.

You attached feelings for Wooyoung when you first started to work with them. All eight boys were absolutely amazing, but Wooyoung was just... different. He sparked a flame of interest in you, his personality, his talent, his looks, all those drew you to Wooyoung.

As you cleaned all your makeup brushes, the door to the changing room opened, as the figure of the aforementioned boy stood there.

„What are you doing Y/N? Why are you packing your things, are you going somewhere?“

„I’m leaving, Wooyoung.“

„What, why?“

„That is none of your concers.“

„It is, you’re my stylist, but more importantly, you’re my friend.“

„Yeah, that’s the problem Wooyoung, I’m your stylist - your colleague, that’s why I have to leave.“  

„Why would you have to leave because you’re my stylist, what ar-“

„Because I like you Wooyoung, okay?! That’s why I can’t keep on working with you and mix my feelings into my job, it’s inappropriate, now if you excuse me, I’m leaving.“

The boy stood there as a column, without any movement. Should he go after you, accept your feelings and then you’ll keep on working with him and being his friend, or should he stay there and not go after you? Either way, it was already too late...

⩥ 𝐂𝐡𝐨𝐢 𝐉𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐡𝐨

„So, what’s new in your life, Y/N? We haven’t seen each other for a long time because of our busy schedules.“ Jongho said as he sipped on his boba tea.

„Well, not that much happened in my life. You know how it is, a lot of work and stress, and lesser free time and sleep. I’ve bought a new notebook since my old one broke down and uhm... yeah well... I’ve been catching feelings for this boy lately.“

„Wow, really? I’m so happy for you Y/N, tell me more about it, I need to know what kind of a boy owns my bestie’s heart.“

„Well, he’s a really talented singer, he’s kind and funny, he’s more of an athletic type, hmm... and he’s really really strong. But he’s for real one of the nicest and best persons I’ve ever met, I like him, but I don’t know whether to tell him, because I'm not certain of his feelings...“

„Wow, he seems to be a nice guy, but don’t be blinded by your feelings, if he doesn’t like you, let it be, I don’t want you to get hurt, because of some stupid boy who won’t acknowledge the feelings such a beautiful and amazing woman like you has for him. Anyway, do I know him or who is he? I’m like really really curious right now.“

„It’s you Jongho.. you’re the boy i like.“

[wordynerdygurl]

Hello Everyone! I've been conspiring with @sammy-jo1977 to create a new series of sorts. We want to explore all those characters that started us on our journey into Fandoms, large and small.

This series will be a place for those ladies and gents who haven't had a lot of attention recently, are old favorites or the ones you can't seem to shake. If you would like to contribute a chapter to this guide, please send me a message! We want to have a full and accurate guide, so we are hoping you'll hop in with your character of expertise!

As an example, I'm posting our first story... I'd love to get your thoughts! With Love - Your WordyNerdyGurl

In The Stacks - A Rupert Giles Story

Author’s Note:  This story is due, in large part, to my beta-bestie @sammy-jo1977 and it is part of the afore mentioned series.  This character might be off television, but his fiery spirit lives on!! As always, reblogs/ shares are encouraged as are comments and love!

Pairing:  Female Reader x Giles (Buffy The Vampire Slayer Series) Summary:  You get up to mischief with the librarian, in the stacks. Warnings:  SMUT ahead.  General Buffy knowledge might help, but is not required.  There’s a moment with a bit of blood, but hopefully nothing too triggering for anyone! I hope you enjoy!

“Mr. Giles?” “Just a moment!”  You heard the clipped British voice answer before being drowned out by the heavy thumping of falling books and the rustling sound of shifting papers hitting the floor. As you stepped further into the Sunnydale High library, you weren’t surprised to see the familiar faces of Buffy, Willow, Xander and Cordelia huddled around a small table.  The friends were practically inseparable and clearly close.  You found their kinship adorable and couldn’t help smiling at the group as you drew closer. “Hello to some of my best students!  And of course, to you Mr. Harris.  How is everyone today?”

Willow, stalwart student and overachiever, smiled broadly, “Pretty good.  I did ace my math quiz and got an A on my English paper… but, well, I only pulled a B on my Bio test and I just know that I could have done better.” Offering her friend a consoling pat to the shoulder, Buffy sighed, “It’s ok, Will.  You’ll get those cells next time!” “Tune in next week as Willow passes her AP Biology test with flying colors, on ‘As Sunnydale Turns’!” Before anyone could counter, Giles came around the corner carrying a sturdy stack of texts which he dropped onto the table as gently as the large load allowed, “As always, you four are the best assistants a librarian could ask for.” “Come on Giles!  You know I only hang out here for the beautiful ladies!” Pinching the bridge of his strong nose, Rupert Giles sighed, “I am well aware of where your interests lie, Xander.” “Please, he can hardly handle being with one beautiful girl.”  That was from Cordelia who pouted prettily, her hand mirror open as she fixed her hair. “My girlfriend, ladies and gentlemen!  Thanks for that, Cordy.” Snapping the case shut, staring down her beau, she smiled, “You’re welcome.” “Uh, Mr. Giles, if I may?”  You hated to interrupt but you had come in with a purpose and you meant to see it through. “Yes, of course, how can I help?” Shuffling your feet, a bit nervous now with the asking, you smiled shyly, “I asked at the local library but they were absolutely no help.  You see, I’m looking for a specific point of reference and I was led to believe that you could help me.” “Oh!  Is it something for our Inner Vision collage boards?  I love working on mine, only… It’s not my fault that I only see dark clouds and blood when I close my eyes.” “Well, Miss Summers, beauty is in the eye of the beholder.  And the best art challenges us to see that beauty.” “I hate to tell you what I see when I close my eyes.”  Xander retorted. “Ah, Mr. Harris, your collage certainly showcases your, ahem, cultured world view.” “Hey!  The Simpsons are fine art, ok?  Just because they don’t live in a museum doesn’t mean they aren’t culture.” Giles, unable to stand by any longer griped, “Xander, I am almost positive that cartoons do not count as culture.” You started to answer but Buffy cut you short, adding, “Don’t mind Giles.  If it doesn’t come out of some dirty, dusty old book it can’t be culture.” “It’s pop culture!  The entertainment of my generation!” It was your turn to cut in, turning to the tweed clad gentleman, “Actually, Mr. Giles, Xander has a point.  Cartoons and animation in general are all increasingly seen as valid forms of art.  No matter what your tomes might tell you.” Smirking a little, he appraised your answer before replying, “Be that as it may, Mr. Harris, the amount of television you consume is corrosive.” Raising his hands in defense, Xander’s head swiveled between the two of you as Willow chimed in, “Give it up, Xander.  You know you’ll never win and besides, I’m pretty sure that animation and art are different.  Wait.  They are, aren’t they?” “When I was in Rome last summer, the very attractive, very Italian tour guide told us that they’ve found painted graffiti on the Coliseum.  It only goes to prove that times change but people don’t.” “Cordy’s right!  About the art, not the dishy Italian.  And they didn’t paint it, they carved it.”  Bouncing her blonde hair decisively, Buffy made her declaration.   “Wouldn’t paint be easier?  I mean, who wants to carry a chisel in order to deface a wall?” “Oh!  Oh!  I know this!  The kind of paint needed to last for centuries hadn’t been invented yet!”  Willow, lifting out of her seat in the excitement of academic excellence, was giddy. “Yes, Willow, that is correct.  In fact, a lot of the graffiti is simple and very crude.  Mostly of the phallus, if memory serves.  I’m sure I can find a documented case in Agrippa if you’ll all just-” And you watched as everyone rolled their eyes as Giles trailed off, lost now in the hunt for a specific volume which could be sited, should further proof be needed. “Ew.  Pass.” “I’m with Buffy here, Giles.  Keep your Grecian graffiti out of my brain.” “I’ll stick with the Simpsons, thank you very much.” “Yes, well.  It’s not Grecian at all, is it?  It’s Roman-” Smiling broadly, Buffy hopped off the table, “Giles is right.  The Greeks were more into orgies!” “Buffy!”  Willow’s shocked response made you cover a laugh with a fake cough. “-Of course, cites are rare.  Very difficult to find documentation.”  Giles, typically, hadn’t given up the search. Cutting through the chatter, louder than it ever needed to be, the period bell sounded. "Ugh.  Gym class for me.  Why is this even a thing?" "I don't know Buffy, I thought you liked showing off in your little shorts and beating the boys at basketball." "Cordy, that's enough.  And while us boys do love looking at you, Buff... we don't love the beatings you regularly deliver." "Well, I have a free period Giles!  Do you want me to stay and -" Snapping shut the leather book he was gripping, Giles caught your eye and turned to the peppy student, "Uh, no Willow, I don't think so.  I believe I need to see what our Art Department is in need of at the moment." With a shrug, Willow began packing up her belongings as Xander slung his back back over his shoulder, "Will, you can come with me.  I'm going to find a nice little corner, under a tree, and sleep away my study hall." “But, I… I could help find the Agrippa?  Or… some other old Roman book?” Xander wrapped an arm around Willow and took Cordelia’s open hand, “But why do that when nothing calls?” "Another fine example of your scholastic aptitude, Mr. Harris", was your parting shot at the foursome as they walked out the door. "Well. Mr. Giles, now that we’re alone… Could I talk you into helping me out?" “Of course, of course.”  Pushing his glasses further up his nose, fixing his light eyes on yours, “What are we looking for?” Sighing deeply, knowing the chances were slim, “I was hoping we would find some examples of Pre-Columbian deity carvings.” Pausing, his look serious, Giles peered at you, “Interesting.  Anything in particular?” “Yes, actually.”  Again you flushed, more than a little flustered at what you were really looking for, “I’m researching fertility icons.” Raising his eyebrows, Giles started, more than a little outside of his comfort zone, but you had to give him credit.  He recovered from the shock rather quickly, “Oh… I… I see.  Well yes, I’m sure we can find… something.  If you’ll follow me, please.” “I’m right behind you.”  Biting into your bottom lip, you smiled to yourself.  Right behind Mr. Giles?  What a place to be.  Giles led the young art teacher through the deepest stacks of the library, pausing once or twice to confirm that she was keeping up with him.  He was ashamed to admit that he had lost travelers a time or two as he stalked through his overstuffed shelves, knowing instinctively where to find the book he needed most. For her, watching the tweed covered bottom of Mr. Giles was no hardship.  True, he was older and tad bit reserved in the best British way, yet she had the sneaking suspicion that underneath all the wool and starched cotton was the heart of a wild man poet. "Uh... just a bit further, I'm afraid.  Books like this, well, I keep them at a greater remove." "It makes sense.  Don't want the kiddos getting a hold of anything too tantalizing." "Of course not.  As you well know, they don't need much help in the libidinous response department." You chuckled softly, nodding as the air around you grew stuffier, "Too true!  You should see what some of them turn in and call art.  It would make a blind man blush." And at the mention of blushing, you were shocked to see a rosy hue grow on Mr. Giles' cheeks.  You liked it.  It reminded you of the high color in a Vermeer painting.  You couldn’t help the flutter in your belly at the thought, "Mr. Giles, have you ever seen a South American fertility statue?" "I can't say that I have... have... have you?"  Something about the idea of you examining an ancient artifact directly connected to sexual congress made his body stir.  "Hmm... Oh, yes.  I was able to study in Mexico for a semester.  Some of the art work is just incredible and the carvings, they're truly magnificent.  Carefully made.  Usually stone or..." swallowing hard, your throat suddenly dry, "hard wood." Breaking fast at the implication in your words, Giles froze in place which caused you to press directly against his broad, vest covered back.  You had a second to register the soft scent of his aftershave; something spicy and masculine, which made your mouth water.  Moaning quietly, you offered a weak apology, “Oh, I am so sorry, Mr. Giles.” Offering you his profile, the bookcases too cramped for him to turn around fully, you saw his sweet smile, “That’s… that’s quite alright.  In fact, we’re here.” Stepping out of the way, you pushed back against the opposite wall, the shelves digging into your spine in the confined space.  Giles bent over, giving you a great view of his backside, as he extracted a slim book from the bottommost ledge.  When he stood up, directly in front of you, the narrow, book covered alcove caused him to stumble. Giles’ chest collided with your own, forcing the air out of your lungs.  Instinctively, you lifted a leg, curling it over the swell of one trousered hip and lifting the hem of your knee length plaid kilt.  Nose to nose in a compromising position, you exhaled a shaky breath as Mr. Giles inhaled, “Close quarters around here.” Shifting under his deceptively hard figure, it was difficult to ignore all the places that were firm to the touch, especially when you could feel so much through the thin barrier of your cotton panties.  Bracing one arm on the obliging shelf biting into your shoulder, Giles pushed back a bit, lifting his weight off of you without making any other attempts to move away.  He was so close now.  Close enough to feel your fuzzy sweater and all the soft skin that trembled beneath it.  Close enough to see the pound of your pulse in your throat.  Close enough that when you licked over your bottom lip Giles could almost taste it too.  And why shouldn’t he?  “Giles?”  Your voice was whisper soft, fanning hotly over the face of your colleague. “Uh… yes?” “I’m stuck.” Blinking behind his thick lenses, it took the normally quick witted Brit a second to process your words, “You’re stuck?” Nodding slowly, your hair curling over your cheek, “My… My skirt.  It’s… uh, caught.  Caught on something behind me.” “Good heavens!  I’m so sorry, let me help you.”  Slowly, Giles lowered your bare leg to the floor, his hand lingering for a second longer than absolutely necessary.  He was still in your space.  Still incredibly close to you. You arched away from the bookcase in an attempt to free yourself with a groan that sounded heady in the stuffy stacks.  All you managed to do was force your sweater covered décolletage into Giles’ chest.  Stammering, a wave of sweat breaking over his brow, “Allow me?” The way your skirt was caught pulled the bright plaid lower on your waist than you would normally consider decent.  It meant that you had a fleshy strip of skin exposed along your tummy and Giles raised his eyebrows by means of asking permission to touch you.  “Yea, yes.  Please!” Tentatively, gently, you felt the strong fingers of Rupert Giles circle your waist and shivered at the unfamiliar familiarity of his touch.  Your chin rested on his shoulder as he worked and you couldn’t help sighing when he opened his hands and pulled you closer.  Under other circumstances you might have misunderstood the embrace but you were both professionals.  Not that you hadn’t considered the handsome book guardian a time or two before. “I… I think we’re almost there.  If you’ll just, maybe to the right?” “Um, sure.”  Following his directions you twisted in his arms, trying hard not to tear your outfit or rub against Giles.  All the close contact and talk of fertility gods had you feeling a little aroused and it wouldn’t do for your colleague to learn that fact. With a triumphant grunt, Giles set you free, only for gravity to kick back in.  The momentum created by your falling took the gentleman and the entire Grollier’s Gothic Almanac collection with you.  A cascade of papers, scrolls and dust rained down on you both. Coughing, aware that you were laying on something softer than the floor, you struggled into a sitting position, swatting away clouds of disintegrated pages, “Rupert?  Are you alright?” From beneath you a rumbling grumble that sounded like, “Yes quite… you?” was heard.  It was then that you realized exactly where you were.  Straddling your friendly neighborhood librarian, surrounded by debris, but safe, all the same. “Oh my!  I’m so-” “No, No.  Please, don’t apologize.  I’ve been meaning to reorganize this section and well, now it seems I’ve got no choice.” “You’ve got a bump.  Right here…”  Just over his right eye a small bruised egg, the color of lilacs, was starting to rise and you gingerly touched the swelling spot. “Then it will match the one on the back of my head perfectly.” “Poor Giles!  All of this injury in the name of research!” “No one ever tells you the dangers one might encounter in the library.” His dry British wit sent you both into giggles and suddenly nothing could be funnier than the moment you were in with Mr. Giles.  Looking up at you, his fingertip traced over your cheek, suddenly serious, “I’m not the only one with a war wound, it appears.” “Oh?”  Your hand covered his as you realized that you had a small cut, bleeding just a little, over the apple of your jaw.  Smoothing his thumb over your injury, Giles soothed you, saying, “Hush now, I think you’ll live.”  And you watched as Giles sucked the drop of scarlet from the pad there, his green eyes on yours, daring you.  Something about it was so… sinful.  So dark.  So alluring. Then his lips were on yours, suddenly and savagely.  Hands, firm and capable, slid under the fluff of your sweater along your spine as you tangled your own in his dark hair.  Giles, drawing you near, was satisfied only when you were splayed over him, writhing between the piles of text and stacks of piled paperbacks, as his tongue plundered your mouth. Trapped by his bent knees at your bottom, Giles helped center you over the firmness of his excitement, teasing you as you moaned, “Oh, oh Rupert!” “Call me Ripper.”  Before the word had left your throat, Giles was sloppily kissing over your neck, sucking lightly on the skin revealed by the v-neck of your top.  Sitting up quickly, you lifted the soft sweater over your head, tossing it away from you without concern.  Like one of the teenagers you might chastise, you then hugged your lover tight, gasping when you felt the nip of teeth over your bra.  “Giles… Uh, Ripper!  Please, go easy?”  With a hard grip on your upper thigh and one hand on the back of your neck, Giles held you still, smirking, “If you wanted easy you shouldn’t have come looking for fertility icons, my dear little art teacher.  And if this particular article of clothing-” He paused long enough to pinch at your hardening nipple before continuing, “-is dear to you, take it off.” Clenching your abdominals at his crass language, more turned on that you could remember, you reached behind you.  Unhooking the pretty scrap of lace and satin, you shyly covered yourself, biting into your bottom lip, “Fine… Ripper.  Should I be worried for my virtue?” “Absolutely.”  Without waiting for permission, Giles pulled your arms away, exposing your bare body to his blazing gaze, “You have nothing to hide, you know?  You are-” “Just shut up and kiss me, Ripper.”  And he did. Grinding your hips into his, it was impossible to ignore his hardening manhood, even through the fabric of his pressed trousers.  Giles cupped your bottom, under your skirt but over your panties, bouncing you in place as if he was already inside of you.  For your part, you tried to unbutton his pin striped shirt, but the force of his kisses was proving too distracting. “Oh, dear!  Poor thing been kissed senseless?”  He was teasing and cruel, but in the sexiest possible way. Red cheeked and huffing, you nodded, “Yes… let me touch you!” “Tsk… you didn’t say ‘please’.” “Please!  Please, Ripper!  Oh god, please let me!” Unseating you slightly, Giles leaned up on his elbows, cocking his head to one side as he took in the mess he had made of you, “Go ahead then.  Unzip my pants.” “What?” Removing his glasses, eyeing you darkly, “You heard me, I think.” Swallowing hard, your hands shaking with excitement, you reached for Giles’ belt.  Watching him, and only him, you slowly slide the leather from it’s buckle.  When you popped the button of his pants and let your hand drag over his hardened length, Rupert groaned and tossed his head back, “Yes.  Keep going.” Slowly, agonizingly so, you lowered the zipper as you were ordered to do, “What now, Ripper?” “Take me out.  I want you to feel what you do to me.” “I can do that.”  You played it cool, but the saucy words being said in that clipped British baritone did things to you.  They made your thighs tighten, your belly flutter and your breath catch.   Trailing a hand over Giles' barely exposed hip, you moved closer to the prize, your prize, as it pulsed with need.  Wrapping your hand around the meaty girth of Rupert's member, you couldn't help stroking the silky hot skin, so vital in your palm.  That it caused the man beneath you to moan your name only added fuel to the fire of your desire. Slick and sorely wanting, you licked your lips, ready to savor the flavor of your book stacking beau but he stopped you, saying, "Last chance to run back to the studio." "No way… Ripper."  And you felt a rough jerk as your panties were removed by force, the air cool on your overheated core.  Another kiss, full of needful things, distracted you as Giles parted your lower lips with his nimble fingers. Pumping into you, once, twice, just to ensure that you were ready, Rupert swiftly stretched your center.  With your small hand guiding his shaft, you lowered yourself onto the engorged tower of his power, crying out a ragged, "Oh God!" You thought you were capable of handling any man, but the delicious spread Giles' fine form forced you to endure was more than you expected.  Clutching at his bunched up sweater vest, your back arched tautly as Rupert dragged your hips down onto his unrelenting hardness over and over.   In your head, a rhythmic, tribal tattoo that made you think of ancient fires and curved statues took hold and you rose and fell against Giles on the beats vibrating through your brain.  He sensed it too, alternating his stroke, slowing down and speeding up in time with the thrumming pulse only the pair of you could hear.  "I want you to cum for me.  Do you understand?  Tell me you understand." "Yes!  Yes!  I'm so close, Ripper!  So close!" "Good.  That's very good."  Tingling now, your muscles tensed, ready for the release Rupert would provide.  You flung yourself onto his swollen sex without thought or reason, merely searching for the pleasure he had promised.  His thumb, so thick, so clever, pressed against your sensitive clit and your world imploded. Rupert felt it.  The moment your body and his melded together was forceful.  It tore his pleasure from his loins in grunting gasps as he experienced your ecstacy at his hands. Limp and listless, you draped your half nude body over his, dazed and drained.  Who knew screwing the librarian would feel this good?  In your post coital haze you started to laugh.  Giles, his hands roaming over the sweat soaked skin of your back, heard your chuckles and joined in.  It was another release, of sorts, and you found it almost as intimate as the act you had just committed. Folding your hands under your chin, flashing Rupert a wide smile, "Ripper, huh?" Sliding his glasses back into place and carding a hand through his hair, Giles grinned, "Oh, uh… yes.  Ripper.  My nickname in London." Toying with the collar of his shirt, "I'd love to hear about London sometime… Ripper." At the sound of that name in your voice, Rupert flexed inside of you, "Call me that again and you'll miss last period." Gasping against him, nodding weakly, "Hmm… promise?" That made him smile broadly as he handed you back your sweater, "We can't have a repeat of last week, can we?" "It wasn’t my fault you didn't hear the bell ring, Mr. Giles!" Sitting up, you fastened your bra and shrugged into your sweater before asking, "Did you have to destroy my undies?" "I'm afraid I did.  Although I told you to remove anything dear, didn't I?" "What am I gonna do for the next hour, Giles?" Pushing his glasses up, "I would advise you not to bend over." Swatting at him playfully, you used one of the sturdier shelves to stand, adjusting your skirt and fluffing your hair.  Looking around at the absolute mess created by falling books, embarrassed, you asked, "Can I help clean this up?" "No, I don't think that'll be necessary.  After all, Willow will be in-" "Along with Buffy and Xander and Cordelia.  Got it." Standing himself, Giles chuckled as he fastened his trousers and set himself to rights, "Precisely.  Now-" he bent over to retrieve a slim volume, "- The book you asked about.  Fertility iconography in Meso-American subcultures." "Thanks.  Ya know, I always enjoy coming to the library.  I'm surprised more people don't." Walking with you, his hand on your lower back, nuzzling into your neck, "I enjoy you cumming in the library." It was on the tip of your tongue to say something fresh when the overly loud bell clanged.  Lifting up on tiptoes you pressed a kiss to the goose egg over Giles' eye, saying, "I hope that makes it feel better!" Snagging you into a tight hug, Giles stared into your eyes before kissing you deeply, "That.  That makes it feel better." And then the library door swung wide on the four students who called the library a second home, "Um… are my eyes deceiving me or is Giles sporting a black eye?  I was only gone for an hour, big guy, what happened?" "If you must know, Xander, a shelf collapsed in the back.  We were fortunate enough not to be badly hurt but, there were some bumps and bruises." "A shelf!  Oh no… which one?!" Giles turned to Willow solemnly, "I'm afraid all the Grollier’s… and most of Crentist." "On it.  Come on Xander.  You can help me sort!" "Aw, gee.  That sounds like fun." As the pair trotted off, you turned to Giles, whispering low, "Dinner?  My place?  You can tell me about London, your childhood and why you love tweed." Eyeing Buffy, who was distracted and a distraught, Giles answered, "Tonight?  Um…" "He'd love to!  Say 9 o'clock?  And, he'll bring the wine."

Spinning on your heel, surprised that Buffy was your champion, you grinned, "Great!  Awesome!  I will see you then."

As you left you heard the bubbly blonde doling out instructions, "No Giles.  You can't wear that outfit to dinner!  You need to look nice.  Nicer than you do now.  Also, why is there so much dust in your hair?" If Giles answered you didn’t hear it over your big yawn.  You had a lot to do between now and 9 o’clock.  Rupert Giles was coming over for dinner and you could hardly wait.

------ Fin ------- I’m tagging my minxes, even though this is specifically NOT a Loki story.  I do want you guys to send me stories that might fall under the “Hot Characters” banner though!   Minxes:   @scrumptious-finicky-illusion​ @iamverity​ @mizfit2​ @sammy-jo1977​ @wolfsmom1​ @jessiejunebug​ @iluvsumbucky​ @unadulteratedwizardlove @procrastinatinglikeabitch @shxdowofdarkness​ @nonsensicalobsessions​ @ahintofkiwistrawberry​ @alexakeyloveloki​ @rorybutnotgilmore​ @crystalizedcaramel​ @lokislittlecorner​ @capcapcapsicle @jamielea81​ @caffiend-queen​​ @otakumultimuse-hiddlewhore​​ @jenjen8675309​​ @that-one-person​​ @roguewraith​​ @toomanystoriessolittletime​ @vodka-and-some-sass​ @just-random-obsessions​ @brokenthelovely​ @lots-of-loki​ @thefallenbibliophilequote​

[babydaddyleorio]

Tantalizing (Toji x reader)

pairings: Toji Fushiguro x fem!reader

word count: 1,649

summary: You are the director of a security company, charged with the simple task of selling your technology to esteemed businesses. The simple task, however, becomes more complicated than you imagined when you meet Mr.Fushiguro. Buckle up because work becomes a lot more difficult when the heart gets involved.

warnings: slight cursing, grammatical errors 

AN: y/n = your name , l/n= last name

You sat in your black, leather chair while focusing all of your attention towards decreasing the stacks of paper that were currently piled on top of your wooden desk. You had, much to your dismay, procrastinated completing your work for the past week and now you were reaping the consequences of going into overdrive. You clenched the ballpoint pen that was in your hand rather tightly, and your feet tapped against the grey carpet with impatience. You felt like banging your head against your desk, repeatedly might you add, and you probably would’ve done so if your eyes didn’t catch the shadow of someone moving towards you from your peripheral.

“Knock, knock.” Your assistant, Nadia, tapped her knuckles on your door frame while peeking her head into your office. You glanced up from your papers with low eyes as she walked towards the printer sitting in your corner, suddenly deciding to yourself that talking to her would be the perfect excuse to take a break from doing your work. You then straightened your posture and cleared your throat loudly, Nadia already rolling her eyes at your predictable behavior.

“So, Nadia-”

“No, don’t even think about it.” Nadia wagged her finger and sang her words to you in a teasing manner, simultaneously pushing buttons on the printer she stood in front of. “You are not using me to get out of your work.”

“Why nooootttt?” you groaned loudly and threw your head back against your leather chair, eyes rolling up to glare at your ceiling. Nadia turned to face you with papers in her hand, fixing her beige hijab while doing so.

“Because you have a deadline you have to meet.” Nadia stated matter of factly to which you side eyed her with annoyance.

“Deadline my ass, I’m taking a nap.” You murmured and reached over to lift a messy stack of documents so you’d have more room to sleep on your desk. Nadia furrowed her eyebrows and stormed towards you, rolling up the papers in her hand before whacking you on the head with them.

“Ouch, what was that for?” You whined while holding the top of your head, a pain now circulating in the spot that she hit. You glanced up at the annoyed woman who stood in front of you with her arms crossed and an eyebrow cocked challengingly. The thing was, Nadia was not only your assistant, but she also happened to be your best friend as well. Nobody could really tell that the two of you were close because she always kept your relationship professional and cordial while at work, but sometimes her “take no shit” side (as she would call It) would slip through the cracks of her cool façade.

“Y/n, I am this,” Nadia pinched her fingers together while shoving them in your face. “close to molly-whopping you if you don’t finish these damn papers.” 

You rolled your eyes at her threat, but still chose to pick your pen back up because you weren’t in the mood to test her right now. Once Nadia saw that you were getting back to your work, she brought her hand to her mouth and blew you a kiss.

“Love you, bestie.” She cooed in a sickly-sweet voice and turned around to strut out of your office. You looked up from your papers with squinted eyes, slyly sticking your tongue out at the back of your retreating assistant.

“Also, don’t forget that you have a meeting with the Zen’in Association in 3 hours! So chop, chop!” She called out over her shoulder with a smirk and this time you didn’t stop your head as It fell on to your desk. 

          ✧✧✧

“I think I have a wedgie.” You whispered into Nadia’s ear as you stood next to her in the elevator, hand reaching behind you to pull the annoyance out. Nadia rolled her eyes and looked at the watch on her wrist.

“At least we got here on time, although you really need to work on your driving.” She chided and you looked at her with your forehead scrunched.

“My driving is completely fine.” you scoffed, slightly offended at what your assistant was insinuating.

“Oh please, you are the definition of road rage.” She said while rubbing her temples and you clicked your tongue in disagreement.

“It’s not my fault some people are complete idiots behind the wheel.” You said and Nadia snapped her head to look at you.

“And you’re not one of them?!” She asked with her eyebrows raised high. 

You snorted as the elevator doors pulled open. The both of you walked out of It and were immediately met with the receptionist who sat behind the desk that was placed in the center of the room.

“Hello, how can I help you?” The woman asked with both hands clasped together and a smile on her face, revealing a set of deep dimples. You and Nadia walked towards her and Nadia pulled out a paper from the manila folder she had in her hands.

“We’re here for our appointment that is scheduled today.” Nadia replied and the receptionist took the paper from her hand. She then examined the white sheet, but It seemed like the more her eyes drifted over the information on the paper, the more the bright smile on her face disappeared.

“Oh.. It seems that you’ve arrived promptly for your appointment with Mr.Fushiguro.” The receptionist said, you picking up on the hint of nervousness that was now intertwined in her voice. Her sudden mood change threw you off and you wondered to yourself what would have shaken the girl up in that short amount of time.

The receptionist stood up from her rolling chair and politely told you to “hold on one second” while bowing. She then scurried off through one of the doors behind her, leaving you and Nadia standing in front of the wooden desk completely baffled.

“Well that was weird.” You said out loud and Nadia nodded in response.

“Right, I wonder what got into her...” Nadia trailed off, just as lost as you were.

Moments later, the receptionist came back, but this time an extremely tall woman followed behind her. The new woman wore a yellow, sunflower dress with white wedges on her polished feet and her faux locs pulled into a high ponytail. She had a bright smile plastered on her sun kissed face as she moved to stand in front of you.

“Good afternoon, It’s a pleasure to meet you both. I am Mr.Fushiguro’s assistant and you can call me Laila.” The woman chirped happily, extending her hand to shake Nadia and yours. The woman’s persona was a complete contradiction to the receptionist’s ghostly one and your eyes trailed back to her sitting behind the desk with her eyes now casted downward.

“Ms. L/N, I will escort you to the 1-on-1 meeting now. Your assistant can wait in the waiting room until you're done.” Laila nodded and began walking towards a hallway, beckoning for you to follow behind her.

The Zen’in headquarters was very fancy and also seemingly calm, you thought to yourself as you trailed Fushiguro’s assistant. The whole place had a dark theme going on with black marble structure, black colored furniture, black framed paintings... hell It seemed like even all the employees were clad in black- well minus Laila that is. You whistled to yourself lowly with your hands in your pant’s pockets, eyes wandering to look out the tall glass windows that framed the hallway. To be completely honest, you really wanted to skip this meeting. You would rather be at home, binging your favorite show while munching on some very questionable healthy snacks, but unfortunately you had priorities to attend to. You were in charge of a security company that dealt with supplying high-grade technology to other businesses and that is essentially why you were here today. From what you were told, the Zen’in association was run by a prestigious family, Toji Fushiguro being one of its members. You were supposed to meet with a different family member today to discuss the arrangements of your products, but for some reason you were swapped to consult with Toji instead.

Whatever, It didn’t make you any difference anyway.

“Ms. L/N, we’re here.” Laila interrupted your thoughts and you turned to see that she had stopped in front of a tall, black door. Laila then knocked twice on the smooth marble before turning the handle and stepping inside the room, you taking that as a sign to follow behind her. As soon as your foot stepped over the threshold, you took note of how the office reeked of expensiveness and still matched the dark theme that the whole building had, but It also seemed minimalistic as well. 

“I see you finally made It.” A low voice suddenly reached your ears and you whipped your head to the side to see a man that was blanketed by darkness sitting in the corner of the room. The man reached an arm behind to adjust the blinds, and you squinted your eyes at the sudden bright light that hit you, and once they adjusted they caught sight of the man’s appearance. The man wore an obsidian, polished suit with a white shirt underneath that was slightly unbuttoned. His legs were spread wide, and he had his elbow propped on the arm of the chair as the other twirled around a glass of alcohol.

“Toji Fushiguro.” The man said with eyes scanning your body, slowly moving his glass toward his mouth to take a sip from his drink. You stood immobile in your spot as you watched his veiny hand set the glass down on the table beside him and lean his body over, extending his hand for you to shake while smirking with his eyes low. “Pleasure to meet you.”

[btsslowburnfic]

The Arrangement Chapter 26 (a)

Story summary: Desperately in need of money, you answered the questionable ad. AKA-Arranged marriage AU featuring Y/N and Yoongi

Chapter Summary: More drunk Jin and Yoongi

AN: This week at school was busy so here is a partial chapter. I will post the rest by Saturday Evening. 

Previous Chapter here

You handed Jin the bottle and laughed as you followed him to the kitchen.  He pulled out a fancy wine opening gadget and sat there, entranced by it. He carefully placed it on top of the corked lid and pressed the button. A drilling sound filled the air. “What?” Jin asked, looking over at you, “You're not impressed?” He gestured to the opener, clearly thinking you should be.

You smirked, putting a hand on your hip. ”I was a bartender , I could open one of these blind folded, with a pin knife.”

“Well aren’t you just fancy.” Jin teased as he sat a wine glass on the counter.. “Yoongi-ah, do you want any wine or are you sticking with whiskey?” Jin shouted across the living room.

Yoongi looked back up from his phone. “No wine.”

Jin pulled down another glass for just himself and poured. “Describe this wine to me.” HE swished it.

“It’s red and it has a cat on the label.” You said, taking the glass.

Jin pursed his plush lips together, “Really? That’s why you bought the wine?”

You cocked your head to the side, “Hey Yoongi. Why did we buy this wine? Do you remember? It’s red. It has a cat annnnd…..?” You hoped he would play along.

“And it was cheap!” He yelled back.

You smiled and nodded your head in agreement, looking at Jin, “And it was cheap.”

Jin sniffed the liquid and took a sip. He looked vaguely offended but went back for another.

“Not so bad for cheap wine, huh?” You said, taking a sip of yours. 

“You two need to accompany me on a wine tasting some time. “ Jin chided. However, he made no attempt to sit the glass down. He walked into the living room and sat down on the pink loveseat.

You loitered in between the kitchen and living room, uncertain of where to go. Red wine plus white couches seemed like a terrible idea; you should have brought vodka. 

“Come on over,” Jin waved. “Don’t worry, if you spill the wine I’ll make Yoongi buy me a new couch.”

Yoongi looked over at Jin in slow motion, processing what had just been said. “I do like this couch actually.” He bounced up and down lightly on the white sofa. “Come over here, spill the wine, and then Jin will give it to me. We’ll just throw a blanket over the stains.” He licked his lips quickly trying to hide the smile growing on his lips.

Jin slapped his knee, laughing. “Nice try Yoongi.”

Oh my god. Were they besties now? You pondered as you walked over and sat on the white couch, between Yoongi and Jin.  “You two have had quite the afternoon it seems. Who won the game?”

“LA.” Yoongi said stretching, the tiniest bit of his tummy showing, as his shirt pulled up. 

“It went by fast,” Jin added as he scrolled through his phone. “It was at the Staples Center. You’ve been to LA, right Yoongi?”

“Yeah,” Yoongi responded boredly.

“Really? What for?” You asked, excitedly, turning towards him.

He rubbed the back of his neck. “It’s not a big deal. I went out there for a collaboration and did some radio interviews.” 

“Agust D!” Jin hyped out of nowhere, causing you to laugh. “Have you ever been to the US?” Jin asked you.

You snorted, “Uh, no. Do I look like I’ve ever traveled anywhere?” You sipped your cat wine for emphasis. 

“You’ll get there someday,” You heard Yoongi say quietly. You didn't think Jin heard. You smiled and looked over at Yoongi who was now looking down at his hands.

“There’s a big trip to Japan in the Spring. You’ll probably go along, right?” Jin commented.  

You raised your eyebrows, “I don’t know. Am I?” You asked Yoongi

He smirked, “I don’t think I’ll fire you between now and then so yeah.” 

“You’re so mean!” You teased and playfully shoved his arm.

Jin laughed. “I’m staaaaaarving. When will the food be here?” Jin asked, dramatically draping his lanky body over the side of the loveseat. 

You picked up your phone to check the app. “They just turned down the street, I’ll go meet them at the security desk,” You said and started to stand up. 

“No, no. I’ll get it. You two are my guests.” Jin got up decisively. “Text me the order so I can double check it before they leave.” He headed towards the door before you could argue. You sat back down and texted him the information before placing your phone back down on the coffee table.

“You know you’re going, right?” You heard Yoongi say.

“Huh?” You asked, looking over.

“To Japan. I mean, I guess if you want to.” He clarified.

You smirked, “Oh yeah? You sure you’re not going to fire me between now and then?”

“And go through an interview process all over again?” He asked, sounding exasperated.  “No. That would be way too much work.” 

You pouted. He would always say the sweetest things and then follow them up with smart ass comments. It usually didn’t bother you; you were similar. But for some reason, just now, it did.

“What? You don’t want to go?” He asked, noting your change in demeanor.

You exhaled slowly. “That’s not it.” You shook your head, shaking your feelings away. “I look forward to it. Like I said, I haven’t been anywhere.”

“YN, you know I’m not actually going to fire you, right?” He asked, quite seriously.

You scoffed, “Yeah. Don’t worry. I’m sure you don’t want to have to deal with your phone ringing in your office again or making your own coffee.”

Yoongi winced slightly. He sipped the whiskey and thought for a few seconds. “Are you mad at me?”

“No,” you answered too quickly. 

Yoongi looked at you. “I didn’t do anything.”

“I know.” You uncrossed your legs, “I’m not mad.”

Yoongi eyed you suspiciously. 

“I'm fine. Really. I'm looking forward to going. I'm just tired." You lied. 

He finished off his drink and  stood up.  He stretched a bit and then walked over to the kitchen, pouring another drink. 

"Rotate with water, you have a photoshoot tomorrow." You yelled. 

Yoongi looked like he was going to say something, but decided against it and got himself a bottle of water from the refrigerator. He took a few sips and then walked back over to the couch. 

He sat down, staring at you." Go on. "

You laughed awkwardly,  " 'go on' what?" 

"Drunk Yoongi can't lie. What do you want to know?" 

You pursed your lips, "ahhh I should have made a list. I'm terribly unprepared for this." 

Yoongi took another sip, "Really? Can't think of anything?" 

You started to blush slightly. You could think of lots of things to ask. None of which seemed like a great idea. "It seems like you want me to ask you questions." you tucked a foot underneath your body. 

Yoongi shrugged. "I don't know. I'm feeling more relaxed today than I have in a long time. Not just the whiskey. Just the hanging out. Doing normal shit. You know?" 

"I do. I'm glad you and Jin are becoming friends." 

Yoongi sat still for a moment thinking, "Yeah. I guess we are." 

You smiled and grabbed your glass. 

"And you. I like hanging out with you too."  He added quietly.

"Thanks. I don't even feel like the help most of the time," You quipped. Which was unfair. You knew. You were literally an employee. 

He made a whooshing sound through his teeth, “Ah. There it is.” He gestured towards you. 

“What?” You asked.

Yoongi cleared his throat and sat the glass down. “You know I like hanging out with you, I just said it. But you are technically my employee. Why get mad about it?” He shrugged.

“That’s not what I’m mad about.” You shook your head. 

“So you are mad?” 

Dammit. “Ughhh Yoongi, no. I’m not mad. I just…” You ran a hand through your hair trying how best to explain yourself.  “It’s dumb. Anyways, didn’t you also hire me to be your girlfriend?”

Yoongi bit back his immediate answer. He was drunk enough to have fun and let loose, not drunk enough to violate an NDA. He shrugged. “Yeah. Ok. So what. You want to go on a date or something? I told you, I don’t have time to go on dates. You’ve seen my schedule. Besides. I’m taking you to the auction.”

You scowled. “That’s a work function, I’m going as your assistant.”

Yoongi clicked his tongue, “I was taking you as my date. To clarify. Do you think anyone else invited their PA?”

“You didn’t ask me like I was your date,” you countered. 

Yoongi raised his eyebrows at you, “Seriously? That’s what you’re upset about?”

“No...maybe. I don’t know. It’s dumb. Don’t worry about it.” You stood up to go refill your glass and to give you a break from this conversation. You had planned to come over here and have fun, not confess to your boss and whine about your relationship status.

Yoongi grabbed your wrist as you started to walk past him. You sighed, “What? I don’t want to talk about my feelings anymore. I don’t want to be analyzed.”

“Will you go to the Auction with me as my date?” Yoongi asked. Taking a deep steadying breath, he continued, “Not as a work thing. Me taking you, as my date.” 

You looked down at him. He was making eye contact with the coffee table and his cheeks were bright red, causing you to smile a little. Shy boy. “Yes. I’d like that.”  You replied. He gently let go of your wrist. You continued on your trajectory to the kitchen. NEXT CHAPTER @lidda​  @anpanman-sonyeondan​   @firefairy1​  @cuteipat​  @sugaslittlekookies​  @janeelizabeth1216 @deeepvibes​ @gxldenhunny​ @livelyjay​ @bobbyboops​ @honeysunandsoil​ @deathkat657​ @niniita-ah​ @min-yus​ @or-worse-expelled7​ @black-rose-29​ @storms-and-stars-blog​

[clare-with-no-i]

⭐️ ibibib or bust bestie tell us all abt it xoxo quibblah

ok bestie @thequibblah i know u sent this ask like a month ago and by now have forgotten u sent it. i also know that ur asleep rn. but i'm listening to the playlist and thus in the it burns it blinds it blisters mood, so…director's cut!

(discussion of explicit material under the cut. that means no one under 18 and also not my sister who is banned from reading any of my E stuff. so. don't u fuckin dare dude i s2g)

edit: wow this got SO fucking long. i feel like i should apologize, idk why, but wow i have chronic not-shutting-up disease

so, i've talked roughly four thousand times about how Anne Carson's poem "Glass, Irony, and God" inspired the piece, but for all those who don't know, that's where the title comes from. the poem goes thus:

"I am talking about evil.

it blooms.

it eats.

it grins."

i mean. come ON!!!!!!!

anyway.

from a stylistic standpoint, I wanted this entire piece to be much more active and to-the-point. the sentences are short and brusque; lots of verbs, lots of action words. Lily's narration relies on things like i need and he needs and i give and he takes from me, which is all stuff that makes me enjoy writing established relationship smut as opposed to a new couple or a hook-up - I wanted the communication to be so well-established as to be nearly implicit. I wanted looks and movements to communicate feeling almost in equal measure as spoken dialogue.

the line:

I want him to burn me tonight, just a little. So the heat stays long after I have to leave him. I want the pain of it.

pretty much sets the entire tone for the piece, IMHO. you have Lily directly articulating to reader that she not only wants him sexually, but she wants him in a way that is not loving or gentle; she is quite literally asking for some level of pain - but in a controlled, heavily discussed setting. sex, for a lot of people, is a way of working through real-life conflicts in a simulated setting and seeking emotional catharsis - that's what I wanted her to be seeking here.

My knees are pulled up, halfway to my chest, far enough away that it takes some effort not to let them fall down onto the duvet. I don’t want them to, though—I want him to see the outside of my thighs, the way his tee shirt fits me poorly, too large by half, pooling at my hips. I want him to wonder what it’s hiding underneath. I know he will.

I loved this line. it's kind of hard to explain why - maybe just that it interacts with Lily's physicality as a participant in this moment as much as it does her unspoken desires, what she wants from James. I loved writing the line about how it took effort not to let her legs straighten and fall, because it felt like such a line that everyone could picture. I actually pulled my knees up and let them fall a few times (I was sitting on my floor the whole time while I wrote this, no idea why) and just being able to match the physical sensation of keeping them up like that like she was -- possibly to look appealing, like she describes, but also because it's a point of focus for her, something she can direct energy toward -- was really engaging for me while writing.

Three missions’ worth of separation, he prescribed. I’m to leave in the morning. Scouting in Ashford. Could be boring, could be deadly. I never really know.

fun fact! I've been to Ashford before. it's in southeast England. there's a shopping mall there. it's nice.

I love him messily, and with poor posture. I curl into it. I let it curve my spine. I cannot stand straight with it sitting on my neck, pushing down between the blades of my shoulders; it is heavy and soft and I feel it in every muscle, like the press of sheets on a sweat-slick body.

it's becoming increasingly apparent to me how much of my stories I base in sensations of the body. but yeah. loved writing this, editing it; it took about four iterations of this line to get here. I love the idea that, yes, this love Lily has for him is beautiful and kind and soft, but it's also heavy, leaden; it is, in some ways, constantly weighing her down. she is different because of it. not that that's bad! but in wartime, it must be cumbersome.

“Maybe I’ll do it,” he mumbles, if not to me, then maybe to whatever’s building in his chest; whatever angry beast needs placation. “Maybe I’ll kill Moody and take you somewhere. Just the two of us.”

This, some version of humor that’s only developed between us in the past few months. Maybe I’ll just kill them and be done with it. Maybe we’ll run away. It’s angry and mean—not something we would have said a few months ago. Not something James, especially, would ever say.

But he needs to say it now, to exorcise these thoughts from his body, and for him, I’ll be priest and sinner at once—grant him absolution, catch him in his fall from grace; clutch his hand as I tumble down beside him.

so, this is probably the most bleak I'll get in terms of James characterization - I mean, for fuck's sake, the guy's considering murdering his commander!! but it's another testament to the level of communication that is present and intrinsic to his and Lily's relationship (in my hc, as i'm sure many people's) that it's immediately clear that he won't. that he's more commenting on the futility of the situation.

also, that last part is just…wow religious imagery! in a sex fic?? who am I, hozier????

His turn to whine. “You’re so—” he cuts himself off brokenly, groaning, pressing his hips to the inside of my thigh. I can feel him hard through his boxers. He dips his fingers and curls, and, oh, God. The sound that leaves me cuts between us, high and razor-thin. He leans down to press his face into my neck. His fingers still moving.

“James,” I gasp, “It’s alright—you can just—”

“No,” he responds lowly to my collarbone. Whatever part of me can bristle does so. No?

James Potter, who literally verbally rejects the idea of not giving his wife an orgasm

In silent rebellion against his words and my reaction to them, I reach one hand down, sliding below his chest to push at the fabric of his boxers. I want badly to touch him. I want him slack-jawed and near angry at his own arousal, the way I know he wants me. I want him in body and soul all the time, but for now, I want him so much in body I wonder if my soul is still there to pine for his.

I don't know why, but that last sentence was such an aha! moment for me. I'm hoping it comes across the way I intended: that Lily loves him "body and soul," but right now she is so much an inhabitant of her own body, so entrenched in this moment which feels so physical but also so much of an intentional departure from their typical dynamic (young in love married couple, hopeful even as soldiers), that she sort of has to wonder how much of her soul is left inside of her body, whether or not the two match up anymore. it was a fun play on the phrase "body and soul."

“James,” I breathe, and I know he can hear it, that little stutter in my voice, the way it’s unsteady in pitch. Good. I want him to confront what he does to me with every one of his senses. I want it to slide through his bloodstream. “It’s so—I’m close, I’m close…”

He knows, of course he knows, but he still swears when I say it, like it was something he’d been imagining until I confirmed it out loud. His fingers keep their pace, and he raises himself up on his other palm, his arm shaking with the effort of holding him aloft. But he wants to watch me, he said. And he’s always been one to keep his word.

there's a very curious sort of intermingling of pleasure and pain here, which I wanted to play with - his arm shaking with effort, the way her voice breaks. and then, further, the fact that these are both results of internal intentions on both of their parts: Lily, making a concerted effort to show James how much he's affecting her; James, putting himself under strain because he wants to watch her.

“Tell me,” I gasp, and I force my gaze onto his, watch as he processes the words. “Tell me to, please, James.”

I feel him jolt forward against my hip like he’s been hexed. He lets out a cutting hiss from between his teeth. It nearly sounds as if I’ve offended him.

first of all, Bad Bitch Lily Evans, literally breaking her man's brain like that.

second of all, this is one of multiple lines with something like "it nearly sounds as if I've offended him" or "he nearly looks in pain" or something like that. I wanted that to have the underlying implication of, you would think that unless you knew him as well as I do; I see this expression for what it is.

Once again—a third, pathetic time—I hear myself saying: “I don’t want to go.” It’s just as true as it was when he got here, and maybe a little bit more painful now.

this whole story is such a play on Lily's intentionality: pretty much everything she does or says has a reason to it, has a reaction in James that she wants to provoke. but I kind of wanted them to vacillate between this intentionality and getting lost in each other (corny I know), but then being pulled back by things like the third "I don't want to go." It's a reminder not only that she's leaving, but that she has a vision for how she wants this night to go.

“Hi, there,” I whisper, because I can feel the anger in him again, the howling coming from inside his chest. The beast in there he cages up.

“Hi, baby,” he whispers back, trying so hard for tenderness. It makes me ache. It makes me miss him, already.

this is, quite literally, the first time they actually greet each other. two-thirds of the story through.

--

one last thing, I guess: I reiterate two of the three verbs from the title ("Burn, Blind, Blister") throughout the latter part of the story, in order.

first: burn

Burn me, I think, swiftly, put a mark below my skin. Leave your warmth with me, and I promise I’ll take it with care.

second: blind

Part of me wants to go blind with this feeling, so that he will be the last thing I ever see, the final image imprinted upon my brain. Messy black hair. Hazel eyes. Head tilted back in pleasure he’s taking from me.

I'm not sure why I did this! I remember being conscious of it, and that I wanted to work "blister" in there, but I didn't really have a place for it, lol.

--

I guess with this piece I wanted to try and get back into explicit work, but I really wanted it to be emotion-driven (god not that I dislike or have anything against pure smut, I think we all know) and more communicative than, like, sexy. I honestly barely think this counts as smut?? Like it's not really that horny of a piece, it's more, uh, sad. which is cool. lol

ok love u bestie if you read all of this...you deserve some sort of award

send me a ⭐️and the name of a story to get a director's cut!

[nottheheadshaker]

I asked @coffeefordage for some nielan prompts and got several good ones. Here's a modern AU drunk (but not clingy, sorry) Lan Xichen meeting Nie Mingjue for the first time, with background wangxian. Is this a meet-cute? A meet-drunk? idk. Enjoy.

This is my first Untamed fic. Only time will tell if this is a good idea. (Also on AO3)

Nie Mingjue took a sip of his drink, wincing as his eardrums were assaulted by noise that some people (Huaisang) considered to be music. He didn’t want to be here, and he was pretty sure Huaisang didn’t really want him to be here either, despite all of his wide-eyed pleas for Mingjue to accompany him. How else could Mingjue explain his little brother’s disappearance as soon as they walked through the door of the club? If this was how Huaisang wanted to spend time with him, Mingjue could be doing it from home. His ears would certainly be happier for it.

He lifted his glass again, preparing to down the rest of his drink so he could leave.

“Hi,” a cheerful and somewhat breathless voice said from behind him.

Mingjue turned, a polite greeting-slash-brush off on his lips, only to have the breath knocked right out of him at the sight of the most beautiful man he had ever seen. He was smiling at Mingjue as if Mingjue was the source of all of the world’s joy. The stranger was tall and elegant, a delicate pink flush spreading along his perfect cheekbones. He was wearing a pale blue and white outfit that looked like it came out of one of Hauisang’s magazines. Not exactly a clubbing outfit, based on Huaisang’s strong - and often-shared - opinions about fashion. The man was stunning in it (and out of it, I bet, Mingjue’s brain whispered), so Huaisang would probably forgive the transgression.

“Oh,” the beautiful stranger said, “you’re even more handsome up close! Wait here, please.”

Before Mingjue could remember how to form words, the man disappeared back into the crowd. Mingjue looked down at his drink. He still had just about half of it left, so he probably wasn’t experiencing an alcohol-induced delusion. Mingjue was still puzzling over the encounter when the man returned.

“Hi,” he said again, his smile just as bright. He was looking expectantly at Mingjue.

Mingjue blinked. “Hi,” he managed to say. His throat felt incredibly dry. He took a large gulp of his drink.The burn of the alcohol did nothing to help his composure.

"What's your name? It wouldn't be polite for me to call you Handsome Stranger." The man's smile was so blinding, it took Mingjue a minute to understand what he'd just said.

He couldn’t let this opportunity pass. He gave the man a once-over to buy himself a little more recovery time - a mistake that only made it harder to think - then said gruffly, “I’m Nie Mingue.”

“My name is Lan Xichen, but you can call me yours.”

Mingjue downed the rest of his drink. What the fuck? The most beautiful man in the world was using a pick-up line? On him? How was he supposed to respond to that? Say something, he told himself, even if it’s stupid. “I’ll be sure to remember that.”

Impossibly, Lan Xichen’s smile got bigger. He looked over Mingjue’s shoulder and raised his hand in a thumbs-up gesture. Mingjue followed his gaze and found a pair of men watching them from a nearby table. One of them was beaming at them, returning Lan Xichen’s thumbs-up enthusiastically. The other man looked almost exactly like Lan Xichen, minus the bright smile. Was he glaring at Mingjue, or was that just his face?

“My brother and his boyfriend,” Lan Xichen said, drawing Mingjue’s attention back to him. “A-Xian has so many pick-up lines, so he gave me one for you!”

He was barely keeping up with what was happening, but he tried for an intelligent response. “That was nice of him.”

“Yes,” Lan Xichen nodded happily. “He was sad he doesn't get to use them anymore. He said I should get to have some fun with them, at least.”

A quick glance back at the other men showed one of them - the one he assumed was Lan Xichen’s brother - pulling the other up out of his seat. They wrapped their arms around each other and started swaying to music only they could hear. They certainly weren’t dancing to the music that was actually playing. Huaisang was standing nearby. He quickly fled when he noticed Mingjue looking at him. Mingjue’s eyes narrowed. What was Huaisang up to?

“Oh, Huaisang left again,” Lan Xichen said, sounding disappointed. “I have to thank him. He asked me to get him another drink, and that meant I could get a better look at you.” His eyes widened. “I forgot Huaisang’s drink!”

“I don’t think Huaisang will mind. I’m sure he’s had more than enough,” Mingjue said quickly. He had an idea what Huaisang was up to now, but he couldn’t bring himself to care this time. “How do you know him?”

“He’s A-Xian’s friend.” Lan Xichen’s brow furrowed in thought. “Or possibly a friend of a friend? I just met him last week, in this very club. It’s nice here! A bit loud though. So many people.” Lan Xichen looked around, taking in the dancing bodies that surrounded them. “Do you know Huaisang? Is he your boyfriend?” Lan Xichen’s smile dimmed, fading into a politely fake copy. Mingjue didn’t like it.

“He’s my brother.” He thought Lan Xichen might be a little drunk.

“That’s wonderful!” His true smile returning, Lan Xichen sat down on the stool next to him and leaned toward him. “Do you have a boyfriend? A girlfriend?”

“Neither.” Although if Lan Xichen was still interesting - and interested - when he was sober, Mingjue was willing to change that.

Lan Xichen pulled his phone out of his pocket. “We should exchange numbers!” He poked and swiped at the screen a few times before finally exclaiming, “Got it! Here.” He thrust the phone at Mingjue.

This probably wasn’t how things like this were supposed to go - who handed their phone to a complete stranger? - but Mingjue was done questioning anything Lan Xichen said or did tonight. He sent a text to himself and then saved his number in Lan Xichen’s contact list as ‘Nie Mingjue - Single’.

As soon as Lan Xichen took his phone back, he took a picture of himself with the same bright smile that had short-circuited Mingjue’s brain earlier. “So you don’t forget who I am,” Lan Xichen said as he tapped away on his phone. Mingjue’s own phone buzzed with a notification.

“No danger of that,” he said, but he was quick to take out his phone and save Lan Xichen’s number in his contacts.

“Now you send one to me!”

Mingjue did not like having his picture taken and he really did not like taking selfies, but he didn’t hesitate to do as Lan Xichen asked. He tried to remember everything Huaisang always insisted on explaining about taking selfies, getting a good angle and adequate lighting. He even managed a natural-looking smile.

Lan Xichen gasped softly at him, then again after he received the picture of Mingjue. “So handsome! I love your dimples!” He gazed at the picture a little longer, then tucked his phone away and hopped off the barstool. “We should dance!”

Before Mingjue could decide if his dislike of club dancing was strong enough to withstand Lan Xichen’s radiance - he was beginning to suspect he could deny this man nothing - they were interrupted.

“Xichen-ge.” It was the brother’s boyfriend, the one with the unused pick-up lines. “Lan Zhan needs to go home."

“Time to sleep.” The brother - Lan Zhan, apparently - did look sleepy, his eyes almost half-closed. He tugged at his boyfriend’s arm and tried to pull him away, swaying a bit as he did.

“Didi!” Lan Xichen swept his brother up into an enthusiastic hug.

Lan Zhan submitted to the embrace, laying his head on Lan Xichen’s shoulder and closing his eyes. “Wei Ying too,” he said.

“A-Xian!” Lan Xichen pulled his brother’s boyfriend into the hug. The boyfriend went along with it, shrugging when he caught Mingjue’s eye. He wrapped his arms around both brothers.

“Time for all good Lans to go home and go to bed,” the boyfriend - Wei Ying? A-Xian? - said.

“Do we have to go?” Was Lan Xichen… pouting?

“What about your uncle? He’ll blame me for corrupting your morals!” Wei Ying pouted right back at Lan Xichen. Nie Mingjue had to look away before he started laughing at their antics.

“No.” Lan Zhan jerked upright from his doze on Lan Xichen’s shoulder and grabbed Wei Ying’s hand. “I will protect you.”

“Very well,” Lan Xichen said, a hint of a pout still on his face. “We’ll go now. We won’t give shufu any more reason to be mad at you.” He turned the two young men around and began herding them away. Mingjue tried not to let Lan Xichen’s abrupt departure bother him. Not even a goodbye?

“The door is this way, Xichen-ge,” Wei Ying said, steering the unsteady trio in the right direction.

As they drifted past him once more, Lan Xichen noticed him and pulled them all to a halt. “Nie Mingjue!” he cried, as if seeing him again after a long period of time. That damn smile was back. “I’m sorry, I have to go. Maybe we can dance next time?” Mingjue nodded dumbly. “I’ll text you! Or you can text me! Okay?”

Mingjue nodded again. The whole evening had taken on a surreal feel and he was starting to doubt the whole thing had happened, even as it was still happening.

“I’ll remind him,” Wei Ying said, giving them a wide smile. Lan Zhan glared and stalked away, pulling Wei Ying along with him. “Bye!” Wei Ying called over his shoulder.

“Goodbye, Nie Mingjue! It was nice to meet you!” Lan Xichen reached out and touched his hand briefly, then hurried away after his two companions.

Mingjue flexed his hand. The spot where Lan Xichen had touched him tingled like they were in some sappy romance. Hauisang could never learn of this.

As if summoned by the thought, Huaisang appeared at his side.

“Wei Wuxian was right, those Lans cannot hold their liquor. I think they had less than half a glass of beer between the two of them.” Hauisang tapped his chin with his fan.

“Wei Wuxian?”

“My new bestie. He was just here - the one wearing black.” Huaisang smiled brightly. “He’s fun.”

Wei Ying - Wei Wuxian, that explained why Lan Xichen called him A-Xian - had been wearing black, while Lan Zhan wore clothing similar to his brother. “I see. We weren’t properly introduced.”

“Wei Wuxian isn’t a proper introduction sort of person, he won’t care. Now Lan Xichen.” Huaisang went back to tapping his chin. “Lan Xichen is definitely a proper introduction sort of person, wouldn’t you say?”

“Yes.” His brother was definitely up to something. “He did properly introduce himself, which is why I even know who you are talking about right now.”

“He really is a delicious looking man, isn’t he? And he’s so nice. Definitely boyfriend material.”

Mingjue didn’t answer. Was Huaisang interested in Lan Xichen? Lan Xichen had just been hitting on Mingjue. He should tell Huaisang, let him down gently before he got invested, but that still very firmly put Lan Xichen out of Mingjue’s reach. Bro code or whatever, there was no way Mingjue would hurt Huaisang like that. Maybe in a few years, after Huaisang had moved on? Who was he kidding, there was no way someone like Lan Xichen would stay single that long.

Huaisang smacked him on the arm with his fan. “Silly da-ge, for you, not me! He’s not my type.”

Since Huaisang said that about every person ever, Mingjue wasn’t sure what his brother’s type was. Did he even have a type? Would he tell Mingjue if he did? He wished Huaisang didn’t feel like he had to protect Mingjue from whatever it was he thought he was protecting him from. Who was the big brother around here?

...wait.

“For me?”

“Why do you think I sent him over here?”

Mingjue did not know how to feel about that. Grateful for the roundabout introduction? Irritated at the meddling? Overwhelming love for his sneaky little brother? “I can manage my own affairs,” he finally grumbled.

“Of course you can,” Huaisang said with a soothing pat on his shoulder. “Buy me a drink, da-ge. Lan Xichen never brought the one I asked for.”

“You’ve had enough.”

“But da-geeeee-”

Mingjue ignored his brother’s whining - he had a lot of practice at it. Even Huaisang draping himself over his back and complaining directly in his ear could not change his mind. If Huaisang really wanted a drink, he could get his own.

His phone chimed a text notification at him. Lan Xichen was already texting him.

Our Lyft driver has such a nice car!!!

The text was accompanied by a slightly out of focus picture of a smiling Lan Xichen sitting in the back seat of a vehicle, with the top of his brother's head just visible on his shoulder. Very little of the car was showing.

Mingjue didn't bother to respond, but he couldn't help the fond smile that crossed his face. If this was Lan Xichen drunk, he couldn't wait to see what he was like sober. He was about to put his phone away when Huaisang grabbed it out of his hand.

"What's this?" Huaisang opened up the text app and stared at his most recent text. "You set his contact name as 'Yours'? Da-ge!"

Mingjue took his phone back and put it in his pocket. "What? He said I could."

[suspiciouslypinkrosegarden]

Pairing: Unknown (Saeran Choi) X Female Reader CRACK FIC

Description: You are a humble teenage bookworm, obsessed with the performer Lady Gaga and her catchy music. Or perhaps, it’s not her you’re obsessed with, but her back up dancer, Saeran. When your bestie Sasha offers you the chance to watch a performance front row, a chance encounter happens. Can you successfully woo this ̶s̶e̶x̶y̶ ̶b̶e̶a̶s̶t̶ handsome dancer? Or will your attempt to dress up lead to nothing at all.

This is in NO way shape or form to be taken seriously. It is supposed to be a funny parody of many Wattpad stories we may have read way back when. It is not targeting any one author and is entirely based on stereotypes and jokes made about old experiences.

Little warning: Some of the jokes made could be said to be 18+, but nothing is too over the top. The reader is described to be blond with blue eyes, etc., just following Wattpad stereotypes. All descriptions of the reader are for comedic purposes as well as the “authors notes”. The elixir is brought up at the end.

This fic contains and is based on a sketch done by my friend 🤎Melkinpump🤎, who you can find on tumblr here: https://melkinpump.tumblr.com/

——————————————————————

https://youtu.be/dQw4w9WgXcQ song from chapter 2!!!

CHAPTER ONE-

I woke up to see my beautiful turquoise bedroom shining in the sun. It was finally time, today I was going to a Lady Gaga concert. My gaze drifted to the Lady Gaga poster on my wall. But here’s the plot twist. I wasn’t in love with her, but him. The man in the back of the poster, Saeran, one of her favorite back up dancers. He was in all of her shows, and today I just had to seduce him best I could, which would be hard because I was such a nerd. I stared lovingly at his face behind hers, tongue sticking out with a blue color to it from the koolaid he had in his hand. It was pretty rock and roll epic. I sighed. Time to get dressed.

I followed the advice of my friend Sasha, and wore one of her tight black leather dresses. I’m not used to tight clothes, but she’s a seduction master with 10 boyfriends right now, so I’m listening. It hugged my 1 inch waist so tight I couldn’t breathe, and the cleavage showed almost my whole natural DD rack, but I guess it looks hot. This felt weird, so not like me who usually wears big sweaters and big jeans. Of course, I still need to wear my glasses or I can’t see shit. I took down my long, straight platinum blond hair out of my pony tail and brushed it. Lastly, I brushed my teeth incase we do make out.

Sasha arrived in her Jaguar car. She’s super rich unlike me. She yelled at me,

“Why aren’t you wearing makeup? Come here let’s fix you up!”

She put on a lot of my makeup for me, thick black eyeliner and bright red lipstick. I put back on my glasses when she was finished, and she smacked my hand.

“No! Guys don’t like girls who wear glasses, show off those pretty blue eyes!”

I sighed as now I’d be blind for the concert. But it’s ok, it’s all to win his heart. The devil with the white hair and man whore outfit he always wore. It was Lady Gaga’s thing to make him dress like that, I didn’t mind because he’s incredibly sexy in it.

I tried not to let my mind wander too much as Sasha drove us to the concert. I could not be nervous, and I definitely couldn’t allow him to see that I was actually just a little nerd girl. Tonight, I’m a sex kitten just for him. Sasha made sure of that.

END CHAPTER 1

HEY guys I hope you enjoyed chapter one :) chapter two is just down below and maybe you’ll finally get to kiss Saeran idk it’s not like I’m the author ;))

CHAPTER 2-

The concert began. And there he was, dancing so close to me as we had front row seats which Sasha’s rich dad paid for. I’m so lucky to have a rich bestie.

He rocked his hips to the beat, that pink leotard type outfit barely covering much. I could see his beautiful pecs through the heart in the center, shiny from his glistening sweat. Unless Lady Gaga told him to shine up with something, I wouldn’t put it past her.

@melkinpump

After a few minutes, my heart stopped beating. He noticed me! His aqua orbs met mine in the crowd, gazing into my soul with such a fiery passion as he danced, white locks stuck to his forehead with sweat. My friend nudged me, smiling. I couldn’t believe it. I smiled at him, and started singing the words to the song playing to pretend I was unphased.

And then, it happened. He kneeled down next to me, chains from his outfit clinking a little, leaning in with his hand cupping his ear to hear my voice. He then spoke, the tone surprising me as his voice was rather airy.

“I can’t hear you!”

I sang louder.

“You can be louder than that!”

He smirked at me teasingly. My heart was leaping sky high as I got even louder for him. I’d do anything for him.

Just then, he passed me his hand, offering to take me up on stage with him. I hesitantly took it, feeling its heat in mine as he pulled me up on stage next to him. It felt unreal!

“YOU GO GIRL WOOOOH!”, Sasha screamed.

Lady Gaga stopped then cued the next song as Saeran passed me a mic. The music started playing and I could feel my heart in my throat. I couldn’t let him know this confidence was all a fake to win him as I’m usually just a bookworm. I sang best I could, the song was a classic, “Poker Face” by Lady Gaga (link at the top). To my surprise, Saeran also took a mic. It was just the two of us singing, and the audience was in awe because it sounded so good. I didn’t even know I could sing because I never have before, but now I understand I have a hidden talent, and I feel more confident.

As the song wrapped up, he smiled at me and handed me a VIP backstage pass! I thanked him profusely as I got down from the stage, eliciting a wink. I can’t believe I’m going to get to see him backstage!

CHAPTER 3-

Hey guys :/ adult content warning !

Skip ahead to the end of the awesome concert and me and Sasha were heading backstage with my shiny, black VIP pass. It had a mint eye symbol on it which looked bitchin. The guard stopped Sasha from entering,

“Sorry, only that one is allowed by Mr. Saeran.”

Mr. Saeran? Now that’s hot. But I’m also sad because I want to take Sasha too because without her, I wouldn’t even be at this concert! Sasha winked at me,

“It’s ok girl, go live your dream. My dad’s rich so one of my boyfriends is Justin Beiber so I don’t need this anyways.”

“Thanks bestie.” I smiled at her, preparing myself to go meet Saeran and Lady Gaga alone.

I took in a deep breath, my exposed chest nice and puffed out to attract his attention because I know guys like boobs. Sasha told me that, I don’t know much about guys because I’m a nerd. But hopefully now I’d be his nerd.

The security guard led me to the back of the hall, opening the big door, revealing Saeran and Lady Gaga, standing and talking. I was in shock! They were both so hot in person! I am so lucky!

Their heads turned in my direction, Saeran hungrily licking his lips upon seeing me. I couldn’t get any redder!

Just then, Lady Gaga handed me some blue koolaid and told me to take a seat with a sweet smile. I smiled back and sat like she said. Lady Gaga spoke,

“Hello, it’s nice to meet you! You really grabbed my dancer’s attention here as well as mine and the crowds, and I instructed him to pick one lucky girl to meet with today. And here you are! With a singing voice like that, I want to know if you want to join us on tour!”

With that, I’m certain I stopped breathing. To work alongside Saeran AND Lady Gaga?! Incredible! I didn’t mind leaving my old life behind to be sexy and cool always like I was tonight, because at home I was nothing but a 16 year old boring book worm. I’d be happy to never see high school again, but I’d miss Sasha.

“Yes!” I squeaked happily.

“Good girl~” Saeran cooed. I wasn’t expecting him to call me that, and I blushed red to my ears.

“First, let’s finish that drink with a toast to you joining us!” Lady Gaga cheered.

“Ok! Cheers to our new pet here!”, Saeran said raising a glass too.

It’s weird that he called me pet, personally I think a little ominous. But it’s ok, he can call me as he likes.

As I tasted the koolaid, it was super bitter and burned my throat. Saeran and Lady Gaga smiled at me, and I smiled back, forcing myself to chug it as they watched eagerly. I then felt super dizzy and sick…what was this koolaid? As the room started spinning, I reached a hand to my head and winced. Saeran sat next to me and guided me to lean on him. Even though I felt odd, leaning on him still made my heart race.

He stroked my hair, whispering “good girl” once more. This was getting freaky. Did they drug me?

Before I could open my mouth to speak, Lady Gaga took off her crazy wig. I saw long blond curls fall down as she removed her wig cap. Within another second, she popped out colored contacts, revealing orbs as green as emeralds. That wasn’t Lady Gaga at all! It was a fraud! I gasped, but Saeran held me closer, telling me to remain quiet.

“Just as you’re thinking child, this isn’t a Lady Gaga concert at all, but a recruitment for our cult! I killed Lady Gaga long ago, and took her place. Saeran here is in charge of choosing one lucky person each show to join us, and with your voice you’ll make a great performer alongside us here at the Mint Eye!”

I was so angry and confused. What did she mean she killed Lady Gaga? And a cult? No way…

Saeran spoke to me again, “don’t worry little blondy, I chose you because you’ll be a great assistant for me with that voice. We have a lot of work to do, and lucky for you, since I can tell you like me, you get to work alongside me~”. He cackled and then crushed my phone with his bare hands.

I was horrified. I spoke softly, still feeling weird.

“Saeran…I thought you were a good person…I know you are…I love you…”

He seemed moved in those minty eyes, but wouldn’t tell it. His eyes were a tad watery as he scooped me up into his arms and cradled me close to his chest. My head rested on the open heart in his costume.

“I know, and that’s exactly why I chose you. I’ve been watching you for a long time, y/n. You look different without your glasses. But don’t worry, we have contacts for on stage.”

And with that he carried me to his room, and I prepared for my new life as a cultist.

END!!!!

A/N: Hey everyone thanks for reading <3 I wonder what Saeran and y/n are going to do in his room next 😳😜😎🍋!!?!! If I get 3 comments, I’ll write the next part :3 which will be rated 18+ though!!! I think you know why ;)))) !!! Pray for me 🙏 because I just broke my pelvis and I’m so sorry that 18+ part will be a little late because of it but I’ll write it in the hospital! Safe wishes 💋! Thanks for all the support!!!!

Fin! *takes a bow*

[self-proclaimed-chaotic-good]

Science & Faith | Carlton Drake x Reader (4/?)

Words: 1860

A/N: I wish I could add links to this post, but I'm afraid of it not showing up in tags like it had done several times before. The masterlist for this story should be pinned on my blog and my full masterlist is in my bio.

Warning: This whole chapter is set in an AU until the end, which leads to the end of The Invisible River Part One.

-

The Invisible River Part Two

- Alternate Universe One -

At the end of the conference, Tony managed to find Carlton in the lobby. He turned and opened his mouth at the same time as Tony.

“No, you go first,” Tony insisted.

“Have you-”

“No, I go first,” he interrupted, ignoring Carlton’s glare, “Have you noticed that Rolling Pin and Doctopus aren't here?”

Carlton sighed, pushing his frustrations down to address the situation. “Yeah, they seemed to have left half way through the conference.”

“Honestly, why even bother coming if you’re just going to leave anyways? The beginning part is always pointless, who comes just for that?”

“Maybe he had an emergency,” Carlton suggested.

Tony cleared his throat, looking around to see if there were any more people lingering in the lobby before pulling Carlton on the side. He brought up his watch and projected a surveillance camera, showing Spider-man swinging towards a large building.

“Know which building that is?” Tony said, pointing at it, “That’s a laboratory built under Fisk’s name. What do you think Spandex-man is doing there?”

“Why are you coming to me with this? Aren’t you Iron-man?” Carlton asked, already on the move to leave.

Tony frowned at him, blocking his escape. “Dude, don’t you wanna check it out? Be a hero for once? I know that you were keeping tabs on ol’ Kingpin for a while.”

“I am far from being a hero, Stark,” Carlton said tiredly, pushing past him. Tony sighed, turning to fall into step with him.

“And yet, look at me. We don’t exactly fit the golden boy Captain America role, but it’s good intentions that count, right?”

“My so-called good intentions got my fiance killed, Stark. Look into it with your spider friend if you’re itching for action. I’m not looking for redemption.”

“And yet, you followed me to my car,” Tony said.

Carlton blinked, finding that he was unconsciously following Tony’s lead and was now standing next to his red shiny sports car. Tony pulled out his sunglasses and smirked, climbing in.

“Well, get in, loser, we’re going crime-stopping.”

On the way to Fisk’s labs, Tony contacted Spider-man about any updates on Fisk’s or Doctor Octavius’s movements. He confirmed that they were both in the labs for the past several hours. From the activities that he had observed, they seemed to be building a large machine deep within the labs with power sources leading underground.

“So, we’re just gonna go without backup?” Carlton asked in disbelief.

“No,” Tony scoffed, “We are the backup.”

Carlton sputtered, gesturing to himself. “And what am I supposed to do?”

Tony sighed, digging around the back of his car for a box, unceremoniously tossing a watch at Carlton. He caught it, inspecting it closely before putting it on.

“One button has a taser, the other a communicator. There’s also a little thing I added to check the cameras in the area, then there’s the iron-glove with the same functions of the ones on my suit. Oh, also, a flashlight. Can’t forget that. Plays music, too, if you want. You’re a fellow genius, Drake, you’ll figure it out.” Tony patted his back. “Watch, we’re going to be besties once this is all over.”

They waited until nightfall to start moving. Spider-man updated them on Fisk’s whereabouts, saying that his car was driving away from the building. They all met up and readily agreed that this didn’t have to be a big issue that reached the news. Secrecy wasn’t exactly Tony’s style, but he could take it seriously when he needed to.

Spider-man swiftly subdued the security guards on patrol while Tony hacked into the cameras. One guard had slipped away from his post to check on the others. Carlton quickly lifted his watch and pressed a button, hoping that it was a taser. Bright light blinded the man, making him shrink away. Carlton used this to press another button, successfully tasing him. Tony looked down at the guard and nodded over to Spider-man. He quickly lifted the man and placed him with the others that were wrapped in webbing.

“There’s an elevator near here that goes below ground level,” Tony whispered, “Or we could go through the warehouse. It’s currently empty.”

Tony waved a security guard’s keycard over the reader and Spider-man headed in first. The other two crouched in the corner and watched through the camera on the masked hero, hoping to find something. The way down to the labs below ground went smoothly and it made them feel uneasy. Each floor was brightly lit and suspiciously empty. As he reached the lowest floor, Spider-man paused in his tracks.

“Someone’s here,” he muttered.

Tony activated his iron glove and readied to go in, eyeing the camera through Carlton’s watch. Spider-man entered a narrow hallway leading towards a single metal door. His spider-senses were off the charts as he approached, turning the knob slowly. It was unlocked.

The camera suddenly blurred, followed by a loud smack. A woman in a lab coat, eyes covered by goggles, and four metal arms stretched out from her back, stood in front of him. She smirked, one arm reaching over out of the camera’s view, before pulling back and revealing Spider-man’s mask clutched in its metal claws.

“Ah, that’s a no-no,” he warned.

“Such a young man,” she cooed, an arm holding him yanking him away from the wall and slammed him into a large chair in the room. Metal clamps held his arms and legs in place, rendering him incapacitated as she casually dragged an office chair over. “I’m sure you’re curious about what we’re doing here.”

“It’d be nice if you told me,” Spider-man said.

“I’ve seen the technology you use, so I think you’d appreciate what I’m about to tell you,” she said, standing up and approaching the wide window facing a massive chamber, a large machine in the middle. “Oh, where are my manners? I'm Doctor Olivia Octavius. My friends call me Liv, but my enemies- ” Her metal arms wriggled about, one reaching over to Spider-man to touch his head “- They call me Doc Ock.”

“Nice to meet you, I’m Spider-man.”

“Young man with manners. You see, Kingpin commissioned what I call a Super Collider.”

“A Super Collider?” His eyes drift towards the chamber, landing on the panel on the ceiling. Must be where the power source is. If he could just get to it… “And what does this Super Collider do?”

Tony tapped Carlton on the shoulder and they began to make their way down. Halfway down to the chamber, they started to hear footsteps. The guards were resuming their patrols. Carlton activated his iron glove, metal pieces extending from the watch to perfectly wrap around his hand, and the two scientists continued on with caution.

Doc Ock smirked at this question, turning back to her capture. “Since you came all this way, why don’t I show you what it does? It makes a magnificent light show. I’m sure you will love it.”

A few guards got in the way of Tony and Carlton’s descent, but they were swiftly taken care of and hidden. Just as they reached the narrow hallway that they saw through the camera, a booming whirring resounded from the room. They shared a panic look and rushed towards the door with their iron gloves ready.

They were met with the sight of a man that looked to be in his late twenties with ruffled brown hair wearing Spider-man’s suit. He looked to have been beaten around since that last time they had checked his camera. Tony shot a glare at the woman as her fingers fluttered over the control panel, unphased by their entrance.

“Curiosity killed the cat, fellas,” she commented as the roaring from the collider grew stronger. An atmospheric meter lowers down, a tiny light blinking.

“Stop the machine, Octopus!” Tony warned, aiming his iron glove at her.

“Or what?” She raised an eyebrow, making eye contact with him as her finger lowered towards a blinking button. “If you shoot, who knows what that will do to the machine. Could be interesting…”

A metal arm shot out before his glove could charge. He staggered back and shot out a beam, redirecting the arm and causing it to crash through the glass. She glared, whipping around to check on her machine while Tony rushed over to the revealed Spider-man.

“How you doin’, kid?” Tony whispered, releasing his limbs from the chair.

“Been better,” Peter grunted. “Is this a good time to tell you that my name’s Peter?”

“Why are you doing this?” Carlton demanded as an energy beam shot to the middle of the chamber.

“Carlton Drake,” she scoffed, turning to him, “Don’t you wish you had another chance to make things right? The choices we’re given are paths that lead to an endless possible points in our lives. Each path we choose to walk down opens up to new paths to choose from. Thus, creating- “

“Alternate realities,” Carlton finished.

Doc Ock nodded. “What if you had chosen to listen to your dear (Y/n)- “

“Don’t you dare bring them up! I made my choice and I’m living with it.”

“But what if you have access to that other choice. You can go to another reality where you’re living happily with (Y/n).”

Carlton’s eyes narrowed. “Is this why Fisk wanted you to build this?”

She shrugged. “Well, it’s something I’ve always wanted to tap into, but to have a desperate millionaire fund my little project is always a treat.” She flinched and a metal arm shot out towards the door where Tony was escaping with Peter. “You’re gonna miss the show.”

The air in the chamber began to warp, gradually forming into a portal. Doc Ock moved to give the machine more power before being intercepted by a spider web shooting out from Peter. Chaos erupted in the room, a blur of spider webs, energy beams, and metal arms flying around. The lights began to flicker, drawing their attention back to the machine that was almost at maximum power. Carlton attempted to disengage from the fight to stop the machine when one of Doc Ock’s arms swung out and knocked him out of the window.

“No!” Peter shouted, jumping to catch Carlton as he got sucked into the growing portal.

“You’re not going anywhere!” Doc Ock growled, another arm grabbing Peter and slamming him through the door.

Carlton felt the Collider pull him in. It wasn’t like a vacuum, but more like being swept away by an invisible river. He aimed his iron glove towards the ceiling panel to shut it down, then froze as he risked a glance into the portal. He saw a flash of your face, alive and happy.

Suddenly, the portal grew rapidly in an unstable manner and he could just see Doc Ock through the shatter glass with a gleeful grin on her face, a fist gripping onto a lever as she increased the power to its maximum capacity, lights flickering and surging around her. An energy beam from Tony’s iron glove shot out towards the panel before the portal swallowed Carlton completely, his body feeling as if swept away by an invisible river.

[frogtanii]

HI BESTIIIIIIIIIIIIEEEEEEEEE

its 🔮 anon here!

it takes a lot of things for me to loathe a character, and even more to loathe a character i adore, so CONGRATULATIONS FROGGY ✨i now want to shove osamu's head against a brick wall✨

(of course i've been an atsumu ghorl this whole time, idk what you're talking about, osamu who? 🤨)

yachi already done with everyone's bs and its only been 4 chapters is funny to me HAHAHAHAHA

meiko shove your fake-ness up your ass, thank you.

osamu shut the f up please you embarrassing yourself-

ALSO PLEASE TELL ME WHAT OSAMU'S NICKNAME WOULD BE FOR Y/N AND TELL ME IT ISNT PRINCESS OR I WILL SLICE OFF HIS FAMILY JEWELS I DONT CARE ANYMORE.

i don't know what to tell you miss ma'am, cuz i've been getting more and more into stories where the mc or y/n is more raw and relatable, and THIS REALLY HITS THE SPOT. lowkey i get sad when people talk bad about self-insert stories or y/n stories and then the reason they do is because of some cliche element majority or a large chunk of writers already dropped.

self insert fanfics are a comfort to me? in a way? idk how to explain it, cuz it sounds weird when i try typing it out loud- but HEAR ME OUT FIRST OKIE? most fics ive read are oneshots or stories that dont require much assessing or reflecting of a situation because most have similar plots aknxjdbdj i know i sound awful akdnidjd and i kind of know what to expect.

on the other hand, the ones written more realistically, like this one, wherein y/n isnt a simp right off the bat of the guys asking for forgiveness, y/n has her great moments and not so pleasant moments, with her inner turmoil and a d e e p dive into theirs and the guys character and providing new insight is where i kinda insert myself kandhsnjs. though y/n doesnt always do what i would do, reading more realistic self inserts help put things into perspective to me. they help me actually think about what i would do in a situation like that and eventually apply what i decided on later in life. like toxic friendships and relationships-

LOWKEY THESE ALSO MAKE ME EVEN SCARED-ER OF MY FEELINGS BECAUSE I KNOW I WOULDNT BE ABLE TO DO WHAT THE BADASS Y/NS DO and i would let whatever toxicity in a relationship back into my life like the idiot i am.

a n y w a y s

im listening to melanie martinez at the moment, and i thought of some.... dark-ish? ideas.

t/w: mentions of blood, murder.

pre-poker face events.

meiko snapped, killed y/n in cold blood with a knife. the guys find her, they help her cover up the murder. they comfort her. kenma or bokuto give in first, they tell the police. the image of y/ns body in a pool of blood was too much, the nightmares got to them.

OR MEIKO AND Y/N WITH "PACIFY HER". like meiko lowkey wanting atsumu and hating that y/n had all his attention, so she sends osamu to get rid of y/n.

or y/n who is also a power hungry woman who wanted to dominate the hyper house and all she needed left was osamu, and he was very much blinded by meiko so y/n sends suga to get rid of meiko (under the pretense for him to get revenge for what she did to him, but really it was so she could get osamu alone.)

lastly-

YOU KNOW WHAT THIS IS:

HAVE YOU HAD YOUR 8 GLASSES OF WATER YET? you gotta wash out those toxins and negativity outta your body!

HAVE YOU HAD A FULL MEAL? so you have energy to deal with the bs the world decides to ungeacefully drop on you-

SOME SLEEP? AT LEAST 8 HOURS OF IT? i know you didnt when i asked you in an ask a few days ago 🤨.

SENDS YOU 😤AGGRESSIVE😤AFFECTION😤 AND BADDIE ENERGY ➖👄➖🙏AND GOOD VIBES🙏➖👄➖

much love 💘

p.s. i tagged you in the masterlist of the series i told you about! idk if the notif got through? but have a great day bby!

HEY BESTIE <3333 oh n osamu’s nickname for yn would be cheeks or baby / doll??? don’t ask LMFAO alsoooo i entirely agree abt self inserts!!! m a big ol fan aksjks OHHOHH i love melanie n ur lil drabble ideas are so sick omggg (pps i didn’t see it!! maybe try it again?)

[evilwerewolves2]

Child’s Play Ch.2

~Making headlines~

At first everything was completely fine. You Tendou and Ushijima all went back more or less to how things were. That is until the mafia family Tendou was a part of made headlines. You and Iji watched the news together on that night. Ten was supposed to be there and watch a movie with you two and you hadn't received so much as a text explaining why he wasn't there yet. Iji got up to make popcorn and some instant ramen while you waited on Ten. He hadn't realized you switched the channel.

"Mixed feelings tonight as several bodies were found" ~Male News Reporter

"Why mixed feelings that's horrible" ~Female News Reporter

"Tonight several bodies were found most have been identified as members of the group known as the Jade Dragons" ~Male News Reporter

The mention of the name "Jade Dragons" was more than enough to catch Iji's attention.

"There has been one unidentifiable body found that has yet to be claimed but eye witnesses say that the groups leader Takashi Utsui was at the hotel when it was brutally attacked by the enemy Mafia of the Dragons the Ruby Raijū  also known by the name of Red Lightning while Utsui was a major donator to most all charities in our area nobody has seen or heard from Utsui since the raid this morning " ~Male News Reporter

"Now to our anonymous reporter who is on the scene right this second. How's it looking over there? " ~Male News Reporter

"Word on the street is that Red Lightning specifically raided the building where many died to get Utsui. God that is the last time I'm going to say that name." ~Anonymous Reporter

"Why is that?" ~Male News Reporter

"Word on the street is that the deceased Mafioso has a son who is known to be more terrifying than his father. He is also known for excessive revenge and it is believed that anyone who utters his name will likely meet a much worse fate than his father..." ~Anonymous Reporter

You've never been so terrified as you turn of the TV to face Ushijima. His eyes fixed on the TV eyes seething with rage and grief. He looks at you and seems to get more upset by the fear he can see in your eyes. You want to say it but don't want to meet your end the way the reporter said but you knew. Utsui is his fathers name.

~Blinded~

completely frozen in fear you kept eye contact for what seemed like an eternity. He spoke first.

"What." ~Ushijima

you instantly looked at the floor as you heard his footsteps approaching you on the couch. With each step he took your life seemed to flash before your eyes. he took a step in front of you and grabbed your face to make you look at him.

"What." ~Ushijima

you took a rushed breath to counter the fear in your heart but you choked and couldn't say anything.

"Why are you looking at me like that Y/N." ~Ushijima boomed

as you caught your breath you stammered.

"N.n..no.no reason s.s...ssorryy Us.ush...ushijima"

"Why so formal Y/N what happened to 'Iji'." ~Ushijima

Ushijima said those words looking into your soul getting so aggravated at the fear he saw swelling up inside his childhood best friend. The fear he knew was stemming from him. Hearing you say his full last name instead of the nickname you gave him as a kid was only confirmation, You knew. you knew he was now the leader of the dragons. You knew he was the one the anonymous reporter was talking about. 'anonymous reporter'

"tch I'll have his fucking head talking about me like that" ~Ushijima in his mind

Ushijima had become lost in thought, blinded by rage and the only thing that brought him out of it was your choking and pleading. in between breaths you managed to shout out.

"Please *Chokes* P..lease d.don't kill me I'm sorry!" ~Y/N

kill you? Why would he kill you? As he looked at you confused he realized his hand was crushing your throat. Your face completely purple as he let go of you. Tossing you to the floor by accident.

"Fuck. FUCK. Please. Please don't be scared of me. FUCK." ~Ushijima

you had just watched him hit himself in the head as he walked into the bathroom. You didn't know why but the only thought in your mind was "RUN" despite the only other thought you could come across in your mind you did run even if you thought it could make things worse.

~Cat and Mouse~

"FUCK!!" ~Ushijima

so many thoughts raced through Ushijima's head. Maybe I can convince her I'm not dangerous. No I almost choked her out she'd never believe that. You heard glass shatter and became so terrified that any doubt about what you were doing had completely vanished you grabbed your bag you had full of clothes money and some snacks. You'd lived on the street once before you could do it again. Fuck what if she runs from me. No no. She'd never run. Would she? as he headed back towards the door you had made your rushed escape out of your apartment and was three blocks down. Its a miracle what adrenaline can do. In your hurry you had left the door open.

"Please. Please tell me you didn't." ~Ushijima

his fists made contact with the kitchen counter his frustration only fueling his rage at this point. He couldn't believe it. He couldn't believe YOU. YOU RAN FROM HIM?!?! HE PAYED YOUR DEBT, HE SAVED YOUR LIFE, YOU OWED HIM! You owed him. You were still in debt to him by well over 900k 'credits'. He could make his underdogs find you. He could find you. In his rage he seemed to forget his pull with both the dragons and his physical body in general. If. No when he figures out  where you went he could easily catch you. He hadn't played volleyball since highschool but he was still very physically fit. You could never outrun him. He didn't know why but out of everything that had happened on that night with him finding out about his father among other things that had been bothering him in school the worst thing was you running. Why did you run. You told him you'd never leave again. You kissed him on the first day you came back. Why did you run?

He rushed out of your house slamming the door. He saw the hobo you often gave food and money and asked him a question.

"Where'd she go. I know you saw her" ~Ushijima

"I forgot maybe I could be persuaded to remember though" ~Hobo

he hated using his name as leverage but he HAD to. He NEEDED to find you

"Ushijima ring any bells? Here's your damn persuasion how about you don't end up the next one on the news." ~Ushijima

The hobo froze in fear for a second. It reminded Ushijima of the look you gave him. He HATED that look.

"She ran towards the college said she needed something. I had no idea you were." ~Hobo

Ushijima shot a terrifying glance at the hobo and said sharply.

"Thanks" ~Ushijima

and with that took off running towards the school. He knew you weren't dumb enough to take the obvious route when running away. so he took the alleys and caught a glimpse of you about a mile out. "How'd you get so far so quickly?!" he thought to himself "It's only been ten minutes" as he checked the clock he realized it'd been two whole hours since he noticed the door was hastily left open. "What the fuck" why did he see someone touching you.

It's been two hours, you're pretty far away from Ushijima when you run into Tendou.

"Hey bestie" ~Tendou

he noticed your rising fear as you looked around.

"What you looking for" ~Tendou keeping direct eye contact

"My, My bag?" ~Y/N

Tendou chuckled but not in a fun loving way in a more sinister way you couldn't quite put your finger on.

"You sure are a bad liar Y/N" ~Tendou smirked eerily

trying desperately to change the subject you spoke

"Where were you Ten we were supposed to watch a movie together" ~Y/N

He looked you up and down in an almost predatorial way

"Oh, I doubt Iji would want to see me right now, you saw the news. Is that who you're running from? Iji?" ~Tendou said running his hands through your hair.

The mortified look on your face said everything he needed to know. You were running from him. His attention turned to the obvious purplish black marks on your neck with what seemed to be scabs shaped like human fingernails. he delicately touched your neck as he said.

"Damn I never would have thought he would hurt you like this. He is madly in love with you Ya know? *Chuckles* He lost his temper bad what did you say? What did you do?"

"I, I don't know. I don't know Ten" ~Y/N

you spoke as your voice began to choke up and crack tears that had been forming as you spoke now began streaming down your cheeks.

"What did I do Ten?!?" ~Y/N

Fuck he made you cry? Jesus if Iji saw her like this right now I'd be more of a dead man than I already am. Tendou was mortified as he looked down into the football fields (soccer) and he was met with Jade eyes and hair rushing towards the both of you. You were collapsed on the floor breaking down holding Tendou's hand.

"I am so Fucking dead, Come on now Y/N lets get the FUCK outa here kay?" ~Tendou

You noticed some members of Red Lightning rushing towards Ten and you thought you heard fear in Ten's voice. He rushed you into a car and took off towards the Red district. Ushijima told you never to go there because you weren't protected. While the school was a mid ground having both heirs of the two major rival families go to the same school definitely made it a war zone. If you'd been paying attention you would have noticed it sooner but all of the fights were about someone over stepping territory. How had you never noticed that Ten was THE Lightning Dragon and Iji was THE Jaded dragon?!? YOUR CHILDHOOD BEST FRIENDS WERE MAFIA LEADERS!?

Ushijima had only caught a glimpse of you his attention fixed on Tendou as he shouted.

"Fucked this one up too huh?" ~Tendou

[baka-monarch]

If you’re still taking prompts, 20 with some bestie Analogical?

It was always known that Logan was the smartest student at school and his friend, Virgil, had always been considered his second, as they would rent out the lab more than any of their peers and conduct experiments that with Logan's calculations almost always went right. It was an uncommon occurrence for something to go wrong, especially since Virgil always insisted on double checking over Logan's math for him just to be sure, and the times that things did go wrong they usually spotted the problem before anything could happen and would end the experiment, and if lucky, they would still find a new fascinating result.

But science isn't based on luck, and sometimes, you can not prevent the inevitable.

It was Saturday, and Logan and Virgil had the whole lab-and school-to themselves all day. It was good since they would inevitably be making a mess. For earlier that week Logan had calculated what he believed was a way around the square-cube law, and now they were attempting to use his calculations to manipulate the size of objects.

"Okay." Logan announced, stepping back from the concoction they had been creating. "This should be the last element needed." Logan looked to Virgil seeing the usual anxious look he had on his face every time they did chemistry. "Virgil it will be fine. I have checked over my calculations multiple times, not to mention how long you kept my papers away from me as you double checked them. It will be fine." At Logan's words Virgil exhaled, calming his nerves.

"Okay." Virgil took a moment to ground himself. "What's left?" He said once he was ready.

"Krypton." Logan simply stated.

"Okay." Virgil turned to a cabinet at the back of the lab and started shifting through it's contents. "Krypton... krypton... krypton...." He mumbled under his breath as he searched. "Krypton!" He exclaimed as he found it. He carefully brought it back to Logan who took it in gentle hands.

"We just need to add one drop." Logan carefully measured. Then, once he was sure he had the right amount, he lowered it over the opening of the beaker. Virgil and Logan watched holding their breath as the last drop descended into the mixture...

As soon as the krypton made contact with the liquid their was a loud 'BOOM' followed by the sound of glass shattering and a blinding light making Logan cover his ears and squeeze his eyes shut. He took a moment to let his ears stop ringing and to let the spots in his vision clear before he took in what had happened. The beaker had shattered and the mixture they were working on was gone, surrounding where the beaker had once stood were black soot marks with a clean circle in the center as big as the-now gone-beaker, but that wasn't the worst part. The worst part was... Virgil wasn't there. Virgil wasn't there.

"Virgil!" Logan exclaimed as he spun around checking the room. "Virgil!?" He looked under the lab table finding no sign of him. "Virgil please-" Logan was cut off by a choked sob, he covered his mouth in disbelief, feeling fresh tears run down his face and over his hands. Virgil was gone. Virgil was gone and it was all his fault. He should have known there was no way around the square-cube law, should have known that the mixture would react this way, he shouldn't have let Virgil come and pay for his foolish mistake. Who knew what he had done to his friend, weather the experiment had worked and kept shrinking him to a microscopic level or had not worked and caused his molecules to collapse in on themselves, either way it was Logan's fault... Logan wasn't much for emotions but he took this moment to indulge as he slid down the wall and curled up into a ball, releasing silent sobs at what he'd done.

"Uhg... " there was an almost silent groan that sent a terrible, small hope running through Logan that he quickly dismissed not wanting to be hurt anymore. "Logan?" At Virgil's small voice, that's when Logan let the hope wash over him as he started pushing himself off the floor.

"Virgil..?" Logan asked, almost scared he wouldn't get a response.

"Yeah? Who else would it be?" Virgil questioned with his usual sarcastic tone. "Where are you?"

"I could ask the same of you." Loagn put his hand on the lab table as a leverage to help his stand, to wotch he hear a small inhale of air.

"I guess it worked." Virgil said, and Logan could hear the edge in his voice as he hid fear. He'd known Virgil long enough to recognize when he felt threatened. "You-you're huge!" Logan's mind caught on the word 'huge', for he knew that he was in fact not huge, but that would mean...

"Virgil, I do not think you have observed your situation fully yet." Logan said as he finally looked down and reevaluated the scene on the table, and there- next to a shard of glass, no more than 3 inches tall, was Virgil stating up at him in both awe and fear. Logan was flooded with relief, Virgil was okay! Shrunk, but okay! As Logan found comfort in the fact that his best friend was not in fact dead, Virgil finally turned around and took in the sight of the now massive lab before him and was filled with horror.

"...shit..." Virgil breathed out, before he started breathing faster, hyperventilating. He tangled a hand in his hair and pulled as the other one covered his mouth only making it harder to breath. He was having a panic attack.

"Virgil, Virgil calm down, breath." At Logan's voice Virgil turned around and focused on him. Logan kneeled so he was eye level with Virgil. "In for 4 seconds-" Logan breathed with him and lightly tapped his finger as he counted to keep Virgil's focus. "1-2-3-4- hold for 7-" he held his breath and counted, "1-2-3-4-5-6-7- and out for 8-" he exhaled. "1-2-3-4-5-6-7-8-" Logan continued this process over and over, until he was sure that Virgil was okay.

"Th-thanks..." Virgil mumbled out. He wrapped his arms around himself, something Logan recognized as a way to calm himself, so Logan only nodded in response. He needed to keep Virgil's focus on him so he wouldn't be overwhelmed again.

"Virgil, it's going to be okay." Logan said, he knew it probably wasn't... but it was better to say it than to believe this was as terrible as it really was.

"No Logan, it's not going to be okay!" Virgil argued. "Haven't you noticed, I'm 4 inches ta!?" Virgil exclaimed.

"Actually you're no more than 3 inches tall."

"Exactly! What about this is okay!?" Virgil slowly calmed more as he got angrier.

"I can figure out how to reverse it, and get you back to normal-"

"But how long wi that take!" Virgil cut Logan off. "Hiw long am I going to be stuck like this, I-I have a life Logan I can6just be tiny for the rest of it!"

"You won't be, I promise." Logan knew at this point it meant nothing but... he had to keep going, for Virgil.

"You can't promise that Logan, you don't know if there's a way out of this!" Virgil gestured wildly to the room.

"At least it's not worse..." Logan inputted.

"How could it be worse?" Virgil cried out.

"Before you said anything Virgil... I-I thought you were gone. I didn't see you, I thought..." Logan swallowed. "I thought you were dead." Virgil just looked at him, he was calm now, Logan had helped him get it out of his system.

"You made me mad so I would calm down." Virgil deadpanned.

"Yes, it's-uh-it's something I noticed helped you when you talk to Roman, you seem to calm down if you are arguing." Logan rubbed the back of his neck, a nervous habit.

"Well!-" Virgil was about to go off, but, he looked at Logan, really looked at him. For however long Virgil was out Logan had felt terrible, he looked terrible, his eyes were pink, his face was flushed, his hair was a mess, and his tie was wrinkled... "Well, thanks." Virgil shrugged. "Until you find that cure." Virgil paused for dramatic effect. "This stays between us."

"Naturally." The 'I don't want to loose you' was left unsaid but was understood.

"Let's get back to the dorm."

[amerrierworld]

Curtain. (i)

Carol (2015) fanfiction 

Summary: An on-and-off job as photographer can only pay so much, so Therese Belivet has taken a job at an elementary school's art program to help pay the bills. One of her last jobs before the school year begins is photographing a preview night of a successful play where she meets the well-known artistic director of the show, Carol Ross. She forgets about their meeting until September rolls around and she starts teaching an inquisitive young six-year old by the name of Rindy.

Characters: Carol x Therese

Word Count: 1,491

Warnings: none yet!

June.

Therese was staring intensely at her laptop, watching as all the little photo icons from her camera began transferring over to her drive. Rain tapped gently against her windows and a can of Coke sat on her desk, half-empty. She had shut all the windows to avoid any light or outdoor distractions as she tended to daydream while looking out in the distance, but this time Therese was determined to get this job finished.

As she waited for the files to continue transferring, the brunette arched her back, yawning as her body creaked and popped from sitting for so long.

It had been three days since her lucky photography gig at the Hudson Theatre. Thinking about it still made her limbs jittery. It was a smaller theatre, but being the oldest theatre in the city and having hosted many successful shows, it was still a landmark. Therese had been overjoyed at the prospect of working inside the theatre for once and seeing all the ins and outs of the show she had been asked to document.

Her phone pinged from where she had haphazardly tossed it on her bed. She stood up and shuffled over, stretching again and giving her legs a shake as she opened a message from Dannie.

preview done. again.

how was it?

tbh a little messier than when u were there, richard kept missing his mark

of course he did.

yeah ross wasn't too pleased with him...

At the mention of the director's name, Therese's stomach lurched a bit, though she couldn't tell why. They had only exchanged a few words during the preview when she'd been there.

...anyways, manager wants to know how ur doing with those photos

workin on em right now actually

tsk that's too bad

why? did she need them now? i thought i had until next week

nah i was just gonna ask if u wanted to get some food and then get plastered w me and phil

Therese snorted and looked back at her laptop, which lit up, indicating all the files had been successfully imported. Temporarily forgetting about her conversation she hurried to glance through them, immediately noticing the faulty pics that she knew she wouldn't be able to use.

Her phone rang and she picked up.

"Is that a no?" Dannie asked from the other end. Therese rolled her eyes.

"Dannie, not responding in 30 seconds does not automatically mean no. But yeah, I don't know if getting drunk right now is such a good idea, I have a lot to go through. Plus, don't you have to work tomorrow?"

"Preview isn't until the afternoon, Belivet. I have all morning to sober up."

Sighing, Therese flicked through a few photos, stilling as she found one of the director whose back was to the camera as she directed Gen, the lead actress, who stood off to the far side of the stage.

"Therese?"

"Hm? Yeah, for sure. I'll come for food, but I'm going home afterwards, I really don't want to be hungover. I've had three cans of Coke already, alcohol and caffeine don't mix well for me."

"Alright, sounds good."

"When do you wanna head out?"

"...now?"

At that, the intercom buzzed at Therese's front door, indicating someone was in front of the apartment building.

"Jesus, Dannie, really?"

"I know you're always hungry, Therese. Plus, getting off the subway from work at your place is so much closer than mine. Forgive me?"

"Ugh fine, give me 20 minutes to get ready though. I don't care if you're stuck in the rain outside. That's what happens when you constantly drag me out for last minute plans."

"Yeah, yeah, Belivet, just hurry your ass up. We're not going anywhere fancy cause God knows I don't get paid enough to afford anything like that."

"Is Richard coming?" Therese asked, brow furrowing in a split second of worry.

"Him? Nah. I actually think he somehow managed to lure Gen into a date tonight. I saw them talking after the show."

"Oof, poor girl."

"Yeah, maybe I should warn her, y'know. Get her out while she still can."

"Terrible idea, McElroy. You know how actresses are with stage hands."

Dannie barked out a laugh. "Shut the fuck up, Belivet. You're one to talk, considering you were ogling the director the entire night."

"I was not."

"Yeah you were. Now get going, or I'm gonna melt in this downpour."

Therese smiled and ended the call, closing her laptop and hurrying to put on some decent clothes before meeting Dannie outside.

-

"C'mon Terry, not even one shot? As a celebratory drink for this job and the next."

"No, Phil," Therese laughed. "I already told Dannie, I have work to do later."

"Alright, suit yourself, but that means I'm gonna drink extra just to make up for you!"

After having grabbed a bite at a cheap Thai restaurant, the McElroy brothers had dragged Therese to their usual bar even though she was still determined to stay sober.

"Do you even know how to deal with kids, Therese? Elementary school can be vicious, y'know," Dannie said, sipping his beer as he ignored Phil stumbling from his seat to order another drink.

"It's only part-time, Dan," Therese shrugged. "Plus, what kid doesn't like art? If one of them throws a temper, I'll just let him go ham on a canvas with some paint, no big deal. It's therapeutic that way."

"How'd you manage to get a job there anyway?"

"Well, their usual art teacher had to take a break for a year 'cause of an injury, so I'm just filling in for the younger grades. They were desperate for more staff for their programs."

"Jeez, is that allowed? You've barely worked with kids until now."

"I dunno. I did a full police check and stuff, besides I'm not hired for the school, just the programs afterwards so I'm not technically a teacher. But it's a small school with a shit ton of younger kids that often need an after-school program. Chances are they won't even need me in the New Year if the other teacher comes back."

"So they just really need extra hands on deck?" Dannie concluded and Therese nodded. Phil came staggering back with a glass of water, grouchy and mumbling something about the bartender not letting him have another.

"Yeah. What about you though? What's happening after Woolf?"

Danni sighed and slumped back in his seat. "Who knows at this point? Ross is taking a break too, from being artistic director-,"

"Wait, really? She's not retiring is she?"

Dannie smirked at Therese but ignored her sudden eagerness in the conversation.

"Nah, just something about needing to be home with her family. She's worked her butt off for the theatre more than anyone, so it makes sense she wants a break for a little while after this show's done. But she'll probably be back in no time, cause she's like that. In the mean time, Gerhard is taking over. I don't know what she has up her sleeve yet, but I'm thinking a typical Christmas show is coming up."

"Any idea what it might be?"

"Nope. Everyone's talking and wanting to do A Christmas Carol but it's been so overdone, and Abby's always doing unexpected things."

"Damn, I wonder what it could be," Therese chewed her lip in thought.

"You sure you're not just upset at the idea of Ross not working there anymore?" Dannie teased. Therese smacked his arm.

"Dannie," she scolded.

"What! Even a blind person could see she's literal eye candy, though she can be a tough boss. I'm not blaming you for liking her, but I am telling you that she's not as sweet as she looks."

"Hmph, whatever. She's probably got someone anyways, if she's taking a break with family."

"I dunno, Belivet, I've never noticed a wedding ring." He winked at her.

"God, you're the worst y'know?" Therese sighed, though her eyes were twinkling. "I never should have come out to you when all you do is tease me about every girl who I just happen to find kinda cute."

Dannie grinned. "That's what you get for being besties with the McElroys, Belivet. Besides, since Phil doesn't like girls, who am I supposed to go to when I get lady problems?"

Therese shook her head and chuckled before checking her watch.

"Damn, it's getting late. Alright boys, I'm going home. I really need to work on those photos. Don't drink yourselves to death, please?"

"Wouldn't dream of it, Belivet!"

She grabbed her purse before going to hail a cab as Phil and Dannie waved goodbye, her mind whirling with thoughts of the intriguing blonde director. Therese wondered who she was, besides the 'literal eye candy' that she'd managed to capture on camera. Sighing, Therese shook her from her mind during the brief cab ride home, deciding it was best to leave her daydreaming behind for the rest of the night.

A/N: heh... hi. here's my take on carol/therese because i can’t get enough of them honestly. Let me know what you think; this’ll be a pretty packed series so enjoy :3 

I’ve also been posting my stuff on AO3 if any of you use that as well so you can find this and my other stories there too! <3 

[ghostmartyr]

how a life can move from the darkness [11/?]

| 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 |

Summary: Two drug addicts (Eren and Historia) meet in group and decide to be roommates to make their  living situation slightly less weird. From there we do the slow burn  found family dance mixed in with the struggles and agonies of recovery. Heavy on friendship feels, especially EMA. Eventual yumikuri.

Ymir was going to be part of Eren’s life. He’d known for a while he didn’t have much of a choice in that. There wasn’t anything surprising about her coming to one of Zeke’s games. The surprise would be if she kept it at one. Ymir did what she wanted unless Historia told her not to, and according to Reiner what she wanted was to see Historia in a baseball uniform.

Eren didn’t need to know that, but he was getting used to all of it. He didn’t need Historia asking him five different times if Ymir meeting Armin and Mikasa was something he was okay with. No one had to hold his hand over them anymore. He had two of his own.

ymir’s showing at the game historia’s friend

               Is this the girl from juvie

why do you know that

                               Historia was in juvie??

               She watches Rivaille for me sometimes.                It came up.

                               Why was Historia in juvie??

from when she killed her dad

                               Oh. That makes sense                                Wait, I thought that was self defense sort of

               No.

                               ????

It was all fine, and the worst thing about any of it was still that he was going to one of Zeke’s baseball games. Which wasn’t even so bad with Armin, Mikasa, and Historia all there and whole. Petra had called it a ‘sterling improvement.’ Eren didn’t remind her of all the parts left to work on. Maybe she’d call that an improvement, too.

What wasn’t fine was jolting awake at four in the morning, music Eren didn’t recognize blasting from his phone while his head hit go on lunging out of bed into his nightstand.

Ankle caught in his sheets, Eren held the box of sensory destruction in his hands for full seconds before the ability to turn it off came back to him. Blinding puffs of white clouds parted, and he could swipe the brightness down to numbing without his ears bleeding.

A jumble of words waited on his brain to catch up. Sprouting like weeds.

yo Baseball Boy u have friends coming to this thing right ur ocean instagram hot tub scale bro and catgirl

The corner of his phone agreed. It was four in the morning.

It buzzed enthusiastically in his hand, helpful emoji arrows loading to point at empty image boxes. They were quickly filled by another Eren, kneeling in wet sand and unaware that Armin was expanding the subjects of his Instagram. Five different angles popped up.

who needs this many pics of a sea urchin was he trying to get the seashell ur on top of

Eren’s fingers moved slowly.

               why are you awake

Ymir did not respond with an answer.

how many hours do photoshoots like this take

Another shot loaded under the text, and it could have been the end of the world and Eren still would have recognized the picture from his last beach trip. Mikasa, magically captured in a moment of lifting him and Armin into the air. The unfair, unexpected moment in a day of clouds and uncooperative waves. Armin hadn’t seen it coming any more than Eren had, even though it was his picture. But he was the one beaming into the camera.

Eren hadn’t wanted to go. There was a tournament to prep for. Annie had been helping him. The cut on his cheek from her toe catching his face hadn’t even had a chance to heal. Captured in that one second Mikasa had lifted them up and Armin had thought to hold on to his phone, the mark was bright and red, flexing with his open mouth of outrage.

Mikasa was smiling too. She just wasn’t looking at the phone.

The top of the photo was cut off with a buzz.

u have a face under that hair… unreal […] u’d look prettier if u smiled

Eren untangled his foot from his bedding and flumped back on his pillow with his phone in hand.

               fuck off

do u kiss ur besties with those fingers am I gonna get to watch that @ the game

Irritation didn’t offer the same warmth as his comforter, but the kindling helped take off the morning chill. Eren scrubbed his face with the palm of his hand and scowled at the screen.

               you and historia need to stop asking about that                I’m fine

A minute passed. Long enough for a yawn to dim the adrenaline.

cool

Eren waited for the rest.

He woke up with the sun shining under his blinds, his phone inside his pillowcase, no new messages from Ymir, and one unread apology text from Historia sent at five in the morning. And a baseball game to go to.

----

“You sure you don’t want to play? You have the arms for it.”

Yelena sat in the corner of the dugout. Up straight, even though her hair caught in the splinters hooked in the ceiling. Smiling, because she did that. Giving Eren an entire bench of personal space he hadn’t asked for, because she did that too.

“I’m sure,” he said, taking the batting helmets out of Zeke’s bag and jamming them in their cubbies.

Yelena was the only other person in the dugout. She started better cold. According to her.

Mikasa and Historia were warming up in the outfield, Historia looking out at the bleachers every five seconds. Colt and Zeke were next to them. Throwing like Colt didn’t mind doing nothing else a thousand times over.

One of the helmets hit the shelf instead of its slot. Eren ignored the field and shoved it back into place. Armin was planning to be on time instead of an hour early, so he wasn’t around yet.

Yelena was smiling at Eren.

He didn’t like it.

“Zeke keeps a spare uniform on hand. Your roommate would have found trouble with the fit, but your proportions are more agreeable,” Yelena said. “He’d be happy to give it to you. Playing with his brother again would mean the world and more to him.”

The helmets were cheap plastic past the padding. Eren’s hands could crack them. Easily. Take Zeke’s toys and break them to see if that would make talking to Eren about feelings and what he wanted sound any better.

He’d done that by accident as a kid. It never worked. Whether or not it would now wasn’t a thought that had even settled when a new voice found its way into the shaded dirt. “What’s big brother have against the world?”

Like a grinning gargoyle, mocking and light, Ymir appeared, settling her arms on the dugout’s roof and leaning into Eren’s personal space. His reflection blinked at him from the mirrored rainbow sunglasses perched on her forehead.

It took several seconds before the reflection’s eyes shifted enough to catch the waving figure next to her. Armin, earlier than he ever was to these, because he never got enough sleep and had to catch up somewhere, smiled awkwardly, a good chunk of his body fully accosted by Ymir.

Something heavy and warm was threading into Eren’s chest, and it made it hard to look at either of them. “Aren’t those Reiner’s?” he asked.

“Aren’t you going to say hello?”

He put away the last helmet soundlessly. “You stole his sunglasses?”

“Since my last felony went so well,” Ymir said, hopping down and crushing a sunflower seed under the pointed dress shoes she’d decided to wear to a baseball game. “You should care more that I stole Instagram boy.”

She flipped off the glasses and planted them squarely on Eren’s head, bypassing every physical and verbal protest. Armin, standing out in the sunshine and looking happier than anyone should at one of these things, quietly drew out his phone and Eren rolled his eyes compliantly before the shutter noise sounded.

Yelena interrupted the moment.

“You’re new.”

Armin’s smile stiffened. Ymir’s hands made another knot in Eren’s hair, and she passed Yelena a bored look. “Yeah,” she said, “I suppose I am. You’d be?”

“Yelena,” said Yelena. A hand stuck out by Eren’s hip and hovered there with all the earnest politeness that never felt honest coming from her. She kept at it every time anyway. “It’s a pleasure to meet another one of Eren’s friends.”

“I’ll bet,” Ymir said. “You don’t look like someone who comes by that naturally.” There was a shark in those teeth. Eren hadn’t realized Yelena was bleeding in the water. “Don’t take it too personally; that brother of his doesn’t have apartment privileges either.”

Without another word, she grabbed Eren by his scalp and yanked him up the steps, disregarding his balance and safety and pulling him into the morning sunlight next to a staring Armin. Before she kept the movement going and pressed heavy hands on their backs and shoved them out of the backstop’s limits.

Failing on the rest, and making limited headway forcing Ymir out of his hair, Eren offered,“Good morning.”

Armin, eyes alight and stunned, said, “Good morning.”

Eren jabbed his thumb over his shoulder. “This is Ymir.”

Armin nodded. “We met by the drinking fountain.”

Eren nodded.

Ymir continued pushing them towards the bleachers, scuffing line chalk all over their shoes, with only one telling stumble that set Armin free from her grip. Eren wasn’t so lucky, and it felt on purpose.

The pressure pushing him away from the dugout didn’t let up. Ymir had earned her rock climbing qualifications somewhere and it showed, but her entire head was aimed at the outfield, where Historia missed an easy lob by her head because her glove was down at her waist. Mikasa had to call her name several times before it took, and she jogged back to fetch the ball with a stumble that gave Mikasa time to look over to determine what was so distracting.

She found Eren first. In their oddly connected pile.

He pointed at Ymir.

Mikasa’s eyebrows rose. He shrugged.

Ymir stared, since that’s what she did when Historia was in orbit, and Historia kept moving while she stared back. Crossing near Zeke and Colt in the process. Where every third throw was a risk since Zeke was putting Colt through grounder paces. Colt wasn’t great with grounders. His little brother was. Eren was. That was half of little league.

Armin’s face popped in front of Eren and he almost jumped. “Ymir thought you’d like watching from the stands with us,” he said. “That’s not how she said it, but—do you want to?”

A floater landed softly in Colt’s glove, and Eren pulled his eyes away. “Sure,” he said, focusing on Armin and the warmth coming through Ymir’s hand on his back. On how easy it always was here.

“So Armin,” Ymir said into the quiet morning mist, “what was Eren like before he had hair?”

“Louder, mostly.”

“Hey.”

----

Watching from the bleachers wasn’t that different from watching from the dugout. There were still rooting for the same people. Nothing they did contributed to how it was going. It was still several hours of watching people stand in one spot waiting for a moment that might never come.

There wasn’t anything new to it.

“Cutter.”

“Not with this one. Fastball.”

“Zeke’s more strategic than that. No one else on their team has gotten a hit all day. He won’t risk that happening again in the final inning.”

“No one else getting a piece of him means he has something to prove.”

“Winning proves that better.”

Nothing new at all, except Armin wasn’t sitting with a bunch of people who didn’t care about how their genius pitcher won them the game. He was sitting next to Ymir, a bunch of twigs in the shape of a diamond resting etween them, small gouges in the splintered stands where they’d jabbed in larger sticks to make their points earlier.

“What do you think, Eren?” Ymir’s voice broke into his lazy contentment. “How much of a prideful prick is big brother?”

Eren looked over at the mound, where he hadn’t had to all game with the commentary running by his ears. Where Zeke stood as the king of his domain. Steady and calm to anyone who did think to look. “Fastball.”

Armin objected. “It’s the ninth inning, it doesn’t make any sense to—”

The pitch left Zeke’s hand. Straight as an arrow. Hammering into the catcher’s mitt. In three of the movies that had somehow survived their list purges, this was where the stadium would go silent before the crowd erupted in cheers.

They weren’t in a stadium, and there wasn’t a crowd.

Armin sighed, his careful placement of twigs slipping back down to the ground.

Ymir clucked her tongue. “You hate to see it.”

“They won,” Eren said, unhelpfully. Armin’s heavier sigh made the whole diamond shine brighter. Past tolerable. Put with Ymir’s rolling eyes and Mikasa jogging to the outfield to walk in with Historia, it hit somewhere closer to whatever Zeke saw whenever he stepped up to the mound.

Whatever it was that made showing up worth it. Eren had never understood as a kid, stuck in the bleachers with his grandparents. Finally being let into the dugout didn’t make it any better, even when it should have. Getting a taste when he was back to the bleachers while the teams shook hands wasn’t something he would have thought to look for.

The baseball part was still dumb.

Ymir’s elbow jabbed his ribs and pointed at Mikasa. “That’s the cat friend?”

Eren pushed her back into Armin’s section of bench. “We told you that was her when she got the grand slam.” All four runs on the board were thanks to Mikasa.  Armin had jumped to his feet to cheer for her. The guy walking his dog nearby knew who Mikasa was, and Ymir was paying more attention.

She didn’t snipe back. She dropped Reiner’s sunglasses on his head and kept staring out at the field. Historia had spent most of the game out of range. Every few shook hands she glanced over her shoulder, but Ymir didn’t so much as twitch at the extra attention. She was watching Mikasa. The hand she’d dropped to the bench was digging into the splintered edge.

She’d used that hand to text him at four in the morning.

“You’re nervous,” Eren said abruptly.

Ymir scoffed. “Don’t be ridiculous.”

Eren looked at Armin for confirmation. Armin’s wide eyes darted between them, Ymir stubbornly staring at the back of Mikasa’s head as she hit the end of the line. After a stalled second that said everything, he shrugged diplomatically.

Eren spun back to Ymir. “You are.”

“Right, because meeting up with your friends really earned its spot on my dayplanner,” Ymir said, unclenching her fist enough to lean back on the next row of bleachers. It didn’t look as casual as she thought it did.

Armin tried to help. “Mikasa’s not that scary once you get to know her,” he said. “She’s amazing at everything, and that can intimidate some people, but—”

“I am not intimidated,” Ymir declared. “From everything you nerds have told me her cat’s scarier than she is.”

“Rivaille’s…” Armin’s defense fell short. “A rescue,” he said at last.

Eren picked his dropped thread back up. “If you’re not intimidated, what are you nervous about?”

“Are your ears broken?” Ymir said. “I’m not nervous.”

“You’re breaking the seats with your hand.”

She stole her sunglasses back and pointed them at him. “All that says is your brother should pick a better park to play at.”

“The league figures that out.”

“They’re walking over,” Armin said.

Eren and Ymir shut up. Ymir’s face had lost the shade of color Historia usually gave her, and maybe there was something wrong with that, but the only other time Eren had seen her in a social situation she wasn’t in control of, she’d started crying. Maybe she was just like this with new people.

Historia didn’t have the extra bounce Ymir usually gave her, either. But anything could take away Historia’s good mood, and Ymir was more like her everything.

Mikasa looked like Mikasa. She wasn’t someone to be nervous over.

“C’mon,” Eren said, wrenching Ymir’s arm out of the splinters. “Get up and say hi.”

Ymir flicked him off and tromped down the stands. Armin was biting back a smile. Eren held out a hand and swung him to his feet, following Ymir without helping her grow any of the cracks in the wood.

Like magnets, Historia fell into Ymir’s orbit instantly, and any of Mikasa’s intimidation factor that Ymir had made up evaporated. Ymir slid Reiner’s sunglasses down over her eyes and looked Historia and her haphazardly dusted uniform up and down.

The color came back, and Ymir coughed into her hand. “Shouldn’t have swung at that ball in the fifth,” she said.

Historia’s whole face twitched in exasperation. “I thought I could reach it.”

Ymir grinned and hooked a finger around one of her sleeves, pulling her close enough for Armin to carefully switch his gaze to Eren’s shoulder. “With these nubs?” she asked. “Has anyone tried to ship you off to little league yet?”

“She throws too hard.”

Mikasa’s quiet insertion drew all eyes to her.

Stable and calm, she wasn’t at all put off by Ymir, or Historia’s cleat digging into Ymir’s shoe. Which she noticed. And smiled at. She’d had worse. For as long as Eren had known her. If the shame didn’t steel out the words, he could have told Ymir that.

Ymir shot Eren a look, a leering smile mocking him. “I’ve heard that.” Then she switched back to Mikasa, and the person who manned an entire household she didn’t live in gleamed under her stolen sunglasses. She stuck out her hand.

“Ymir.”

Mikasa silently looked between Ymir and Historia’s proximity and Eren.

She took Ymir’s hand.

“Eren’s friend,” she said.

Ymir bristled, but next to her, Historia’s eyes did the sunburst thing Armin’s did. Those moments that wiped everything else away, because the world stopped and paid attention when it noticed someone with the brightness to change it was waking up.

They’d lived together for months. He didn’t think he’d ever seen her happy before.

Defensive tension leaked out of Ymir like a beach balloon. She saved the last of it for a pointed scowl in Eren’s direction before dropping out of the handshake and turning away from all of them. Stuttering somewhat when Historia’s hand quietly took up the residence Mikasa’s had been thrown from.

“I guess,” Ymir said shortly. “Your boy’s okay.”

Eren’s ears burned, and he glared at the backstop. Armin’s soft laugh and Mikasa’s audible smile did not make the burning go away. It just went other places and was even harder to ignore.

“Yeah, well. You’re… fine,” he said.

The brutal, heated silence of embarrassment continued. Everyone else didn’t mind. His eyes flicked up and made the mistake of catching Mikasa’s.

Affection spilled out freely from her. Genuine and familiar. Warmer than she’d been with him even before everything fell apart. She made the blood rushing to his head feel like it was allowed to be there, and maybe wasn’t ever going to leave.

Mikasa was fine too.

----

“Are you doing okay with all of that?”

There were questions Eren had learned to put up with. Questions from Reiner had been an early test of that. Strung out and on fire, he could break Reiner’s face open for talking at all, or suck it up and learn how to be human again.

Figuring out answers to the questions wasn’t the same thing.

“Huh?” Eren said.

They were outside Reiner’s house, waiting on Ymir. She’d gotten a text from Historia on her way to pick up her helmet and the world went on pause.

“With that,” Reiner said, pointing over his shoulder at the front door.

The front door stayed a front door.

“With what?” Eren asked blankly.

“With Ymir and Historia being a thing,” Reiner said. Before Eren could add another ‘what,’ the words kept going. Reiner was at his most earnest this morning, and he bridged the gap between their bikes with a creak of metal and sincerity that Eren didn’t want. “Third wheeling can be rough.”

Eren was a morning person. It was too early for this. He said, “I’m fine.”

Reiner’s open sympathy didn’t falter. Under the dark circles and the bunched tendons in his arms that still didn’t know how to relax, there was nothing but plain, unnecessary compassion. “I talked it over with Bert and Marcel, and everyone’s fine with you rooming here.”

Anything Eren could say or wanted to be confused by got lost in syrup and waffles and the inevitable. He unclamped his hands from his bicycle and rubbed away the red indents before they were visible to anyone but him. “I have a room.”

A nice room. With sheets that had made it through two homes he wasn’t going back to. He wasn’t going to volunteer a third. “And they wouldn’t just kick me out,” Eren added, a phantom of Ymir’s hand ruffling his hair.

Reiner held one of his elbows in a way Eren had etched into his head from Historia. “No,” he agreed. “They’re not like that. They’re too used to us to ask. But for guys like us, it’s hard not to help out.” His bike shifted under him. He didn’t lean in any closer, but the world around them closed. “Only guys like us don’t do well on our own.”

Eren stayed quiet. His tongue was fuzzy. The way it had been when he woke up in the hospital. He didn’t know why he’d decided to like that feeling.

“I just wanted you to know you don’t have to go backwards,” Reiner said after a moment or two. “That’s all.”

It wasn’t that cold, but the heat in Eren’s ears still stung more than anything. He stared squarely at the ground, where a pillbug was scrunching down the sidewalk. Petra and months of encouragement didn’t make the improvement feel good. Just necessary enough to be weird.

“Thanks,” he said.

Reiner clapped him on the back hard enough to leave marks on both of them.

[next]

[jackbabewang]

Genre: Veeeeery slight angst, Fluff, Best friends to lovers

Word count: 3,050

Being together is that—

No matter how many days, weeks, months, or years go by, keep every promises made.

a/n: heavily listened to coming home while writing this, maybe you should too

When we first met

Jaehyun was the kind of person who endeared himself to everyone who knew him and you were swept off your feet the first time you saw him, roaming the corridors looking for your new classroom where they’d been relocated in the beginning of each year. The school personnel had this system going on ever since the dramatic increase in the number of students and to suit the new batch of each grade, or simply cause of the Pungsu-Jiri (Korea’s Geomancy or Feng Shui) thingy. Yeah, it was kind of unnecessary. 

Given plenty of time to break away from each other’s gazes if you wanted to, but neither did even with your feet continued walking yourselves in the opposite direction. 

How could anyone have such warm brown eyes as those? It was virtually impossible! 

Jaehyun changed your whole life as you knew it. You became best of friends, and whispered to each other on every occasion possible.

Twenty minutes into the class you spent sipping your Coke with your head bent, under the desk, behind the erected textbook to shield yourself. 

History teachers were obsessed with things that weren’t there any more. They lived in the past and expected us to want to live there too. You couldn’t imagine that any history lesson can be a thrill a minute, but with Mr. Lee in command, the expression ‘to die for’ took on a whole new meaning. Mostly everyone sat there sighing and thinking, “Why are the clock hands moving so slowly, has the battery committed suicide?” Mr. Lee was a very boring teacher. You meant very boring. He looked boring and sounded boring and everything he said was boring. He was Mr. Boring-Boring, Sir Boringest, Lord Boring of Boring-in-the-Brain. He droned on and on and on about nothing you wanted to know, then wrote it all on the board and told us to copy it down, or write an essay on it, or ask him questions. He didn’t get many questions, mainly because no one had been listening or trying to read his crabby handwriting.

SLUUUURP— 

Reaching the bottom of your cup, though not too loudly, just loudly enough so that Mr. Lee, standing in the front, a few feet away, could hear you. 

“Who was that?” he roared, his eyes darting everywhere, scanning everyone, until they settled on you. 

Instinct was not about being the smartest, but it was about being in tune with your inner drive and you turned to your only friend. He first eyed you with confusion, then gave a questioning look over the top of his glasses

“Jung Jaehyun!” 

At the call of his name, his jaw dropped, eyes widened with disbelief, frustrated and full of rage at being your scapegoat. This girl! She’ll be the death of me. 

In the end, you compensated for your mistake by flashing him the widest smile in your footlocker collection of smiles.

The beginning: Promise of the youth

During the summer holiday, you secured a part-time job at a rental record store. Jaehyun would sometimes visit and you would play the newest music out dancing and clowning around when there were no customers in the store. 

“Hey, tell you something. That guy at the counter-” 

Jaehyun tilted his curious head to the direction of the said individual, not caring that the man would notice the two youngsters were openly discussing him. 

“Don’t be so obvious, idiot!” Your nudge turned him back to you, “He’s the store manager. Apparently he first met his wife here and they’ve been together since then. Believe it or not, it’s been fifteen years! Isn’t that amazing? I can’t believe anyone can fall in love for such a long time!” 

“You sure are a mathematician. And nosy.”

“I’m an expert when it comes to this.”

“Should put it into good use instead. Like, what? Education?”

“Shut up.”

When you met them, you didn’t understand what held them together. You remembered thinking, This is really an odd couple! After spending some time with them and learning their story, it all made sense. He was her anchor, and she was his ultimate challenge; but more than that, they genuinely seemed to love one another. 

“Gosh, I can't imagine how I'd be like when I'm thirty…” 

It was always the future—a perfectly vague, indefinite future that terrifies you. You wished you could stay like this forever, young forever, happy forever. Your needs are simple, far more so than the needs of an adolescent or adult. Just think of a child, laughing at the least thing that catches its fancy, the image of himself or herself in a mirror, or the way a family pet behaves. 

Here you have Jaehyun, the secret source of your happiness. 

His voice broke in upon your thoughts, “Thirty-year-old unmarried woman… There're tons of them!” 

“Thirty— I don’t want to be that—” You shuddered, fighting back waves of panic at the image of an old lady alone with too many cats. “If I’m still single at thirty, you have to marry me.” 

Your abruptness caught him off guard. He didn’t speak for a moment but there was a glint of mockery in his eyes, a mischievous smirk played on the corners of his lips, as if he wasn’t taking you any less seriously for it. 

“What kind of reaction is that?” So you nudged him in the ribs, laughing all the more when he made an overly dramatic wince. 

“I want to have a Harry Potter themed wedding… A sunflower bouquet… Ooh, and you know what? I’m gonna abandon the heels, they’re going to kill me!” 

He chuckled. What a lady. 

“How about you? Tell me about your dream wedding.” 

“That would be marrying the love of my life.” Then he grinned. The indentations in his cheeks called dimples, making his smile heart-meltingly sweet. His eyes crinkled almost closed when he smiled, too. 

“You’re boring.” 

“What were you expecting? Dyeing my hair blonde or pink or purple?”

“That would be nice too.” 

She fell in love

“Jung Jaehyun!” You shouted his name and started waving frantically. He recognized your voice immediately despite the muffling effect of your scarf. And his heart dropped to his feet when you barely checked the road for cars before you went streaking across it. 

Next to him was a guy you’d never met before. He was about the same height as Jaehyun, his right ear a bit pointed like an elf’s, and with a face like that, you damn sure would’ve remembered.

Grinning broadly, “This is my classmate, Sicheng.” 

“Hi.” As he spoke Korean with his delicate Chinese accent, the words dripped from his lips like honey. 

“And she is-” 

With a warm smile and you introduced yourself, interrupting whatever Jaehyun might have added. Though you’re already telling him of information which was much not needed.

“Oh… You both are-”

“We’re besties!” 

“We’re heading to the cafe for awhile, do you want to join us?” 

“Sure!” 

Then you fell for him and discovered that when it comes to romance, intelligence takes a back seat to stupidity. Jaehyun half agreed, half disagreed. To him, you’re always the latter even before your blind infatuation.

Cupid, that little rascal, had already fired his arrow into your heart and had no intention of letting you escape this magical feeling. And that’s how you described the whole theory of ‘Love at first sight’ to Jaehyun, who’d probably known it better than you did.

Then, she had her first heartbreak. 

“We broke up…” You showed up unannounced on his doorstep crying bitterly only for him to drag you to the courtyard, away from his dormitory where you wouldn’t be seen or heard wailing like a toddler who had lost her lollipop, where you wouldn’t be causing disturbance to the neighbouring students, and where he wouldn’t be mistaken for the one that shattered your heart into fragments. 

“He said I never stopped talking, said I talked too fast. He pretended he couldn’t understand Korean and talked shit about me in his Ching-Chong language. He said I’m annoying and loud…” You paused long enough to take a breath, and felt more tears streaming down your face. “Am I... Am I really that annoying?” 

Something about your current state made him want to pick you up and tenderly wrap you in a blanket of protection. It was laughable to hear you whining about ‘the Chinese guy’ you once fell head over heels for. He was trying hard to control his smile that wanted to show on his face, and shook his head instead. “No, not at all.”

“Am I loud?” 

Though afraid to fuel your outburst, “Sometimes…” It was a fact. 

“I am not loud…” You spun around and stomped toward the bench, your lips pouted in misery and your head placed in the south right now. 

When he patted your back in a futile attempt to calm you, you moved after his hand in double time. “Stop patting me…” A few incoherent mumbles of him being the annoying one instead, then, “Jung Jaehyun! If I’m still single at thirty, you have to marry me.” 

“You always say that.” 

“You need to swear it this time.” Wanting him to stay true to his words, you held his right hand up.

“Swear, what?” 

You rolled your glossy eyes and exhaled a breath in exaggerated impatience. Was he dumb or dumb?

“If I’m still single at thirty, Jung Jaehyun will have to marry me!” 

As he repeated, “If I’m still single at thirty, Jung Jae-”

“No!” You scolded and whacked him on the arm. “Idiot…” 

An uncontrollable smile stretched across your face as you slowly relaxed. He stared at you for a moment, grinning faintly, an amused glint in his eyes. There was magic in you, he decided. 

You slumped back into the bench, your eyes staring into space, your mind numb. Unshed tears blurred your vision and you caught the warm drops that slipped past with the backs of your hands. Naturally, you reached over and rubbed them on his jacket to try to wipe away the traces of madness. He never complained, of course. 

“You know… You do have a superpower…”

“What is it?”

“The superpower of making my tears disappear…”

As soon as the words left your mouth, you regretted them. Talk about being a charmer. “That’s gross…”

Chill crawled down your spine and he mimicked your shiver. “You are gross.” 

Long time no see

At eleven o’clock, files for the meeting laid in front of him that he probably wouldn’t even notice his phone buzzing. He looked down at the familiar caller ID flashing on the screen. 

Without thinking twice he picked up the call. 

Immediately connected through the line, your piercing cry blasted his ear. “He said he wanted to break up with me…” Unbeknownst to yourself that it was so loud the people next to him could hear you. He smiled at his colleagues apologetically and quickly excused himself from the room. 

He found what he guessed to be an unused room, hidden away down a relatively quiet corridor. Then he leaned against the wall with his arms crossed and one ankled hooked over the other. Even though he couldn’t see your face at the moment, he could paint a perfect picture of tears streaming down your face, snot hanging on your nose. 

“Okay, okay. Stop crying.” Jaehyun was laughing. You took no notice, but went on crying. The more you cried the more he laughed. Your sobs, like fulminations, were thunderous. “You’ve gotten stronger, you know that?”

“Huh? … What?”

“I said. Your howling has gotten stronger.” 

“No, it didn’t. Bastard.” 

“I’m in the middle of a meeting right now. Talk to you later.” 

Though the phone call was cut short, it made you feel much better. Instead of hogging him on, you decided to leave him a text message, saying, “Thanks for making my tears disappear.” It was that corny line again, that he couldn’t help but grin upon reading. 

“Hangout this weekend?” He replied.

Saturday of that week 

Jaehyun offered to pick you up at your place. 

“Hey.” 

It still hadn’t completely sunk in that how much you’d matured in the last few years. Medium height, you had long dark hair, which you’d forego your full bangs, soft romantic curls looked shiny and healthy, as did your skin. He could tell from the way your outfit moved along with your body that you had a woman’s figure with lots of curves. 

“It’s been awhile,” you started. 

Staring at you too much would be creepy though, awkwardly he put his hand up with a smile, he ushered you into the passenger seat and got behind the wheel of his car and drove off. 

“Broke up again?” 

“I’m okay. It’s not the first time for me.” 

He glanced over at you a time or two, perhaps worried, but you didn’t seem to be mad or crying. As he was about to speak, your cell phone’s high-pitched ringtone crashed into the conversation, shattering the moment in an instant. 

Incoming call: Jerk

“It’s him- He’s calling! Should I pick up? Should I?” 

“If you want to-” Once again he got interrupted as he was trying to talk some sense into you.

“Hello?” “What is it?” “Didn’t we break up already? Why are you still calling me?” ”You’re freaking weird. Why are you apologizing all of a sudden?” 

During your phone conversation, Jaehyun cast a rather wary glance at you before dragging his eyes back to the road. 

“Alright… I’m not mad anymore…” 

Upon listening to whatever you’re saying, though piece by piece, it sounded like you’re back together and things would be great again. After all, it was just the typical bickering between a couple. 

With a final assurance to your not-an-‘ex’-anymore that all was well and you really weren’t mad anymore, the call ended. Just as if reading your mind, Jaehyun shook his head in disbelief while you only grin at him sheepishly. At least the rest of the hangout could be enjoyed with none of pouting and sulking, you thought. 

Another six months

Jaehyun’s phone alerted him to a text, it was frank 

I’m getting engaged soon

Will hand over the invitation card when we meet next time

Two sentences of such simple words—as something bound to be, and bound to happen. Yet it left an impact on him. He swallowed to alleviate the tightening in his throat, but the feeling followed him, peaking and then fading, falling as petals fluttering from a dying bloom. For a second prior, he was really, truly happy for you. 

Somewhere on the other side, you felt a tremendous emotional effect after clicking your phone shut following the message delivered. Something ran over your head, and maddeningly ran through again and again. What was wrong? 

In a disoriented state of mind, you began rummaging through drawers and cabinets until you found the box you wanted. You pulled it out and opened it, revealing a stack of picture squares, a two carrot ring, and finally a limited edition Hamburglar figurine that both you and Jaehyun were lucky enough to redeem. The set of eyes stared dumbly at you as you silently gazed at the little thing that managed to hold such fond memories. 

Meanwhile, Jaehyun had always had the figurine with him, laid on his workstation somewhere visible so that he continued to be reminded by it. Too, he was fixated on the pair of acrylic painted eyes in remembrance of the past. 

The day before 30th 

Jaehyun had been waiting for you inside a cafe situated a block from the deadly intersection, sipping on a glass of iced latte, though the weather was nothing sort of a torrid summer. 

Upon agreeing to the meet up, he had sorted everything out in his mind and promised himself to confront you with a good-natured congratulation on your marriage none other than a dear friend should. 

Less than ten minutes later, you appeared on the other side of the glass, waving and smiling brightly. Pitter-patter of the rain drops hitting your umbrella steadily intensify as did something else… 

“Hi,” he greeted with a dimpled grin, and then wiping the back of his hand across his mouth, a smear of coffee on his chin when you snatched up his glass and took a long swallow. Again, he said nothing about your behavior that he had gotten used to, only glaring at you with the ever same expression of This girl! She’ll be the death of me. 

“Invitation card,” he said, reminding you what all this was about in the first place. 

But so nonchalantly, you uttered, “We broke up.” 

Your eyes caught the slight lift in the right corner of his lips, Jaehyun unable to stop a small smile from making it onto his face. Simultaneously, his brows raised in surprise. 

“You didn’t cry?”

Almost proud of yourself, “No.” 

“Lies.”

“Really,” you continued with the realization of the fact that, “Liking and loving someone is different.” 

Jaehyun convinced himself, to the bone, that you’re okay. Assimilating that you’d indeed matured to understand how relationship works instead of diving in blindly on the spur of the moment by acting upon emotional states like a teenage girl in love. Emotion comes and goes, rises and falls. Certainly, love doesn’t last forever. But the foundation of love is commitment, and he wished you’d learned that as well because… 

“Do you remember what day it is tomorrow?” your calm voice interrupted his chain of thoughts, as you stared at him in anticipation. 

“Of course I do. It’s your 30th birthday tomorrow.” 

Grinning and beaming with unbridled glee, for once you bet on your bold self saying that, “So, you still remembered our promise then.” 

As if he had been waiting for years, thought he was ready, but was somewhat embarrassed and gave you a warm, shy smile. The once dying bloom came back to life, thriving, lush and flourishing. The pent up feeling on that one, great heart, burst forth in an uncontrollable, deafening shout. 

“Tell me,” you coaxed his trigger to give his word of honour. 

“If you’re still single at thirty…” Nervously, he gulped and avoiding your intent eyes. “I’ll have to marry you.”

“You must keep your promise, Jung Jaehyun.”