#in a question like that but who knows lol

[itoshiabi]

"I'm going to tell her about my identity myself"

I personally think by taking this step jinshi is clearly indicating that he's ready to take his relationship with Maomao to the next level. The flashbacks of his conversation with the old man and the empress actually clearifies it. He's not going to let anyone take Maomao away from him even if it means he has to make Maomao his consort for that. And since he's going to take that step, before that he wants Maomao to know his real identity. Telling her himself is not just about honesty, but about building a deeper connection and showing his seriousness about their future.

Also this is probably the first time I'm seeing Maomao "openly" worrying about Jinshi. Her feelings for Jinshi is gradually improving too. She doesn't find him annoying anymore lol.

When Maomao touched him—this small, unexpected gesture—it pierced straight through his carefully built defenses. He knew it's not the touch of someone trying to claim him, nor someone infatuated with his beauty. It's real. Thoughtful. And it meant everything to him. And that's why he blushed.

Jinshi's expression looks like this moment is something he's been waiting for—or something he didn't believe he deserved until now. His expression is calm on the surface, but there's a quiet vulnerability beneath it. It's like he's surrendering to whatever happens next, trusting Maomao completely. There's a silent question in his eyes "Are you really here for me?"

As for Maomao, she sees something in Jinshi's gaze that shocks her. His eyes aren't playful. They aren't teasing. They're not masking his true emotions behind flirtation or charm like he usually does. Instead, his expression is laid bare—calm, open, and completely vulnerable and for the first time, Maomao sees him. Not the flawless, untouchable beauty of the inner palace. Not the high-ranking, enigmatic figure others fawn over or fear. But the man behind all of that. And what she finds there shocks her.

The look in his eyes is intense—soft, yet piercing, like he's seeing only her in that moment. There's a deep tenderness, an unspoken confession lingering behind his gaze. His violet eyes reflect a quiet vulnerability, as if he's silently baring his soul without saying a word. It's the kind of look that speaks volumes: he treasures her more than anything, and there's a longing there, like he's afraid of losing her, but is still drawn closer despite that fear.

Also the shock in Maomao's eyes tells that she has realised the truth. For so long, she thought Jinshi was just toying with her—an aristocrat playing a game of amusement with the lowly, odd apothecary who caught his interest. She had convinced herself that his attention was fleeting, shallow, and rooted in curiosity or boredom. She thought she understood the rules of their dynamic, and she was comfortable in that belief. It was safer that way. But in this moment her mind reels, trying to process this new truth that turns her world upside down. It's written all over her face—the widening of her eyes, the subtle parting of her lips. Her heart is pounding because she realises the depth of Jinshi's feelings, and with that realisation comes the weight of what it means. He's not playing anymore. He never was.

It's all just my thoughts though, I haven't read the manga yet! But I'm really loving the fact how their relationship is progressing!

[hgfictionwriter]

Revelations - Part Ten

Jessie Fleming x Reader

Summary: An unexpected person reaches out to you and the pieces of your broken life continue to finally fall back into place.

Warnings: None.

A/N: The rest of the series is here.

"Hi Y/N. This is Sara. It's been a while and I hope you're doing well. I hope you don't mind me reaching out, but I'm doing so because Zoie would like to formally invite you to her birthday party this Sunday."

"Full disclosure. She's asked Jessie for weeks, but as I understand, Jessie's being very respectful of your wishes and doesn't want to push. That said, a soon-to-be 6-year-old doesn't really get it and doesn't care about things like that and is fairly relentless lol."

"She says she has so much fun with you and Jessie, and she doesn't know why the three of you can't keep doing that. And for the record, she loves her dinosaur shirt and gives me hell anytime I try to take it away to wash it. And when I asked her what she wanted for her birthday, one thing she said is she wanted you there - for all those other reasons - but also because Jessie was happiest when you were there. So, will you come?"

"If it doesn't feel right to you, that's okay. I get it. This entire thing has been a lot and I'm beyond sure none of it is what you pictured or wanted. I really didn't mean to crash your life. I really, really thought long and hard about bringing Jessie into Zoie's life. I ultimately felt I owed it to Zoie to. And I was terrified when I learned Jessie was engaged. I knew how this would potentially blow things up and I really didn't want that. I'm truly sorry it turned out the way it did."

"Anyway, you didn't ask for my story. My point was - not that you've asked - the way Jessie loves you is next level. She doesn't have to tell me a thing. It's apparent. It's special. I can tell any time she's talked with you. She's so much happier. It shows. And it's none of my business, but, if I were you, I'd maybe want to know."

"Okay. Now I'm done lol. If you don't reply, I'll leave you alone. No hard feelings."

You stared at the messages you came back to after your meeting. The last person's name you expected to show up on your phone was Sara's. She obviously thought you'd deleted her - you hadn't.

You and her had talked very minimally one on one, and always in a - more or less - forced capacity. And certainly never about topics like this. Again, you'd never hated her as a person. She seemed, well, perfectly fine. She just represented the force that brought your world as you knew it crumbling down.

But now here she was offering you a lifeline.

You needed a breath.

You backed out of your conversation with Sara and over to your one with Jessie. She was still in Canada with Zoie and you'd been texting intermittently since your impromptu reunion.

The texts had been light, both of you purposefully evading critical questions and topics knowing you were going to talk more when she got back. That said, the messages between you were more easy than before. And even if they weren't explicitly affectionate, there were undertones.

You smiled at the last messages from her. A picture of Zoie all done up in her snowsuit and playing in Jessie's parents' backyard along with a message of, "Someone loves the snow."

A dull ache formed in your chest, but it wasn't the same as before. Before, the ache had torn at you, gnawing, painful and malignant. But this new ache was different. It was longing and sweet. Something to chase; something to not be scared of.

You went back to Sara's messages.

“What does Zoie want for her birthday?”

-----------

While you'd felt eerily calm leading up to the weekend, as you parked your car down the street from Sara's place your nerves started to make themselves known again.

You stared steadily at the house, spotting Jessie's car parked out front.

Jessie didn't actually know you'd be here today. You don't know why you chose not to tell her. You even asked Sara not to mention anything. Who knows, maybe Sara thought you wanted to keep it down low in case you bailed. No expectations and no hurt feelings for anyone, then.

Maybe you were woefully misreading things, but you almost felt like it could be a good surprise.

You took a deep breath and picked up the gift you'd wrapped for Zoie and got out of your car and walked towards the front door. Your heart raced, hoping, for whatever reason, Jessie wouldn't see you before Sara did. You needed to get some things off your chest.

Sara told you prior to just open the door and come inside. So you did. Quietly. Tentatively.

Your eyes darted around the room.

There was a handful of kids running around - Zoie was still pretty new at her school, but had clearly managed to forge some friendships there, at dance, at swimming.

No surprise. She was just as likable as Jessie.

Then, there were a few adults mingling about. Mostly parents, you assumed, watching over things, playing with the kids, or chatting idly amongst themselves.

That former sense of 'otherness' threatened to rise up within you again, but you dismantled it this time. You weren't going to feel that way again. You were invited. You were asked to be here. You were wanted.

Then you saw a glimpse of them. Jessie was in the other room where the kids were running in and out of. Zoie was hanging off of Jessie's back, a kid latched onto each of her legs as she playfully lumbered around, the kids all laughing and yelling as they hung off of her.

You turned as Sara was coming out of the kitchen and you almost collided.

"Oh my god," she said with a laugh. Her eyes lit up as she took you in. "You came! I'm so glad."

As you saw this woman for the first time in months - this woman who was the source of so much angst and upheaval in your life - you felt a flash of anxiety. Like some emotional PTSD.

But it faded as she smiled at you. She was just a girl whose own life had been turned upside down many years ago. Her own future permanently changed; visions and dreams as she’d planned them no longer the same.

She’d gone it alone. Turned her circumstances into something to be cherished. And, in time, and justly so, decided to do right by her daughter. And Jessie.

She wasn’t a monster. She didn’t come into your life with malintent. You’d been caught in the shockwaves and fallout, but it wasn’t her fault or her intention.

She certainly didn’t need to try to save your relationship with Jessie. To keep you in Zoie’s life. In fact, it would’ve been much easier on her to have Jessie and Zoie to herself.

But she reached out to you anyway.

You felt your cheeks heating up. "Yeah. Thanks again for inviting me."

She shook her head. "Of course. You were very much wanted at this party. Someone had to tell you," she said with a smirk.

"Here. This is for Zoie," you said as you extended the gift. Sara gently pushed it back to you.

"Why don't you give it to her," she smiled, before adding with a smirk, "But she can't open it until after cake. Don't let her tell you otherwise."

You chuckled. “Sure. I’ll watch out for that.”

A beat passed and your pulse picked up again. You'd gone over in your head countless times what you wanted to say, and if you were going to say it, now would be the time.

"Um, this day is about Zoie, so I'm not going to take your focus away for long, but I want to just say something really quick," you said. Sara listened attentively.

“I wanted to say thank you for what you said the other day. I think I needed to hear it from someone other than Jessie. And, honestly,” you bit back a weak laugh, “you’re the most impartial, in a way. If it was Janine. Sinc. Elysse. Whoever, I feel like it wouldn’t have been the same. So, thank you, it means a lot.”

“I’m glad you weren’t upset that I reached out,” Sara admitted. “I mean, yes, Zoie absolutely kept badgering me and Jessie to invite you," she chuckled, "but beyond that, yeah."

She took a breath.

"I know it’s not my business. I mean, yes, Jessie’s life impacts Zoie’s, but Jessie’s obviously free to make her own choices and decisions. And honestly, I have no clue what ultimately went down between you two. None of my business either! I'm really just piecing things together from glimpses I've gotten during drop-off and pick-up, and things Zoie mentions.” She shrugged vaguely. “Jessie plays things very close to the vest, but - even if she never says anything - it’s obvious where she’s at and how she feels about you even now. And I wasn’t kidding - Zoie’s enchanted by you. Must run in the genes,” she said with a sly smirk before growing serious again. “So, this seemed like the right opportunity to say something.”

Your heart pounded in your chest as you processed her words. You weren't expecting her to say more than she did the other day.

But again, here you were. Jessie wasn't exactly confiding in Sara. She hadn't fallen into Sara's arms in your absence. It was even obvious to Sara, her ex, the mother of her child, that Jessie was still in love with you.

Your mind sharpened once more and you remembered what you planned to say. You cleared your throat.

"Thank you. I, um, I know things have been complicated. I don’t know how much has fallen back on you, or Zoie, during all of this. I hope not much at all. And I'm sorry for anything that did. I know things couldn’t have been easy for you either. A lot of big decisions along the way, uprooting your life and Zoie’s, rebuilding, introducing new family and friends into her life and yours. That’s a lot of change for anyone. You didn't know what you were going to find. That took a huge amount of courage. And I know you did it for Zoie and I respect that.” You took a quick breath. ���But it really means a lot that you shared what you did. I know you didn't need to. So, thank you for this."

Your eyes drifted away before returning to her.

"I don’t exactly know what the future holds. But, I know that if I’m a part of Jessie’s life, I’m a part of Zoie’s. And I want you to know I don’t take that for granted. You've raised a really, really special girl. Zoie's wonderful. And even if I’ve been in and out of the picture, I really do care about her. A lot. I mean, she's great - full stop. But she's also a part of Jessie, which means...," you trailed off, not quite ready to declare to her that by proxy alone you'd of course love Zoie.

You took a quick breath.

"Anyway, I'm sure this is no surprise to you, but Zoie's made Jessie's life infinitely better. So, please don’t ever feel bad for bringing Jessie into her life. That little girl deserves to have her mama in her life, and Jessie deserves her just the same.”

Sara smiled appreciatively, taking a moment of her own. “Thank you. That really means a lot.”

Her gaze shifted over to the other room where Zoie was.

"And yeah, Zoie's pretty's amazing," she said as she faced you again. "I'm grateful for her. She was - certainly - a surprise. But an incredible one and I can't imagine my life without her now. And she just adores Jessie. If Zoie's made Jessie's life infinitely better, well Jessie has 1000% done the same for Zoie. I'm grateful to have her presence in Zoie's life."

Her tone was earnest already, but it grew more-so and she held your gaze pointedly. "There's lots of room for you in that life too, if you want it."

You were about to respond when you heard your name yelled from across the house.

"That's your cue," Sara said under her breath with a laugh.

You turned to see Zoie haphazardly climbing down off of Jessie and running towards you. Your attention was split between Zoie sprinting your direction and Jessie standing there shell-shocked, two other kids still hanging off of her.

"Happy birthday!" You greeted with a bright smile as your mind righted itself. You extended the gift to Zoie, but she bypassed it, running straight into your legs in a tight hug, sending you back a step with the force behind it. You laughed, reaching an arm down to embrace her.

"Zoie, my God," Sara laughed. "Take it easy, sweetie."

"You came!" Zoie exclaimed as she pulled back to look up at you.

"I couldn't miss your birthday," you told her as your hand came to her head affectionately. You knelt down in front of her and gave her a more fulsome hug.

"Mama, you invited her," Zoie smiled as she turned partially in your arms to look at Jessie with a laugh.

You looked up to see Jessie, now disentangled, tentatively approaching. Her mind obviously still processing everything. She looked between you and Sara perplexed, but a smile of awe and surprise crossed her face.

"I, um," Jessie stammered and Sara cut in.

"Honey, let's let mama and Y/N catch up. You'll get some more time with Y/N later, okay?" She said.

Zoie pulled back a touch, her arms still around you and pouted slightly. You held out the gift to her again.

"Here, this is for you. Why don't you go put it with the others," you said. The gift seemed the perfect distraction and she grabbed it and ran to Sara's side.

"What do you say?" Sara prompted her, disbelieving and mouthing you an apology.

"Thank you!" Zoie said with a toothy grin before running off once more.

Jessie was just closing the space when you rose to your feet, now face to face with her. Her eyes searched you in wonder, that smile still tugging at her mouth.

"W-what are you doing here?" She asked, eyes curious and hopeful.

"Sara invited me," you answered. Jessie's expression changed immediately and her head snapped around to look in the direction the woman had departed. She looked back to you right away with a frown.

"It's all good," you said as you nervously tucked your hair behind your ear. "She, um, she told me that Zoie wanted to invite me. She said you wouldn't - but I know why."

Jessie opened her mouth to defend herself and you held up a hand, gently coaxing her to stop.

"You're not mad that I showed up, are you?" You asked, though a faint smile pulled at your lips. Jessie did a double-take, adamantly shaking her head.

"No. Oh my God. No, of course not," she readily assured you. She frowned before giving an airy laugh. She took a moment to find her words, her cheeks growing red. "I'm...I'm very happy that you showed up."

"I wondered if you might be. Hence why I didn't say anything when you were away," you said, a playful smile now finally crossing your face.

She smiled wider with another shake of her head. "Yeah. Wait, when did this all happen?"

"This week. You were already at your parents' with Zoie," you relayed. She nodded slowly, an adorable frown on her face as she put the pieces together.

"And, thanks for texting me while you were away," you added. "It was nice to get updates. Felt like I was almost there sometimes," you finished more shyly than you'd intended. She gave you a grateful smile.

"Of course. You were-" she stopped for a second, centering herself and giving a nod as she offered you a quiet smile. "You were missed."

You nodded, much the same as her and wearing a quiet smile of your own.

You felt light.

"Okay. Well, this is Zoie's day, so I don't want to get too deep into things. But," you said slowly, your gaze drifting away momentarily before you smiled at Jessie once more, "if you'd like to take me up on that offer to talk, you could ask me out for coffee sometime." You held her gaze and added in emphasis. "Not as friends."

Jessie stood before you and you could see quiet shock come over her. Her eyes didn't leave yours, but you could see them dart across your face, looking for any signal of a misunderstanding.

Her eyes started to well and she let out a breath that sounded more like a stifled sob.

"Are you serious?" She asked, her eyes shimmering further as her eyebrows furrowed together, her emotions plain.

You smiled softly back at her and simply nodded.

"I mean, I could ask you out if you like," you said before you rest a hand on your hip and tapped your lips facetiously. "Hmm, you seem like someone who would like...[whatever we think Jessie's coffee of choice is]."

Jessie let out a watery laugh as she stepped forward and pulled you into her arms, hugging you tightly to her. You reciprocated immediately as you laughed gently in her ear.

"Oh my god," she said, her voice thick with emotion as she rocked you in place.

She sniffled and wiped at her eyes as she stepped back. Her face was bright red as she looked at you and your heart felt like it could burst.

"W-will you go out for coffee with me?" She asked, a slight stutter in her voice as she rode out her emotions. She laughed, wiping at another stray tear. "On a date."

You nodded readily, echoing her soft laugh.

"I'd love to."

"Mama?"

You both glanced down to see Zoie coming up, tugging lightly on Jessie's pant leg and looking up at her very concerned.

"What's wrong?" Zoie asked, looking so worried.

Jessie nearly started crying again. She gave a tearful laugh and bent down to scoop Zoie up into her arms, hugging her tightly.

"Nothing's wrong, sweetie. I promise," she said as she kissed Zoie's cheek. "I'm not sad. I'm great. I'm really happy. These are happy tears," she said with a sniffle as she held her close.

Zoie seemed to contemplate Jessie's explanation. She watched her carefully, though still a bit confused.

"Well, what are you happy about?" Zoie inquired. Jessie's gaze flit over to you before returning back to her daughter's.

"Y/N and I were just having a good conversation. And it made me very happy," she said. "Sometimes people cry when they're happy."

Zoie was still skeptical.

"Well, what were you talking about?"

Jessie shot you a look and you stepped in.

“Your mama’s right, Zoie. Tears aren’t always sad,” you reinforced. “In this case? Just boring adult talk.”

“What adult talk?” Zoie asked innocently. With this amount of determined curiosity, she was certainly Jessie’s child.

"Coffee," you said flatly for effect. "Kind of boring? Right?" Zoie made a face and you smiled at her before distracting. "Hey, how has dance been?"

Zoie's eyes lit up and she wriggled in Jessie's arms to be let down. Jessie set her down with a laugh and Zoie grabbed you by the hand to pull you into a more open area.

"I want to teach you my routine," she said excitedly. "I tried to teach Mama, but she’s not very good at it," she relayed very matter of fact and you stifled a laugh.

Zoie began showing you her routine and you played along, following her disjointed, but enthusiastic motions.

When you weren't paying attention to Zoie's choreography, your eyes were drawn to Jessie who now leaned back against the wall watching you both with a weepy smile, wiping at her tears with the sleeve of her hoodie now and then.

As Zoie showed you the steps, her hair wispy and wild in a messy pony tail, her cheeks rosy, smiling up at you and looking so much like Jessie’s baby photos - you recalled what Jessie told you so many months ago.

“How can I look at her and feel like my life is ruined?”

That argument seemed like another life now. The sorrow and insidious pain that coursed through you every moment during that period was a mere memory now.

As you smiled down at Zoie and over at Jessie who watched you both adoringly, you understood what Jessie meant. You felt it.

When you finished, Zoie ran off to rejoin her friends and Jessie approached you, still sniffling. She exhaled in self-effacing exaggeration.

"I'm a mess," she said.

"You're lovely," you countered without missing a beat.

Jessie shook her head slowly, looking at you with love like all the years before, but part of it felt new - deeper - as well.

"I love you so damn much," she said. She cracked a smirk a moment later. "That's totally appropriate to say before a first date, right?"

You laughed and you drew her into a kiss, soft and slow.

"Completely."

A/N: Not quite done yet. One more chapter.

Tag requests: @ryuushou @marvelwomen-simp @valuyhh

[unpopularly-opinionated]

With this last election specifically (or even 2016's election), an element of this that I feel is important to note is that even if you're not openly shitting on a demographic, that doesn't mean you're supporting that demographic either, especially with regards to politics. And it shouldn't need explaining why it's vitally important in politics to make sure every demographic thinks you're supporting them.

For better or for worse (it's only for worse, let's be honest), politics is just a huge popularity contest, which means yeah, you're going to have to get up there and lie, and bullshit, and give the greatest fucking performance of your life if you want to stand a chance at winning. This is why it's all but impossible to run a campaign primarily on things like LGBT rights, or abortion rights, or any *insert minority issue here* because frankly put: people are dumb.

Okay, maybe that was hyperbolic, but people do have different access points to the news, and short attention spans/busy lives to lead instead of paying absurdly close attention to politics. The point I'm trying to make is this: let's say you see a clip of a candidate showing their support for gay marriage. That's it. That's the sound byte, clip, headline, article, whatever it is you used to consume media at that specific moment. Now, for obvious reasons, this differs from person to person, but some people might be asking themselves: "Well do they support trans people too?" or some might ask: "Do they support abortion?" or "Well what about straight people? Are we being left out?" and it's very important that you realize that regardless of whatever your personal feelings on the validity of each of those questions (or others) might be, they're all valid to the person asking them.

Not everyone has time, energy, or capability to research a candidate's every last viewpoint. It also doesn't help that a lot of candidates are intentionally really fucking vague on a lot of the more hot button issues. This is a part of why a lot of people wind up being single-issue voters, because they quite literally only know a candidate's single viewpoint.

So when you run a candidacy purely on how you're going to help minorities like women, immigrants, gays, trans, etc. against a guy who runs his candidacy on helping the majority alternative to each of those demographics...you're fighting an uphill battle.

And I can't stress enough that this isn't me saying that you shouldn't stand for minority issues. As a minority myself, if everyone just looked at politics from a strictly logical perspective, I would be fucked lol. I mean thankfully I'd manage, but not nearly as well as I have since 2008. But the problem is, even if they're the ones who need the "least" amount of help, you still need to factor the majority into what you're fighting for. Even if it's all horseshit, you need to throw them a bone.

TL;DR: Love it or hate it, but those "straight", "white", "cis", "men" (intentionally kept separate as each is a separate demographic) make up the majority and even if they need the "least" amount of help, you still need to, at the very least, pretend that you intend to help them.

I couldn't have said it better myself.

[jaellyfishh]

The Corner Where We Met · Part 3

part 1 - part 2

trope: art teacher!azzi x PE teacher!paige

content: slow start to set the scene lol, fluff, smut, tiny angst

word count: 6.1K

The next Wednesday since that night

“Are you seeing what I’m seeing?” KK whispered to Aaliyah as she stared at the scene in front of her, the pair sitting in their usual corner table of the teacher’s lounge.

Edwards turned her head to join her colleague, nodding impressively. “They sure are giving each other googly eyes. But, like, when do they not”.

There stood Paige and Azzi, casually chatting while they waited for their lunch to heat up. It was nothing out of the ordinary from their usual break time exchanges, but somehow the air around them this time felt different - a little more affectionate.

They were smiling ear-to-ear, sometimes one was grinning at the ground after the other said something. In some moments they also giggled or had let out a light laugh, tilting their heads as they stared at each other, eyes glimmering. They were truly in their own world.

Given, their schedules haven’t exactly been aligning during school, they relished any chance they could get to see each other, even if fleeting. Whether it was Paige waiting by Azzi’s classroom door before they head to lunch or whether it was Azzi helping Paige clean their gym storage room after school; even the quick glances when they’d passed each other down the hallway or with their colleagues at lunch. They always seem to find each other.

All of a sudden, strong hands gripped the shoulders of the curious teachers. “Hey, you guys seeing what I'm seeing?” Nika had just entered the chat, Kayla right behind her.

"Girl, that's what I said! There’s a shift in the space time continuum. Did Car say anything to y’all about that night? I couldn't squeeze anything outta Azzi. And Paige kept deflecting my question," Arnold asked Nika, who took a seat beside her.

“You guys sure do seem invested in the love life of complete adults," Mühl shook her head. “But as lame as it is to admit it, this is the only thing I look forward to in my life. And no, by the way, Car and I don’t even remember what happened that night.”

Kayla sighed. “Yeah, me neither. I just remember calling Azzi ‘cause she wasn’t on the dance floor. Then she popped up outta nowhere to help us, so.”

Arnold hummed. “Didn’t Paige show up right after?”

“Yeah, she came out from the toilet,” Edwards answered as if stating the obvious.

The new information made the girls whip their heads to face Aaliyah. Then KK lifted one eyebrow, leaning towards here. “And where was Azzi coming from?”

Aaliyah slowly answered as her memory was picking back up. “Oh…the toilet. Wait-”

“You bitch,” Arnold started poking the taller girl’s sides, making her jolt. “How could you keep this from us?”

“Stop! Oh my god, I’m sorry, jeez!” Aaliyah whispered-yelled. “Listen, I was half drunk and scared for Car and Nika to piece things together, okay? Besides, I had to worry about preparing questions for pop quiz over the weekend. And then my rent was due. Don’t even mention about getting Oreo to the vet because of his ear infection-“

“Okay, you have adult things to do, we get it!” Arnold interjected, annoyed at her friend for keeping something she deemed was a really big secret.

Kayla couldn’t keep her smile from forming. “You guys don’t think-“

“What are you guys talking about?” A familiar voice startled the group of ladies.

As soon as they whipped their heads to the source, they were met with Paige and Azzi who were holding their lunch.

The women started scrambling, some resuming to munch on their food, some fumbling in their words trying to get a response out.

“Oh, you know, Aaliyah’s sick puppy,” Mühl was able to answer coolly.

“Oh, Aaliyah, I’m so sorry,” Azzi sympathised as she sat down, Paige following suit.

“H-he’s better now. Thanks, Az,” The taller girl couldn’t help but feel baffled over the sudden attention to her dog.

“So…you two seem to be very close,” Williams smiled, almost scheming.

Azzi bit her cheeks as she opened her lunch box. “I think we all have, no? We did do a bit of team building last week”.

“Is the team building in the room with us?” KK whispered while snickering. Paige couldn’t help but stifle a laugh, being she was the one sitting closer to her.

But Paige could see Azzi tense up under the guise of eating in nonchalance, her eyes scattering as she couldn’t exactly look her friends in the eye. After all, it felt like she was being interrogated by a large group of people, let alone at her workplace.

Suddenly, Azzi felt a warm touch on her thigh. The blonde had placed her hand on it under the table, her thumb rubbing on her knee hoping to ease the curly brunette’s mind. Azzi could only take pleasure in the feeling as she just continued to chew on her sandwich, her muscles beginning to relax.

And then Paige stared at Nika. “Dude, I’m still not forgiving you for vomiting on my shoes, by the way. Great team building. Now I know who to never go out drinking with”

Nika scoffed. “Yeah? Well, I wouldn’t have to if you didn’t smell horrible! Never wear that musky shit near me”.

“It’s Valentino. You just have poor taste. And shit alcohol tolerance”.

The group laughed as Nika was about to pounce on her, the tension beginning to subside.

Throughout lunch, Paige kept her hand resting on Azzi’s thigh, rubbing it occasionally when she’d remembered. It only took a few seconds for Kayla to realise her friend had scooted marginally closer to Paige, perhaps to lean in for comfort or to make the distance easier for her arm.

Kayla gave Azzi a knowing smile before joining in the momentum of the conversations.

If it's one thing for certain, as curious as the girls were about this new romantic telenovela unfolding before them, they prioritised respecting the pair even more. Of course, they had to be mature about it, they were all adults, after all. But they’d also like to think a little teasing and plotting wouldn’t hurt anyone.

—

“I’m afraid they won’t stop playing detective” Azzi told Paige as they walked down the hallway together. It sort of became a ritual for the blonde to drop Azzi to her class when she had free time, a kind gesture for…new friends.

“It’s inevitable. They weren’t as invasive as I thought they would be, though,” Paige smiled, her attention way too focused on the curly brunette.

The pair didn’t really talk much about that night. Their approach to it being quite unique to them, very casual. Regardless, they liked the subtle intimacy they have. Sure, there’s a mutual fondness for each other so far, giving lingering touches or speaking about certain personal matters, but they don’t dwell on it too much. For Paige, she had thought for a while that it could overcomplicate things and, for Azzi, it was more of fear towards her overthinking. That perhaps she’d be too overbearing once they eventually address it.

“Well, at least they’re self-aware. They know better than not to push me too hard,” The shorter girl mumbled the latter sentence, blurting it out absentmindedly as she looked straight ahead.

“Why’s that?” the blond asked curiously, unsure if Azzi was just saying it a joke or not.

As soon as Azzi went silent, Paige could tell it was something more serious.

“Oh, you know, just my past and stuff,” The younger girl tried to act dismissively. The blonde nodded in silence, understanding well not to press any further than Azzi wanted to. In fact, Paige herself would not be ready to open Pandora's box of her own past either.

“You know, I really admire you, Azzi”

Azzi raised an eyebrow. “Wait, where’s all this coming from?”

“I’m being serious. You’re a great teacher. You go above and beyond for this school and you care so much for the kids that you treat them like they’re your own. Like take my first few gym classes, for example, they always talk about how they’d rather you teach them because I’m ‘too bossy’ and that I don’t let them ‘voice their opinions’. They’re middle schoolers!”

Azzi moved her head in skepticism. “Did you do something I’m not supposed to find out?”

Paiged grunted. “Can you take the compliment for one second? Geez!”

Azzi conceded, her hands raising up in surrender. “Okay, okay, okay. But that’s just called being a decent adult, no? They’re already stressed with needing to get good grades so they can get a ‘good paying job’… they don’t need more adults nagging in their faces about it. Besides, I also think you’re doing a good job for someone who just started. You give them tough love, but it pushes them to be strong, you know? I could learn a thing or two from you, too”

Paige smiled in agreement, looking at Azzi with pride. “And that’s why I’m your favourite teacher, right?”

“Please, I think KK takes the title since she teaches high school math,” Azzi scoffed, trying to hide her smile. Paige frowned.

“Oh, that’s unlucky. ‘Cause you’re my favourite teacher, actually,” Paige lowered her head as she glanced at Azzi through her lashes, her hands behind her back as she looked at her in anticipation. A lame posture that can look charismatic.

Azzi shook her head at the way Paige tried to flirt, stifling a smile as to not give her any satisfaction.

As the air around them began to shift, they were suddenly met with a rather stout, shorter figure approaching them.

“Ms. Fudd! Moore’s favourite,” a gentle yet gruff voice sang, alerting the pair.

“Oh, hey, Principal Auriemma,” Azzi quickly redirected her sullen expression to a smile.

“I just wanna apologise again about terminating Ms. Smith’s contract. You taking up the job of two people is truly not fair. But I’m doing my best to find a recruit asap,” He gave her a sympathetic smile.

He continued. “But, I’m afraid I have even more terrible news, depending on how you take it.”

The pair gave each other a quick glance.

“As you know, Moore’s winter recital is coming up. And you must know better than me how much that means for a lot of our kids and their parents. And you’ve always done fantastic in designing the props every year. But with Ms. Smith gone and Ms. White coming back from maternity leave by the end of next month, I’ve been doing my best to ask the other teachers for help, truly, but they all seem too busy, so-“

“I can help,” Paige interrupted before Principal Auriemma could finish.

Both him and Fudd turned their heads to the taller woman, Azzi surprised.

“You said it before I could, Ms. Bueckers,” He smiled. “If that’s okay?”

“I’m always happy to help, Big G,” Paige gave a charming smile, her hands clasped behind her back as she gave a single nod.

Principal Auriemma gave a loud laugh before reaching his hand out. To Azzi’s surprise, the pair dapped each other up.

And as soon as he left the two women alone in the hallway, the curly brunette couldn’t help but laugh at what she just witnessed.

“This is KK’s doing, isn’t it?”

“Yeah, she’s honestly great influence”

As the pair giggled on their continuing path, Paige asked. “So, what are we gonna do now?”

Azzi sighed. “Well, I like to plan ahead, so I’ll make a list. We definitely need to buy some more art supplies. We can reuse the spares from last year, which could reduce overspending the budget. Wait, I don’t even know if the music and drama club students planned anything since Ms. White’s not here. Are we copying the one from two years ago? Do I have to make a new set? God, I think our Christmas Tree might even been broken-

“Azzi, Azzi, Azzi,” Paige repeated calmly, gently grabbing Fudd’s hands while her thumbs caressed them. “Breathe, please”.

The curly brunette took a deep breath before she locked eyes with Paige.

“Sorry, I feel like I have a lot on my plate right now”

“That’s why I’m here to help, right?” Azzi gave her a simple nod. “I’ll do what you need me to do since I’ve got a free period. We’ll think about everything else after school, okay?

“Okay,” Fudd croaked. “You wouldn’t mind accompanying me after school to buy our supplies?”

“Of course,” Paige smiled, her thumbs still caressing her hands.

Azzi stifled a laugh. “Okay, you can let go now”.

“Maybe I don’t want to,” The blonde grinned, her hands now gripping tighter.

They stared into each other’s eyes, one looking teasingly while the other rolling in frustration. The curly brunette was trying to pull her hands away, tugging as formally as she can without seeming too erratic. Paige stood firmly, not moving an inch, her grin remaining.

Before her defeat, Azzi turned her head with wide eyes.

“Principal Auriemma!” Azzi gasped. Paige jumped as she ripped her hands off, a nervous expression plastered on her face while she turned to where Fudd looked.

Paige saw nobody in the hallway. And Azzi was able to escape, jogging back to her class. The blonde stood alone, hands on her hips as she smiled in defeat.

—

“Freaking cheater,” The blonde startled Azzi, who was waiting idly by the gym doors.

Azzi rolled her eyes smiling as they made their way towards the exit. “You need to stop pulling that stuff here. There’s kids around, not to mention our coworkers”.

“I know, I know. I just like messing with you,” Paige shrugged, nudging her arm on Azzi’s.

“I swear you act like a high school boy sometimes,” Azzi shook her head.

“That hurts, Az. Then I guess I won’t tell you what the kids at drama club prepared for,” Paige sighed, her strides getting longer as she walked further away.

“Alright, alright, fine. But, just so you know, I won with that one,” Azzi insisted, catching up to the blonde. And Paige just let her.

After the blonde gave her the run down all the way to Fudd’s car, Azzi was relieved they didn’t have to buy much. From Paige’s intel, the kids will be redoing the songs and activities from their recital two years ago, that was as much as the high schoolers could conjure up for their school with their teacher gone.

And, in no time, the pair had driven to Walmart, ticking off everything from Azzi’s checklist before returning home to the Fudd-Ducharme household with full hands.

“Just put them on the floor there. Sorry for the mess. I’ll go get us some water,” The curly brunette panted as she dropped the bags by their sofa before heading to the kitchen to pour themselves a glass.

Paige let out sound breath before plopping herself on their brown couch, a softness to that could lull anyone to sleep. As their bodies relaxed in the quietness, Paige couldn’t help but observe her surroundings, appreciating the earth tones and somewhat eclectic design.

“Hmm, you’ve got a nice place. It feels really cozy,” The blonde sighed as her body assimilated into the sofa.

Azzi approached their living room, handing out a glass of water to Paige.

“Thanks, we worked hard on it. Trust me, this place looked like shit when we first moved in,” Azzi contorted her face in disgust as she reminisced, settling down next to Paige who sat up to take the glass off her.

“Well, you sure you’re not trying to revert back to it? Because what is all that?” Paige laughed as she pointed at the cardboard boxes accompanied by scattered tools on the ground right outside her bedroom door.

Azzi realised before laughing herself, semi-embarrassed at the state she left her house in. “Stop, I just got a new bed frame, okay? Car was helping me out yesterday, but I didn’t get time to clean up before school started.”

Paige found an opportunity. “Hm, someone got a li’l too freaky”.

“Yeah, well at least I got more game than you,” Azzi scoffed.

The blonde raised her brows. “What makes you think I don’t have any game?”

“You seem like a one-person-at-a-time individual”

“Yeah, so I can take my time talking them through it,” Paige remarked suggestively, her voice confident.

“Paige,” Azzi warned before the blonde chuckled.

“We’re not in school, so I can mess with you, can’t I?”

Azzi could only bite her cheek, unable to find a comeback. She couldn’t exactly discern the true intentions of those words, her brain already interpreting it as something that would raise the hairs of her skin.

“Speaking of Caroline, where is she?” Paige asked curiously as she sipped on her glass.

“Oh, she won’t be here for two days. Her cousin had an emergency, so she’s babysitting until they come back,” Fudd answered. "Speaking of which, I have to text her you're staying for dinner".

Hmm, how convenient, Paige muttered as she placed her glass on the table in front of them.

“Hm?” Azzi tilted her head, certain of what she heard, but still wanted to make sure.

“Hm? Oh, it’s nothing…” The blonde tried to dismiss, her body position now fully turning to Azzi, one arm on top of the sofa as her head rested on her hand.

And they just sat there staring at each other, these moments happening more and more frequently, always leaving them at a loss for words. But it was hard not to get trapped in each other’s eyes. It was as if they tried to search for unspoken answers every time, a need to do something.

“Well, I-I’m gonna order us some take out. I don’t really have left overs except for fruits, sorry,” Azzi scrambled to fetch her phone from her pocket.

Paige reached out her hand to stop Azzi. “No, it’s okay, I got you. You ran around getting all these supplies, it’s the least I can do.”

Azzi nodded. “Okay…then I’m gonna take a quick shower. I dunno how long you’ll stay tonight, but if you wanted to take one as well-”

“You asking me to join you?”

Azzi closed her eyes. “You know, at some point I’m gonna get tired of that, right?”

Paige laughed through her nose. “And I’m surprised you haven’t stopped me already”.

“Whatever. I’m gonna leave some clothes out for you,” Azzi said as she entered her room. Paige hummed in response while scrolling through the Noodles & Company menu.

Fifteen minutes later, Paige heard the common bathroom door swing open, the steam coming out as a figure came into her peripherals. For some reason, her heart started racing. Perhaps it was the subtle eroticism of it all, a possibly semi-naked Azzi within the same vicinity. And it was ironic, really, given she wasn’t afraid of almost seeing it all that night. But this time felt different. She didn’t want to raise her head too much, knowing that she wanted to give Azzi as much privacy as she could.

I’m not some creep, Paige thought.

But the freshly cleaned girl started approaching Paige. And the blonde could only clench her jaw, her eyes glued to her phone as a distraction. And just then Azzi bent down in front of her causing the blonde to jerk, her head instinctively raising up.

“Sorry, I didn’t realise I left my phone here”. Azzi was already dressed in her home clothes, they were simple. A grey shirt paired with black shorts. And she was scrunching her wet hair with a towel, trying not to drip water on the small carpet. Paige found the sight adorable. However, she was still stuck in a trance, her heart thumping for her ears only to hear.

“Paige, you good?” Azzi stifled a laugh. “Did you think I was just gonna walk around naked or something?”

A warmth grew on the blonde’s cheeks. “Absolutely not,” she replied in denial.

“Right, right. Well, the shower’s ready, just so you know,” Azzi pointed out the obvious, grinning at the state of the woman in front of her.

“Right, um, also order’s on its way, so…yeah, okay,” Paige stammered before quickly getting up, leaving the living room as Azzi continued to smile.

It was rare for Azzi to catch moments where she’d get Paige flustered, but when it happens, it’d stroked her ego just a tad bit.

Another fifteen minutes had passed and Paige had left the bathroom, fully clothed and her hair damp. As soon as she approached Azzi who was sitting on the sofa, she folded her arms in disappointment.

“Really?” was all the blonde could say before the younger girl bursted out laughing.

Azzi had given her an all bright pink attire. An oversized pink shirt with bejeweled lettering spelling out ‘Princess’ across the chest paired with shorts of the same colour.

“What? I think it looks good on you!” Azzi exclaimed with a wide smile.

The blonde let out a deep breath before plopping herself heavily beside Azzi. The curly brunette turned herself fully to Paige, her head propped up by her own hand as it rested on the head of the sofa. Feeling betrayed, the blonde turned her head the other way.

“Paige, quit sulking. You’re being a baby right now,” Azzi shoved her shoulder with her free hand.

The blonde continued to mope, not giving the curly brunette any attention. But a small smirk etched on her face where it was hidden from Azzi.

Azzi sighed. “Alright, fine”

As Azzi looked onto the blonde woman, she couldn’t help but stare at her cheeks like it’s free real estate. The curly brunette can’t lie, she craved being in any form of intimacy with Paige ever since that night. It left her on a cliffhanger, so she can’t help it when her body starts to learn towards her.

Before Paige knew it, Fudd planted a kiss on her cheek. The blonde slightly jolted before turning her head to finally face Azzi. Smile beaming as if she was waiting for that moment.

And then Bueckers pecked her lips, returning the favour, her eyes half-closed in a cheeky smile.

But before Paige let go, Azzi pushed her face forward, reattaching their lips together.

It was needy, yet tender. Impatient, yet delicate. A type of crave that could only be felt by the pair. The younger woman slid closer, deepening the kiss as she gripped Paige’s waist, the blonde’s hand remaining on her jaw as her thumb caressed Azzi’s cheek.

Paige realised that Azzi liked to kiss on her bottom lip a lot. Capturing it, sucking then biting before the blonde let out a breath in arousal.

“Hmm…you’re so pretty, Az”

Feeling warm all over by her voice, Azzi draped her thighs over Paige’s lap, straddling it in remembrance of that night. The older woman instinctively gripped Fudd’s waist, pulling her in closer, deepening the kiss even more. Their breaths were muffled, their moans swallowing each other. Azzi’s hands travelled up to cup Paige’s jaw possessively, while the blonde’s hands rubbed up her back and down her ass.

Then Azzi started grinding subtly on Paige’s core, their bodies heated. Sloppy and messy, their kiss became hungrier, their tongues continued to entangle in each other, minds growing fuzzy.

Ding dong.

The girls paused, panting. Azzi’s hands stayed gripping Paige’s jaws, the blonde’s hands glued to her ass. But their lips were magnetised and they leaned in again, resuming their make out session. It was turning them on even more, their kisses breathless-

Ding.

It was Paige’s phone notifying of the successful delivery, waking the pair up from their trance. They looked at each other rather dissatisfied by the interruption, but they soon realised they needed to eat first.

Just as Azzi was about to slowly get off Paige’s lap, the blonde pulled her back and gave her another peck.

“I’ll go get it,” Paige smiled dopily before turning Azzi’s hips to the side to settle her gently on the sofa.

Azzi smiled shyly, acting busy by moving the coke bottles on the table unnecessarily on the table she had already set. And soon enough, Paige returned with a paper bag, taking out two big containers in excitement.

“Here’s my Wisconsin Mac & Cheese, and here’s your Chicken Cobb Salad…hmm, look at all those greens in there,” Paige contorted her face in disgust.

Azzi let out a small laugh. “For a PE teacher, you sure eat unhealthy”.

“Life’s too short to trap people in a box. Let me live, Azzi,” Paige dramatically exasperated, causing the younger woman to roll her eyes.

The sun had already set and the darkness of Azzi’s home was illuminated by the array of sunset and accent lamps around the apartment. The ambient low-lighting casting shadows throughout, a perfectly cozy vibe for a weekday night.

Azzi had switched on the TV, a random movie playing as the pair were busy munching on their dinner, the atmosphere comforting.

As the flow of the night continued, the pair laughed as they shared stories of their past, mostly the weird era of college. Azzi discovered that Paige studied nursing for two years before switching majors, the reason being the financial burden and the burnout. And that she had a roommate who secretly kept a pet spider that one day escaped and conveniently sat on her pillow one night - her trauma for creepy crawlers more apparent since then. Paige learnt that Azzi’s first reason she started drawing as a kid was because she wanted to picture herself kissing Nick Jonas. And that her two younger brothers admired her so much to a point where they would insist on wearing her clothes to school to be just like her.

After dinner, the pair made their way to the kitchen. They threw away their empty containers and miscellaneous things in the trash before Paige went to wash her hands.

As she waited for them to dry, Paige leaned her back on the kitchen counter behind Azzi, watching her use the sink. When the curly brunette turned around, she was surprised at the blonde eyeing her down.

“Yes?” Azzi asked, her tone playful as she leaned her back on the sink counter.

“I kinda…don’t wanna leave yet,” The blonde pushed herself off the counter, walking over to where Azzi stood, her arms instinctively reaching out to grab her waist.

They just smiled in their intimate embrace, Azzi’s hands intuitively trailing upwards to wrap them around Paige’s neck, tilting her head before replying.

“So stay,” she whispered like she was lovesick. Then she leaned her face towards the blonde’s neck, giving feathery kisses, almost like she was trying to persuade her to stay.

Paige’s knees almost buckled this time, Azzi’s wet lips tickling on her skin. It was not like she was going to leave anyways.

As the curly brunette continued peppering sweet kisses on her jaw in neediness, the blonde couldn’t help but feel overwhelmed. She liked how possessive Azzi held onto her, not wanting to let her go.

In an instant, Paige bent her knees, lowering her arms below Azzi’s ass and, in one quick motion, she swiftly lifted her up. Azzi gasped at the romantic gesture. Reacting almost immediately, Azzi wrapped her thighs around Paige’s waist, securing herself as she looked at Paige with dark eyes.

It was bewitching and greedy, the cozy mood of Azzi’s dark apartment paired with the thought of them being all alone. Their hooded eyes stared mindlessly at each other’s mouth, the air around them thickening.

“Az, please,” Paige whispered.

Immediately, Azzi crashed her lips onto Paige’s, the moan they let out was lewd. The younger woman could feel Paige turn them around, slowly walking to the counter behind her and placing Azzi on the cold surface. The curly brunette shivered, but she kept Paige close, tightening her thighs around her as they continued to make out, Azzi’s hands finding home in Paige’s jaws.

Then Paige moved her hands. She snaked one long arm around Azzi’s waist while her other free hand fiddled with the hem of Azzi’s shirt. The older woman needed to feel her, she wanted more from that night, she wanted more of Azzi.

And just then, Paige hands went under her shirt, roaming Azzi’s ribs and sending shivers down her spine before ultimately cupping her breast.

“Hhh, Paige,” was all Azzi could breathe out.

The blonde started fondling it, squeezing and playing with the nipple. A moan escaped from Azzi’s mouth in between their make out session.

“You like that?” Paige's voice sent vibrations on Azzi’s lips.

“Mmm, yeah,” Azzi stammered, relishing in the touch.

As their movements grew more sensual, Azzi removed her lips, their foreheads touching. They grinned with closed eyes, giddy from the tension.

“Hmm?” Paige just hummed, wondering why the woman in front of her paused.

“I got a new bedframe…” Azzi leaned her head a fraction backwards, the blonde’s face in full sight. The taller woman bit her lips with hooded eyes, waiting for Azzi to continue. “I…I wanna test it out”.

Paige could only smile dopily before whispering. “Yeah, I was kinda waiting for you to say that”.

The pair giggled before Paige lifted Azzi up from the counter. The younger woman hugged Paige close, the feeling of being held like that made Azzi’s heart flutter, as if she was the most delicate person in the world. And she couldn‘t help but find her lips back on Paige’s neck again as they moved, intentionally giving slow, smacking kisses which the blonde found pleasure with the sound.

As soon as they entered her bedroom, it only took a few seconds before Azzi felt some turbulence as Paige knelt on her bed, moving towards the centre before gently laying Azzi down on her back.

Paige hovered over Azzi, both arms planted on either side of her, while Azzi’s arms and thighs remained draped around Paige. Their faces are inches away from each other. The intimacy thickened as their breaths continued to cool them down, but Azzi didn’t want the heat to go away, instead pulling Paige’s neck lower.

“I wanna finish what we started that night,” the blonde breathed out.

“Please, just,” she whispered, trying to get their lips to meet. “I want you”.

But Paige redirected her lips on Azzi’s sweet spot right below her ear instead, giving a wet kiss before mumbling. “How bad?”

Azzi let out a breathy moan. “I…I…”

Azzi was feeling overstimulated as soon as Paige’s hand traveled under her shirt, kneading her breast again.

“How bad do you want me, Az?” Paige repeated, grinning in the crook of Azzi’s neck.

Azzi was squirming, arching her back a little so that she could bring her body closer to Paige. “I’m wet,” Azzi whimpered faintly, just enough for Paige to hear.

In rushed fashion, Paige slightly lifted herself and took off her own shirt before tugging on the hem of Azzi’s shirt to pull it off her as well. Immediately the curly brunette reacted, lifting her back so Paige could remove it and throw them off to the side.

They didn’t waste any time revelling in their exposed skin, the sexual act all too familiar to them. Paige quickly leaned down again, making out with Azzi more aggressively with a type of devotion, letting out breaths in between the spaces between their tongues which became entangled in each other. Azzi roamed her fingers around Paige’s chest before landing on her breasts, kneading them as she slowly grinded their cores together, a moan escaping the blonde’s lips from the touch,

And then Paige travelled her lips down to Azzi’s breast, nibbling and sucking on it while her free hand fondled with the other, squeezing at the nipple, making Azzi moan harder. After several seconds, Paige started to go lower, giving long, sensual strides of licks down across her abdomen, Azzi’s fingers gripping tighter on her hair as she took pleasure in the foreplay.

“You’re so beautiful,” Paige mumbled in between her licks.

“Hmm,” Azzi could only sigh.

Just as Paige reached above Azzi’s centre, she latched her fingers onto the waistband of Azzi’s shorts. Paige looked up, nonverbally asking if it was okay. To which Azzi nodded, lifting her bottom slightly so Paige could tear the piece of clothing away.

The blonde marvelled at the sight, Azzi’s moist centre enticing. Immediately Paige plunged her lips onto it, making out with it first before she started sucking and flicking her tongue around her folds. The rhythmic yet irregularity of it all made Azzi dizzy while Paige moaned into it.

“Fuck, Paige”

“Hmm, you taste so good, Az”

Just then, the blonde slowly inserted her middle and ring finger into Azzi, eliciting a long, vulnerable moan from her. Paige’s long fingers started thrusting in and out, the squelching of the moist centre resonating across the room, never missing a beat as Azzi continued to whimper erratically.

“You…feel…so…good” The younger woman voiced after every thrust.

Paige took satisfaction in Azzi’s pleasure, her fingers quickening with the momentum of their lust as sweat started forming on their bodies. The curly brunette began kneading her own breasts as Paige continued her rapid, hypnotic movements. Azzi was at her peak.

“Paige, I’m gonna–“

“I got you, baby, let go,” Paige reassured as her lips hovered above her centre, eyes on Azzi’s face who was letting out erratic moans, messing up Paige’s hair as her fingers squeezed harder. Paige fastened her tempo, the exhaustion of her arm muscles gratifying.

And at her peak, Azzi let out a tight cry as she came onto Paige’s fingers, a sigh of relief heaved by the blonde as she watched the younger woman pant in satisfaction.

After slowly removing her fingers out, Paige licked them clean before carefully crawling back up to Azzi. She gently pushed the curly brunette over to her side before wiggling herself in between the bed and Azzi’s back. The blonde was big-spooning her, planting light kisses on her shoulder while their legs tangled with each other.

“You okay?” Paige asked, looking at Azzi in anticipation.

The younger woman sighed with a smile before taking Paige’s free arm and draping it across her abdomen herself. “Yeah, I just…need a minute”.

“Okay,” Paige whispered, pulling the woman in closer to her body.

They stayed in comfortable silence for several seconds, Paige’s breath tickling the back of the woman in front of her as their bodies gave each other warmth.

Azzi started. “How do you do it?”

Paige paused. “How do I do what?”

“I dunno, you have this way of making me feel comfortable about myself. I kinda hate it”

Paige twitched her head, raising her eyebrows. “What ever happened to saying ‘thank you’?

Azzi let out a small laugh. “Sorry, I just- thank you. You make me feel…nice.”

The blonde eased. “I guess it’s…from experience”.

It went silent for a moment. It wasn’t surprising to Azzi if Paige wasn’t a stranger to sex and romance, probably even having a roster, for all she cares. But the nonchalance was disconcerting.

“Hmm,” Azzi’s tone was subtly disappointed.

“What?”

Azzi paused. “Do they tell you that, too? That you make them feel nice?”

The sudden bluntness to Azzi’s question caught the both of them off guard. But the curly brunette stood by it, sighing as her eyes wandered around her room. There was a small tug from the corner of Paige’s lips, tightening her embrace with the younger woman.

“Yeah, they do. They also tell me they don’t appreciate it when I mess with them at work. Even though I know they kinda like it. You know, I think they’re probably obsessed with me, I mean, I’ve caught them stalking me sometimes”

The curly brunette suddenly turned her body around, her expression in annoyance as Paige babbled sarcastically.

“I can’t stand you sometimes”

Paige just smiled smugly. “I know”.

The blonde pulled Azzi closer by the waist, pressing a soft kiss on her forehead. The younger woman closed her eyes, savouring the sweet gesture as it made her feel important and cared for. But it didn’t take long before those thoughts were suddenly replaced with fear and anxiety. Just as Paige was about to lean towards her lips, Azzi lowered her head, her expression sorrowful.

“Hey, is it something I did?” Paige asked concerningly.

“No, it’s not you. It’s um…” Azzi hesitated, her reasoning falling short due to the fact that it harboured a lot more scarring memories which she didn’t intend to revisit just yet.

“It’s okay”. Paige could only pull her into a hug, not really knowing what was going through Azzi’s mind but intuitively understanding that it was better to give her comfort.

“I’m sorry,” Azzi muffled into her Paige’s bare chest.

“There’s nothing you need to apologise for, Az”

The curly brunette retracted her head, wanting to face Paige this time.

“Can you kiss me again?”

Paige let out a sigh through her nose, smiling with hooded eyes as an answer.

Their lips connected, this time more sweet and delicate. Paige held her tight, her touch consoling her. And soon the pair lulled themselves to sleep from the tiredness of the day.

[avelera]

Do you have any tips in how not to end up with Therapy Speak? I had the immense luck to be diagnosed very early (sarcasm) and so was in therapy pretty much my entire life, which means that Therapy Speak is very natural to me and I struggle with thinking into how normal people would speak about this.

(I started writing one version of my answer and it got REALLY LONG so I'm going to try to keep it high level this time lol even if it is still pretty long)

Really, this question comes down in general to, "How to write realistic dialogue," on the one hand but also, "How to write dialogue that propels my story," on the other.

And let me just level-set by saying how I view "therapy speak" when I discuss it here. I see therapy speak as:

A character using clinical terms to describe their state of mind, emotions, or reasons for certain kind of reactions. E.g. "depression" "anxiety" "overwhelm" etc.

A character exploring their emotions in a clinically-aided manner during conversations and/or to resolve interpersonal conflicts or perceived misunderstandings. E.g. "Sorry I lashed out at you yesterday, my anxiety got the better of me but you didn't deserve that. I'm sorry."

1 ) Consider your setting and characters.

A Medieval Knight Would Not Say That. <- This is a basic tip and I think an obvious one. If your character doesn't live in a time period or world with access to or knowledge of therapy or good mental health practices, it will take your reader out of the story if they suddenly bust out with, "Sorry I overreacted yesterday, I was feeling overwhelmed because of my anxiety."

Frankly, if a story is set anywhere that isn't after the 2010s in certain therapy-friendly population centers in the US, for example, (the US is pretty unique in its widespread access and favorableness to therapy, even compared to Europe and Asia let alone other parts of the world), therapy would still be rare enough that you'd need to tell my how and why this person had access to it and how and why they expect the person they're talking to to also be versed in this sort of framing of conflict resolution or self reflection.

That said, there's still a lot of places in the world and a LOT of demographics where access to therapy or even exposure to it enough to have an understanding of it is pretty rare and even in the US it's very determined by demographics. For example, a 50 year old male school teacher might be open to it, but a 50 year old male truck driver might look at you like you have two heads if you suddenly start talking about your feelings to them in an open and clinical manner.

Then again, real people are varied and nuanced so it's perfectly possible that your grizzled 50 year old truck driver might be binging self-help podcasts on his long drives and be surprisingly very well versed! It could be a really delightful story beat, but you do have to kinda explain to me as the audience how he came across this knowledge since it would be unexpected for him to have it.

Now, this is not to say that no one outside of those exposed to therapy speak has any exposure to introspection or access to their emotions. But, they might not be armed with the clinical terms or techniques.

2 ) Consider what people would say instead.

And when considering what someone would say, consider:

Do they have the clinical terminology to describe what they're feeling?

Do they have the tools to manage their emotions even if they don't have the terminology?

Do they have the tools, terminology, or even the interest in resolving the conflict?

"I'm having a panic attack!" -> "I feel like a giant fist has closed around my lungs, I can't seem to breathe!" - This could be something said by someone who can describe the feelings of a panic attack but doesn't have the knowledge or tools to know what they're experiencing. This could be a Medieval knight speaking or even a totally modern person who doesn't know what a panic attack is or can't believe that a panic attack could happen to them.

Note 1: If you're writing a period piece, plenty of other eras had ways of describing certain feelings, so a Victorian era person might say "melancholia" and mean clinical depression, or a Medieval person could be bipolar and think, idk, maybe that they're possessed or bedeviled by demons. You should inquire into the tools people would have at their disposal, even if they're inaccurate to our modern understanding.

Note 2: Even when people know about clinical terms they might be unable or unwilling to admit clinical things can happen to them. Admitting you have, say, clinical depression can be very scary for people. It could represent a huge change in their life or their self-perception. So they might say something like, "I don't know, I've just been in a very dark place for months and months now." They might be scared to admit this to anyone at all, not unless it's someone they really trust, and even if they trust this person, they might still lash out if they're told, "Uh, buddy, that's depression. You need help." because of what a big shift this might represent to their self-perception. People don't like to hear there's something "wrong" with them or admit it to themselves. Hence, they might be reluctant to admit this at all or if they do, they might downplay it.

"Sorry I lashed out at you, I was overwhelmed and I took it out on you and that wasn't fair." -> "I don't know, it just felt like everything you said kept pissing me off and now I'm pissed off that I yelled at you when it wasn't your fault, which pisses me off even more!" -> This could be someone who doesn't understand the clinical terms AND doesn't have tools to manage their emotions but DOES have an interest in resolving the issue with the other person, albeit not in the calmest manner. This might apply to, say, an angry anime protagonist lol.

"You're the most beautiful girl in the class and I'm not sure if I want you or want to be you, but I haven't come out yet to anyone including myself, so all I have inside me are these big confusing emotions of desire and fear and admiration all mixed together, leaving me unsure of what to do or how I feel about you. I just wish these feelings would go away somehow." -> *Passes crush a note that says*,"Get the hell out of my class!" -> This could be someone who doesn't understand their emotions, doesn't have the tools to express them AND doesn't have an interest in resolving the conflict in a constructive way.

3 ) Consider if resolving the conflict constructively is even good for the story you want to tell.

Stories thrive on conflict. Conflict doesn't need to mean interpersonal drama or screaming arguments or saving the world. But two people sitting down and hashing out all their emotions can act as the climax of the story, in that it resolves and airs out a lot of the simmering tension that could be otherwise used to propel a story further.

For example, a "will they/won't they" love story is resolved when two characters sit down and hash out that they have feelings for each other. That could mark the end of the story entirely. If you feel you've written yourself into a corner, maybe it's because the characters used therapy speak to get everything out there in a constructive way too clearly or too soon and now you've written yourself into a corner if you wanted the story to continue.

(Of course, infinite variations are possible. You could have two characters thoughtfully work out that they DON'T have feelings for each other, only for one to walk away and realize they DO have feelings and now they're worried about revealing those because the other person just laid out so thoughtfully and rationally that they don't have feelings back. Just because people DO communicate doesn't mean the situation can't CHANGE.)

But in order to have characters realistically hold things back, you need to think about the other pressures there might be in their life that would keep two people from sitting down and hashing out every little nook and cranny of thoughts and feelings they might have.

For example, pride or fear - society tends to look down on people, especially male-socialized people, when it comes to openly expressing their emotions. (Or, if you want to divorce it from gendered considerations, let's say a warrior society might or might not be ok with free expressions of emotion that might be considered "weakness".)

Even crying during moments of horrible pain or stress can and has been a source of mockery for many men (and women!), so they could very likely have been socialized out of openly expressing emotions that make them feel vulnerable as a matter of maintaining their pride.

Even if they want to express those emotions, they might fear the negative reaction of the person they're talking to (who could tell them to "stop being a baby!" or "man up!" or "go cry somewhere else!" etc.). This can be especially true for big moments of self-reflection like coming out, or expressing romantic feelings for someone, or expressing that they've been struggling with and masking negative emotions for a long time and are reaching a desperate limit. These are things that can change other people's perspective of you, not always for the better, and the fear of that can prevent people from being open about their feelings.

Personal Note: Too often in fanfic-land, I see fics always coming down on the side of "These fears were silly, the person they're talking to was always going to be understanding and accepting!" which isn't reflective of the real world! Sometimes people, even well-meaning people, might be put off by powerful displays of emotion, or not interested in a relationship through no fault of their own and it DOES make it weird if a friend confesses feelings, and then sometimes people aren't well meaning!

It can be refreshing to see a story that expresses that sometimes these fears of being open and honest about big emotions are valid. Not all family members are cool and understanding about coming out (unless that's the catharsis your story is going for!). Not all people are ok with having someone confess their love for them. Not all people are comfortable with a friend or a comrade in arms saying they're coming close to cracking under the strain.

So these are valid, real life fears, that can serve as valid, real life barriers for why people might not open up to another person and lay out everything they're thinking and feeling as if this person is their therapist.

Generally speaking, the best stories (to me) are the ones that give multiple in-universe reasons why someone doesn't tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth in an open, rational, and clinical manner about how they're feeling. The more outside pressures you can layer on, the less visible the hand of the author is, the better. For example:

Time - the characters didn't have time for a long sit down about their feelings. The world is ending/ the big THING is about to happen soon .They had to make the conversation brief.

Not wanting to lose a friendship - Sure, being in a relationship would be great, but losing the friendship if the love confession makes things weird would be terrible.

Not wanting to lose the position/prestige/job you wanted - a warrior or even an office worker might be cracking under the strain of their mental health, but if they ask for help, they could be fired, or shunned, or removed from the mission. They want to keep their position more than they want help, so they'll speak in circles around or minimize the struggles they're facing.

Other stuff gets in the way - when the world is ending or the external events are piling up, it might just not be the right time or place to discuss your innermost feelings. It might be inappropriate to do so if other people are suffering or even dying all around you. Heck, admitting you feel depressed when the person you're talking to just lost a loved one and is in an even darker place might feel deeply inappropriate. So if you've got a lot of characters running around dealing with a LOT of events, sitting down for a therapy-speak conversation might even feel ludicrous to indulge in as many people tend to put their emotions and wellbeing pretty far down on the list of important things to deal with, especially if they haven't been trained or socialized to prioritize them.

Without getting into a more specific story it's hard to give more specific advice. And there's the eternal caveat to all of this that sometimes an open conversation about emotions that is aimed at resolving a conflict or misunderstanding is the point of a story, especially in fanfic which often likes to explore things that canon doesn't do.

Everything should, in the end, be in service to the story you want to tell. This is just my view on some things to think about when trying to write more realistic dialogue. And of course, as always, when in doubt about dialogue, listen to real people and read your dialogue aloud to see if it sounds natural, if natural dialogue is your goal.

[evilminji]

Question! Because it's bugging me!

But also... COULD it work?

Tianlang-jun. The mountain.

A tragedy of many parts.

The man is stuck, in pain, but he is a full blooded Heavenly "Not Even The God's Could Kill Us" Demon. So? His death is slow. A chipping away of ten million life points, one by one. Effective, yes, BUT...?

Only so long as he's IN the Seal... right?

His power is locked away. Stopped. In a "pinned down and AOE" Sort of way. Because anything DIRECTLY effecting? His body will laugh derisively at, then fuckin EAT.

But! He can't HEAL inside that Seal. So the chip effect IS gonna take him out. Eventually.

Is it Cruel? Very. But it's effective.

However!!!

According to Shen Yuan? Luo Binghe has been able to heal from lost limbs, in PIDM. From, we can only assume, getting stabbed through vital organs. All while being? HALF his father's blood... and a FUCKING BABY in comparison to experience.

Tianlang-jun has been rocking around for A WHILE.

Theoretically?

You COULD...? Cut him in half.

He'd fuckin walk it off. I'm completely serious. After all, so long as his HEAD and preferably his heart were in tact? Meh. It'll SUCK... but he just needs food, rest, and A LOT of QI.

Now, I'm not saying it'd be as "lol, you thought that'd WORK?" As it normally would be. He's been fucked up pretty bad. His health is delicate right now. (For the given quality of that) But like?

Collect the blood he IS bleeding. Put it under stasis, in a demonic Qi rich environment. Prep a medical bay of sorts. Bring him MEDICINE while he's IN the seal to boost him. Good ol clean water, food, and keep him up to date on the plan etc.

Then get HIS help? To cut him in half. As close to the crush point as possible! The trapped him under a mountain. Yes. His power doesn't work. EXTERNALLY. But can it work INTERNALLY? Can he prepare, mentally, for it to START working? Keep his blood from LEAVING the half that contains his brain?

Don't fall asleep, you Majesty. You need to make your own circulatory system until your lower half heals enough to have veins again.

And "oh no! The seal won't let us carry him out!"? Pssssh. You are like BABIES.

Side Step that Fucker! Who ever said we were going through the front door? We make our own rules in THIS house!

Get in the Qiankun pouch, your Majesty!

The we either run like we totally just alerted those gold wearing bastards to our jail break (cause we probably did) OR we go through the teleport method of your choice! To the medical bay. Where Tianlang-jun gets a nice, emergency, talismans(sry, I know you hate them and probably now have trauma) cleaning, and gets lovingly dumped into the blood tub.

Of blood! You know... HIS blood. The blood we saved (and Qi soaked) from him!

Have some steak. Looooots of steak, your Majesty. Mmm, those muscles repairing red meats! Bone too. Qi for days. No, no, you sit your ass back down! Healing first. THEN vengance!

@mayfay @legitimatesatanspawn @spidori @babbling-babull @hdgnj

[lilianne-tarot]

How the Universe Has Its Way of Guiding You, and That's Okay

TW: TLDR

I have always trusted in the universe's plan in every step of my life. When things took an ugly turn for me, when I failed at things I thought I was the best at, when I couldn’t get the things I was desperate for, I questioned the universe, "Whyyy mee?" but We, as humans, tend to run after things that feel out of our reach. A lot of us chase things—even the wrong things sometimes. But the reality is universe gives us what we need, not what we want, and that’s the difference. We often realize this too late in our journey.

A very cliché quote, "Every rejection is a redirection," is what I live by. Another famous quote from a writer says, "If things go according to your wishes, that's good. But if they go according to God's will, that's even better because it is happening the way He wants, and God will never wish anything bad for you." My mom taught me this very early in life and I reminded it to myself every time I hit rock bottom.

I have always been very intuitively blessed, and even when things were about to take a turn for me, I could feel it coming. A perfect example of how the universe gives signals in the most unexpected ways happened 2 months ago ago. I was in an awful situation, really fighting for something, feeling desperate, so I resorted to my love, my tarot cards, for guidance. As I pulled the cards, I did it multiple times because our energy really affects the cards we draw, and I was confused and anxious. But one thing kept happening: the World card kept appearing in my readings, whether through jumper cards, as a shadow card, or just somehow showing up every time.

Even though I know the meanings of my cards well, being human, I needed reassurance. So, I searched through my books—found the meaning—but left it there and went on with my day. Later that day, I randomly opened this app and saw a post explaining, "What does it mean when the World card shows up multiple times in a reading?" The moment I read that post, I had the biggest breakdown. It was like the universe was speaking directly to me, showing me how miraculously and unexpectedly it sends signals. And last week I passed the test successfully. I am finally eligible for the course I badly wanted to attend. Ultimately, the universe wasn’t lying that day. I was grinning ear to ear when I saw my results. The power the universe holds is beyond our contemplation.

The way I write my readings, I heavily credit my loneliness and ADHD for it. Funny, isn’t it? Personally, even though I have always had really supportive friends, I never had someone I could connect with on a soul level and share my deepest thoughts with. So, I resorted to journaling and talking to myself. I used to take night walks just to let out all of my thoughts to my invisible friend who would never judge me.

Two years ago, I got really serious about my tarot hobby when I was super burdened with my studies and other stuff. I started asking questions about myself and writing my own interpretations in my diary—the way I wished someone would tell me those things. I would reread them later, and that became my little comfort, even if I exaggerated things there but it gave me the happiness I was looking for at that time. Over time, my style evolved. I got better at reading the cards, better at articulating my thoughts, and when I started doing readings for others, I saw the impact it had. When people told me, "This made my heart warm," or "This gave me so much clarity," I felt so proud to be able to do that for others.

One fine day, I stumbled upon this community—completely out of the blue. The funny part is I didn’t even expect this app to have a tarot community, LOL. But when I found it, I binge-read so many posts here. And then an idea struck me: "What if I share my own readings here?" So, I made my blog. Unexpectedly, I received so much love—more than I ever imagined. It might sound like an exaggeration, but I truly feel like I found my soul family here.

None of this was planned. And that’s exactly how the universe works. It guides us in ways we don’t always see at first. Sometimes, we’re too focused on what we think we want that we don’t recognize what we truly need. But the universe has its way of showing us—through signs, through redirections, through moments of clarity that hit us unexpectedly. And when we finally look back, we realize that everything was aligning perfectly all along.

i hope i was able to bring some reassurance and comfort to anyone who might be going thorough a rough time and looking for a signal from the universe. 💗

With love, Lilianne.

Masterlist ⭑ Paid services ⭑ Ko-Fi

[cokoakeostuff]

KEO!!!! Your art is so good! I seriously love it!! I was kicking my feet at poor wars reaction when he realized what was going on!

Okay so I know you said that not everyone really has all of their gear with them right? But I ALSO saw you mention that Time does still have a lot of the masks so does he have any of them with him that you want/can share??

I would love if he had some of the more silly ones with him like the Bunny Hood or even the Bremen mask (it's my favorite)!! <33

First of all THANK YOU SO MUCH WAAH.

NOWW about time: yes he carries his masks (even the silly ones) with him and I’m actually working on something related to that! because I need a little break from the main line lol.

Noww the question is, why is Time using that mask and with who? 👀

[skeletonh0e]

A little request relating to the weather I’m dealing with the rn.

The boys reacting to their first thunderstorm/tornado. Especially with a Y/N who is just used to them. Sleeps through loud ass storms and goes through the protocol for a tornado yawning. Not ignoring the boy’s distress(if they have any) but just very used to it themselves. 🌪️⛈️

Heard about the crazy ass weather, thankfully I'm on the other side of it. Ya'll stay safe out there.

Some of these boys are gonna be IN for it considering the underground does uh, not have tornados lol. Gender neutral reader

The boys vs the Weather

Classic Sans:

He's heard of storms yeah and even made his own little tiny tornado, but uh-

The weather in the underline hardly changes and everything here is so chaotic what in the god damn

He's composed but definitely a sense of worry there

The fact you remain so chill is extremely off putting to him at first but it helps as it can show him this isn't anything to panic over

Plus also probably a good idea one of you knows what to do

Asks for advice on how you manage to sleep so peacefully through them, he'd like to do too but he'll settle for snuggling up to while you sleep waiting for it to pass

Underswap Sans:

P A N I C

The magnificent Sans isn't ready for this! What gods have the humans offended to deserve this!?

You'll have to talk him down, but thankfully it won't take him too long to recover. Though he'll be a bit jump

Listens to you explain the precautions intensely, definitely having a game plan for next time

Probably starts an epic speech about you two being the ultimate power couple going through this then yelps when something hits the window

He'll just uh....stay close to you for now

Underfell Sans:

"What the fuck is this bullshit!?"

Honestly though less anger and more genuinely being flabbergasted

And you're used to this!? Really!? You're so weird what the fuck (you will have to deal with him bitching and complaining the entire time)

Grumpily takes some safety protocols and keeps a close on the progression of the storm as if trying to determine his own right move

He can handle it and learn to adjust the best probably but still grouchy a bit

Might use it as an excuse to day drink after its over (you could both probably use it depending on the storm tbh)

Underlust Sans:

Oh he doesn't like this at all

Not shitting his pants with fear or anything but he definitely is more on edge during the whole thing

Cool that you're used to this, but he's not. Don't mind him, just idly hovering close to you constantly double checking about everything.

He'll be kinda noisy and ask how you manage to stay calm, how many times have you been through these, blah, blah

Honestly keeping him distracted with conversation will help

Maybe listen to some music with him to block out the noise while you snuggle up, he might just be able to fall asleep with you

Horrortale Sans:

The fuck? Doesn't know whether to be impressed, concerned or just annoyed by the inconvenience of it all.

Whatever he's definitely sticking near you, protective primal instincts have been activated

Won't ask for it but probably also give him some reassurance, tell him things will be fine. He naturally has come to expect the worst outcome due to trauma.

Type to stare out the window with a blank expression, just watching the harsh wind tearing everything to shreds....it's a little concerning....

Silent for the most part but does occasionally ask questions and ask if you're okay

Glad you're calm but also wants be there for you too

Fresh Sans:

Here comes the hurricane bitch(tm) starts playing

Okay there's A LITTLE concern, less on his end and more for your own but the fact that you're just chill about it kinda puts him at ease

But ya know....he can dimension jump, you really don't gotta deal with it.

You don't wanna end up in Oz (though he'll happily be the wizard while you're dorothy or...the scarecrow?....or something idk the reference joke got away from him)

Might wanna keep an eye on him though as he gonna skateboard in a tornado if you ain't looking but also he like nearly completely indestructible so

Might hover over you while you sleep through an particularly extreme storm, a rare protective moment from him

Killer Sans:

Pretty.....

Like actually low key fascinated by storm and the sheer amount of destruction they cause, the type to watch the forecast of the outcomes the same way ppl might watch a light show

Maybe if you freaked out he'd be a bit worried but for the most part you seem to know what you're doing so-

As long as you aren't in any active harm or visible distress

He's content to just watch the storms and the panic they cause

Though of course he can always use his short cuts to get you out of there if worst comes to worst

Dust Sans:

Nooooope

Too much anxiety for this, the two of you are LEAVING

You're uh, kinda not given much of the choice in the matter.

If you insist on staying anyway, he might just let you with a huffy "have fun dying" before he storms off

Uh lil reminder none of the bad sanses are 100% healthy partners

He will actually come to your rescue if the storm is extremely severe to the point you might be in legit danger, but even ignoring that he'll do something to apologize non verbally. What kind of depends on how salty you are about it.

Nightmare Sans:

Also in the camp of "not dealing with this" and instantly drags you to his realm

If you try to stay, well here's the thing-

He's not asking

Also not the healthiest partner out there but this is all coming from a good place. Besides he's not wrong in that this is the easiest option

Stay in his castle, everything is handled.

Admittedly a little.....impressed? (For lack of a better word) by your abilitt to stay calm even during such extreme storms though even if he doesn't experience this side of you fully

[crowwolf]

This is Kitalia - She's a bit creepy, pretty - SHORT 4'11", and tiny at about 90 lbs - and made of pure chaos. She's 1/2 mixed up fey ancestry, 1/4 wood/Sylvan elf, and 1/4 unknown... She's a shadow sorcerer/bard

1. How would they define love if asked

They wouldn't really know. Kitalia was brought up in an extremely harsh way, rescued eventually, then raised in a way that they thought would make her wily and independent. No physical show of real love, no words of love, just survival of the fittest and I'll check in to make sure you're alive.

2. When someone says "this is [character name] coded," what comes to your mind

A mix of Kit Deluca from pretty woman, Harley Quinn a la Suicide Squad, and a manic pixie

3. if somebody told the character that they admire them what would they feel and how would they react to it

Kitalia would laugh her ass off - literal tears, grabbing her belly, full on can't even talk laugh. She doesn't believe anyone would ever feel like that towards her.

4. How much weight do they give to others' opinions of them

Acts like she gives zero fucks. Internalizes it ALL. Full of inner voices screaming at her.

5. When bad things happen, do they usually think it happened to them or because of them.

All because of her. Always because of her. All her fault.

6. How well do they cope with the reality of their mortality

Welllll...this is a tricky one. I don't want to give too many spoilers, but suffice it to say she doesn't. She's old. Way older than she looks. Younger than folks like Raphael, but older than Halsin old.

7. How easily and frequently do they ask for help

She doesn't. Ever. Asking for help would show she can't survive on her own, her caregiver would consider that weakness. Once she is finally settled in a loving life and is finally comfortable enough she will ask occasionally - but this is centuries of not doing that, so it will take time.

8. What is their perspective on religion and the concept of God

LOL that's a loaded question. She's BG3 universe - Gods and Goddesses are real. She's ambivalent about them, hates some, has a deep love for a certain one - but not a worshipful love.

9. When in pain do they take it out on others or do they keep it inside She will internalize it until it's bursting out and end up taking it out on others - usually someone she picks as an enemy, but often anyone nearby.

10. Their most defining moment vs your favorite one of them

Meeting her bff. In the modern Au that's Ryldinn, @vera-king-hrfl 's OC. They are obviously not related, but fuck if they don't act like twins that were never separated. They have their own hand language and everything. These two bonded hard. In regular BG3, I'm HC that my girl gets with @vera-king-hrfl's other OC Max, the half-orc - bffs turned lovers. Which is hilarious. Giant half-orc, tiny crazy fey lady.

11. One word they'd use to describe themselves, one you'd use to describe them and lastly a word that their closest/loved one would use to describe them

Chaos. Kit would probably say free. Loved ones - um, would be two words - ferociously loyal/loving (once she's bonded to them)

12. How committed are they to their principles, and what might get them to abandon them

LOL um, well, she'd never hurt a kitten so I guess that's something. The only thing she is committed to are the ones who have somehow managed to gain her trust and love - she would never abandon or compromise on that, even on pain of death

13. Is there a moral line they would never cross

See above - if it doesn't involve loved ones, she has zero fucks

14. What could be considered as their worst moment

Absolute worse moment for her would have to be being rejected by the one who has her heart after all this time or her *perceived* rejection - they may be trying to propose awkwardly but she's no compass in regards to interpersonal shit and would think they were leaving her...she'd break. She'd run off before they could actually make their point and they'd have to try to find her. Which would require help because she's been raised to basically be a chameleon when it comes to hiding. She's epic hide and seek material.

15. Do they have a stomach for violence and harm and if so do they only do it out of necessity or at any whim

LOL She's chaos - you hurt someone she cares for - verbally or physically, doesn't matter - she will FUCK you up. Short fuse for anyone not in her inner circle.

16. Do they idolize anyone, if so why is that

Her grandfather - he was her caregiver, the one who checked to make sure she was alive, but left her to fend for herself - finding her own food and shelter. Occasionally he would stay for extended periods to teach her new killing methods, new fighting skills, new languages, new anything sneaky and assassin like (she's not an assassin). Getting her to show him her latest magic or songs. He will praise her but is very biting in any criticism - his vision for her is make her tough, fast, invisible. That's it.

17. How open are they to change their viewpoints on matters

Depends on the situation. Most times - she goes with the flow...unless it's something she's fierce about, then not at all

18. Are they vengeful or do they easily forgive and forget or do they not forgive but don't go as far as acting on that

She absolutely holds a grudge and has a long LONG memory

19. What's their strongest emotion, the one which mostly rules them and compells them to action

Devotion. Once she has her found fam - her devotion to them will make her take the dumbest of risk. She won't care about living or dying, as long as her loved ones are safe.

20. Are they more inclined to take or give

Give. She wants nothing (she thinks).

21. How much do they prioritize their own survival, and what lengths would they go to for self-preservation

Girl was raised to hide and watch the shadows - she'd sit for days without food or water before moving if there was a threat big enough. BUT once with her found family - she prioritizes them...oh wait, basically the same.

22. What is their relationship with their body like She doesn't really think about it. It's her survival engine. I mean, she knows she's objectively attractive, but was extremely abused as a young child and has a disconnect between what her body means.

23. How connected do they feel to their community and society

Not at all - except her found fam

24. Do they self harm and if so in which way

Unintentionally - see survival instincts above. She was starved as a child and her growth stunted, she doesn't always know when she's hungry, but when she has access to food - watch out. She has the metabolism of a hummingbird and can out eat most people twice her size - but has to do it over a period of time. She's tiny = small stomach. If she eats too fast, she'll vomit and be in pain, so she learned to eat small portions a little at a time. This can be extremely difficult when always trying to stay hidden away and quiet. Once with her found fam - she's constantly got food in her hand or pockets - they'll even start carrying snacks for her in case she gets hungry and has nothing. It's the only way to keep her healthy.

25. What's the worst physical or mental pain they've ever endured

When she was very young, her father's best friend slit his throat in front of her and stole her away for nefarious purposes - physical, mental, sexual. She's a long lived person - maturing is slow. She was FAR too young for any of it. Eventually, the abuser let their guard down and the spell they used to shield her from her living family faded enough for her grandfather to rescue her. Grandfather of course slaughtered the abuser, and did at least take her somewhere relatively safe-ish to heal physically. She doesn't remember her father, though if she did she'd know he loved her deeply and was amazing. She never healed mentally - not properly, not ever - the abuser had her for decades. It's absolutely a large reason she's chaos - if you asked me her alignment - I just say chaos, there is nothing else. She does what she does to live, to protect herself, her loved ones and that's that.

26. How do their family and their relationship with them influence their perspective and the way they navigate life

She never had real love in her life - not the true I want what's best for you and won't ever force you do to shit type of love. It's crazy to her - and once she has it, she guards it as the most precious of treasures. Physical items are meaningless to her - she was always homeless - having things, meant carrying them wherever she went and that was pointless. So having a home, a family - mind blowing. She'll sometimes have panic attacks when she thinks on it too much.

27. Are they content with their sexuality and gender expression? would a difference in their sexuality and gender affect their role in the story and if so how

My lady is pan and is who she is. She'll fuck whoever she wants but doesn't really understand people being emotional over it. Until she has her family and learns love - that makes her see it...

28. How much importance do they place on their appearance, and on others' appearance

LOL none - she gives zero fucks. Astarion insists on dressing her because she would happily wear rags. BUT she'll sit with him and Shadowheart to judge what the patriars are wearing.

29. What criteria do they use to assess others' character

Will they hurt and/or kill me? If no - yay! If yes - kill them first.

30. Do they take themselves too seriously

Never.

31. How easily do they forgive themselves after making a mistake and how easily do they forgive others

Kitalia doesn't forgive herself, she makes herself correct any mistakes if she can, and if she can't - she carries on. Others - that's a loaded one. If it's her fam - it depends on what they did. If it's someone outside her inner circle, well - they FAFOed.

32. Are they more concerned with the bigger picture or are they hung up on the details

Neither really. Maybe the smaller details - best place to find food, best place to hide, best place to protect.

33. Do they prioritise other people's needs over their own or the other way around

Found family first, then her, then others if there's time

34. What do they believe their hands were made for

Magic and music

35. Do they consider themselves lucky or privileged

nope

36. What is their level of emotional intelligence and social adeptness

LOL the depth is an inverted pool...poor woman, she has zero clue socially and emotionally so stunted she makes tweens look mature. She understands herself more than people think, but social cues and reading emotions - nada.

37. Presented with three different ponds offering eternal health, strength, or wealth, which one would they choose to drink from, they can only drink from one

Health

38. In the event of an apocalypse with only one limited safe haven available, whom or what would they prioritize bringing along

Her loved ones - which are very very few...

39. If they could end one thing—be it a person, ideology or misfortune—what would they choose to eradicate

Poverty - no one should have to dig through trash for food.

40. Would breaking their heart be a quick task or would it require significant effort

It would be quick and brutal

41. Are they comfortable expressing their emotions and thoughts

Not at all.

42. If given the chance to bring back someone from the dead, who would they choose and why

Her father. She's been told he loved her deeply just because she was his daughter. She doesn't even remember his face.

43. With whom or when do they feel most authentic and true to themselves

Alone with her significant other(s) - absolutely no one else around.

44. Do they believe they are more in control or being controlled (by others, their circumstances or their life in general) and are they correct in their assumption

Neither really. She knows she's not really in control, but she's so much chaos that no one can ever truly control her.

45. What is their fatal flaw

Her extreme loyalty to her found family - she would kill herself to save them. Also - her complete lack of care for herself.

46. To what extent does shame or guilt influence their psyche.

Her psyche is damaged from decades of abuse...not really sure she understands either emotion - but once with her found family they help her to recognize and cope (as much as she can) with them. Her youth was stolen from her so she feels no shame or guilt for those decades - but when she does, she buries it deep until it comes out in nightmares.

47. If they were an object, Which material(s) would they be made of Spider silk - incredibly strong, but fragile

48. What gets them out of the bed each morning and how obvious is that motivation to those around them

Survival - once she's with her found fam - they do. She's not totally dependent on them for that, but they give her more of a purpose in life that she lacked

49. Do they believe there's a cause, person, or a goal worth sacrificing their life for

Her family

50. If faced with a magical mirror revealing their deepest fear and greatest desire instead of their reflection, what would they see and would they be surprised by it

Greatest fear would be being alone forever. Greatest desire - just *being* with her loved one(s)

51. What does responsibility mean to them and do they embrace it or take it on reluctantly

Responsi-what? Yeah - it's reluctant - she's utterly clueless to *normal* life shit.

52. Does their race significantly shape their personality or is it more of a background aspect

It absolutely shapes everything about her - her lineage is insane (in variation of fey creatures and other), it's a smorgasbord of characteristics and eccentricities that make her who she is. IF she had been raised by her father, she may (big MAY) have been more stable - understanding more of those around her. But her upbringing, and DNA have made her just a hurricane in a body

53. How entitled do they feel to others' emotions, time or labor

Not at all. Never even want to be perceived as needing anything from anyone.

54. Are they more likely to do a good deed if they know it will be noticed or do they not care about acknowledgment

Nope - zero fucks given. If they do something good it's because she wanted to.

55. Do they live in the past, the present or the future

The present - she has to.

56. How do they go about making decisions: do they consult a particular individual, rely on a trusted group, consider input from anyone willing to share or solely trust their own judgment

On the fly in the most chaotic nonsensical way possible. Once in a place of trust - her bff or s/o

57. How likely are they to intervene if they witness something illegal or immoral, If they choose to get involved what method do they typically use, Does their eagerness to correct the situation and their approach vary depending on the perpetrator's status, closeness or strength

I suppose it depends on the act - if it's against a child - she will intervene. Children and animals. If it's anything else she doesn't even bat an eye. If it's after she's in a secure place - well, it would depend on the situation.

58. When it comes to hope do they view it as: impractical or necessary and why is that

She doesn't understand hope until she's with her people - her found fam. Once she's in that place hope becomes an absolutely necessity.

59. Do they tend to overwork themselves

Nope

60. What type of smart are they

Kitalia knows most languages of Faerun - and some from Feywilds, and others - she is very intelligent BUT she was never taught to read and has ZERO interest in learning. She's very old - so, yes, some things she can read just via exposure to them - city signs, street signs - shit like that. She can read a map in that she understand the design of it and has a superior sense of direction. But let's just say Gale of Waterdeep is flabbergasted by her complete lack of book knowledge. However, she can chat the ear off near any race. She has a musical ear as well, which is probably part of why languages are so simple for her - she can pick anything up by ear. In modern parlance, she would probably have been called a prodigy - but she doesn't care - it's just another skill she learned to survive.

61. If they could make people do whatever they wanted without any consequences, would they use that power and if so how

um, leave her and her loved ones alone and feed her all at once. She's really not complicated

62. Which of the following do they have the hardest time accepting: affection, money or help

That's a hard one - she doesn't really get money. She's lived on the outskirts of civilized society and usually takes/steals what she needs sometimes making money by busking (bard) but is easily fleeced because she can't read and doesn't understand money well at all. BUT she will not ask for help either - which means it's just a continuing vicious cycle until a certain group swoop in and bring her into their fold.

Characters/OCs asks

1. How would they define love if asked

2. When someone says "this is [character name] coded," what comes to your mind

3. if somebody told the character that they admire them what would they feel and how would they react to it

4. How much weight do they give to others' opinions of them

5. When bad things happen, do they usually think it happened to them or because of them

6. How well do they cope with the reality of their mortality

7. How easily and frequently do they ask for help

8. What is their perspective on religion and the concept of God

9. When in pain do they take it out on others or do they keep it inside

10. Their most defining moment vs your favorite one of them

11. One word they'd use to describe themselves, one you'd use to describe them and lastly a word that their closest/loved one would use to describe them

12. How committed are they to their principles, and what might get them to abandon them

13. Is there a moral line they would never cross

14. What could be considered as their worst moment

15. Do they have a stomach for violence and harm and if so do they only do it out of necessity or at any whim

16. Do they idolize anyone, if so why is that

17. How open are they to change their viewpoints on matters

18. Are they vengeful or do they easily forgive and forget or do they not forgive but don't go as far as acting on that

19. What's their strongest emotion, the one which mostly rules them and compells them to action

20. Are they more inclined to take or give

21. How much do they prioritize their own survival, and what lengths would they go to for self-preservation

22. What is their relationship with their body like

23. How connected do they feel to their community and society

24. Do they self harm and if so in which way

25. What's the worst physical or mental pain they've ever endured

26. How do their family and their relationship with them influence their perspective and the way they navigate life

27. Are they content with their sexuality and gender expression? would a difference in their sexuality and gender affect their role in the story and if so how

28. How much importance do they place on their appearance, and on others' appearance

29. What criteria do they use to assess others' character

30. Do they take themselves too seriously

31. How easily do they forgive themselves after making a mistake and how easily do they forgive others

32. Are they more concerned with the bigger picture or are they hung up on the details

33. Do they prioritise other people's needs over their own or the other way around

34. What do they believe their hands were made for

35. Do they consider themselves lucky or privileged

36. What is their level of emotional intelligence and social adeptness

37. Presented with three different ponds offering eternal health, strength, or wealth, which one would they choose to drink from, they can only drink from one

38. In the event of an apocalypse with only one limited safe haven available, whom or what would they prioritize bringing along

39. If they could end one thing—be it a person, ideology or misfortune—what would they choose to eradicate

40. Would breaking their heart be a quick task or would it require significant effort

41. Are they comfortable expressing their emotions and thoughts

42. If given the chance to bring back someone from the dead, who would they choose and why

43. With whom or when do they feel most authentic and true to themselves

44. Do they believe they are more in control or being controlled (by others, their circumstances or their life in general) and are they correct in their assumption

45. What is their fatal flaw

46. To what extent does shame or guilt influence their psyche

47. If they were an object, Which material(s) would they be made of

48. What gets them out of the bed each morning and how obvious is that motivation to those around them

49. Do they believe there's a cause, person, or a goal worth sacrificing their life for

50. If faced with a magical mirror revealing their deepest fear and greatest desire instead of their reflection, what would they see and would they be surprised by it

51. What does responsibility mean to them and do they embrace it or take it on reluctantly

52. Does their race significantly shape their personality or is it more of a background aspect

53. How entitled do they feel to others' emotions, time or labor

54. Are they more likely to do a good deed if they know it will be noticed or do they not care about acknowledgment

55. Do they live in the past, the present or the future

56. How do they go about making decisions: do they consult a particular individual, rely on a trusted group, consider input from anyone willing to share or solely trust their own judgment

57. How likely are they to intervene if they witness something illegal or immoral, If they choose to get involved what method do they typically use, Does their eagerness to correct the situation and their approach vary depending on the perpetrator's status, closeness or strength

58. When it comes to hope do they view it as: impractical or necessary and why is that

59. Do they tend to overwork themselves

60. What type of smart are they

61. If they could make people do whatever they wanted without any consequences, would they use that power and if so how

62. Which of the following do they have the hardest time accepting: affection, money or help

[fanfics-i-find-here]

Do I Know You? Part 18

Synopsis: Red Hood makes an appearance again. Jason’s sorry about it.

Note: Red Hood is back for a minute, baby. Also, just putting this out there, this is like if one of the sex-pollen fics backfired. Is there a kiss? Maybe. Is it the one you guys wanted? I guess you’ll just have to read and find out, lol. Enjoy!

Masterlist

A month later, as the days grew warmer, you finally felt like yourself. Mostly. You had nightmares on the nights Jason didn’t stay with you, which was more often than not. Apparently, while he did make his own schedule, most jobs were done at night. You thought it was weird but didn’t think any harder about it (you did think harder about it, but it made you open The JarTM and remember similarities you weren’t happy about, so you closed it all up again and ignored it).

You had decided that you liked liked Jason. He took you to the Gotham Zoo on one of the warmer days and told you all about his little brother, who loved animals. He actually told you about his family unprompted. So, you just quietly walked with him and listened. Seeing him open up to you about something that he was usually so closed off about, well, you felt delighted about it.

You wanted to tell Jason how much he meant to you, but you still had a worm in your ear telling you he was just being nice. You argued with yourself about it a lot. It had been two months since the warehouse incident (and your subsequent fight with Red Hood). If Jason was playing nice because of that, then he would have stopped by now. Unless he’s just playing with you, the worm would add. You had come to the consensus that you wouldn’t do anything unless Jason said otherwise.  

You became somewhat of an insomniac when Jason didn’t stay at your apartment, leading you to scroll on your phone in the middle of the night. It probably didn’t help, but you would at least get out of bed and do it in the kitchen, so your brain didn’t get confused about where phone time should be done. As you liked a group of posts from Steph (she had gone skiing with Tim and some other friends. Seriously, how rich were these people?) when you thought you heard something, a racketing outside.

You stop to listen but don’t hear anything else, so you go back to scrolling when you hear it again. You brush it off as some of the cats getting into a fight, but then you hear a squeak. You tense up, hand curling around your emergency alert locket on instinct. You turn and watch as Red Hood practically falls through your window. Red Hood, who you hadn’t seen since you blew up at him. Your chest squeezes.

“Red?” you ask, rounding the island but pausing at the edge of it, a mountain of emotional turmoil interjecting itself into your veins. His head snaps up to look at you, and you instantly feel like something is wrong, aside from the fact that you have no idea why he’s here. His helmet is missing, nowhere in sight. His chest heaves like he can't quite catch his breath. Even though you can't see his eyes, you can feel him staring a hole through your skin.

He doesn’t answer you. So, you take a few more cautious steps closer. His fists clench at his side as he leans against the wall next to the window. Closer, you can see his face is flushed, and you wonder if he’s sick, and if he’s sick, why would he come here? You don’t have time to ponder the question because he takes a step forward, and the rest of him follows quickly. Startled by his speed, you trip backward on your own feet and squeak as you fall, body tensing, waiting for the pain. It never comes because he’s on you as you fall, hand curling on the back of your scalp to stop you from hitting your head as you land on the ground with a shocked huff.

You stare at him hovering above you, but you don’t have time to whisper out a thank you or say anything because his lips are pressed against you, hard. Your eyes widen and remain unmoved in shock. He moves only slightly as he kisses you, head tipping this way and that. You break out of your stupor when he shifts to nip at your lip, and your hands press at his shoulders to push him off of you, unsuccessfully. Instead of pulling back, he just moves to your neck to press closed-mouth kisses there, more nuzzling your neck than anything else. You’d think it ticklish if you weren’t so confused.

“Red Hood, what are you doing?” you ask the question calmer than you expected. You should be more worried about the current events, but you genuinely think something is wrong. You don’t believe he would ever try to do something to you otherwise, despite the two months it’s been since you’ve seen him. He just hums against your skin as his free hand curls at your hip and grips hard enough to hurt.

“Red Hood, you need to stop. Something's wrong.” You can feel the warmth of his forehead against the side of your jaw. He’s burning up, feverish and sweaty. He pays you no mind, just continues his strange kisses to your skin, moving lower to the junction of your neck and shoulder. He clearly wasn’t himself. You understand now that he won't listen to you, that you'll have to stop him yourself.

Your mind goes back to two weeks ago. Jason, on a spiel about you walking home alone, said you needed to learn self-defense. He had taught you a few moves, but if there was one thing he drilled into your head, it was to always go for the balls. The idea had made you laugh at the time, in spite of how serious he looked about it, but now it made sense.

Even though Red had his face practically smashed to your neck, the rest of him hovered over you, his thick thighs straddling you. You could move your legs easily. You weren’t sure if this would do anything, especially if Red wore protection down under, but it was worth a shot. You flatten your knee, then bring it up quick and hard against his backside. He groans against your skin, but it must have been enough to knock him out of his reverie because he rolls off of you and huddles in on himself.

You scramble backwards quickly, standing, and curl your hand around the lamp on the table next to the couch. You point it at him threateningly.

“Stay,” you tell him while you try to fumble with the locket he had given you. It’s supposed to alert all the bats, so maybe somebody can pick him up and help him. He shifts, and your grip on the lamp tightens, but he doesn’t move more than to just stare at you. He’s still flushed, and his hands dig into his legs.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart, I’m so sorry…” he starts, and then he’s on a roll, muttering about how he never wanted anything bad to happen to you and that he should be better. You think he gets distracted because then he talks about how pretty you look and how good you smell. You don’t notice how much he’s moved towards you until your bum is pressed to the back of the couch and his hand is curling around your calf. Both of your hands tighten on the lamp, but you don’t have the heart to use it. He just looks so distraught.

His hands climb as he talks, up the side of your thighs and hips until he wraps his arms around your waist and buries his face in your stomach. He’s back to mumbling apologies again, but you are far too distracted (more than you’d like to admit) with the man on his knees hugging you. You're stuck staring at him, unsure of what to do, until a voice you’ve never heard before breaks you out of it.

“Am I interrupting something?” the voice is deep but gleeful. Your eyes snap to a fit man in a black and blue get-up. Red Hood’s hold tightens on your waist at the sound of him.

“Something's wrong with him.” You say it quickly, like you're trying to explain the scene he’s witnessing. You're sure it's an odd sight. The big bad Red Hood hugging your waist like his life depends on it and you, holding your lamp in a vice grip above him. The man's lip quirks briefly into a frown.

“This is so not how I wanted to meet you.” He says as he takes a step forward. Red Hood all but growls, his arms tightening enough to make you wince slightly, distracting you from asking what he meant. The man stops moving.

“Take it easy, Little Wing. You know I’m here to help.” He offers you an apologetic smile. “He had a run-in with Ivy. She’s been on a more aphrodisiac spin recently.” It takes you a minute to understand what he’s saying (mostly because you're trying to figure out who Ivy is).

“Why would he come here?” The man’s smile changes into a teasing smirk that you don’t love.

“I’m sure it's nothing to think too hard about.” You feel seriously out of the loop, and you don’t think you want to know. With someone else present, you put the lamp on the couch. Your hands settle on Red’s biceps, trying to gently pry him off of you.

“Come on. It's time for you to go with…” you pause glancing at the other man.

“Nightwing,” he offers, albeit with a scrunched brow, like you should have known that. You squint at the weird name before looking back down at Red.

“It’s time to go with Nightwing. Get you the help you need.” His arms tighten again, and it makes you squirm slightly. “You're hurting me, Red.” His arms loosen, and his face pulls away from your stomach just to prop his chin there so he can pout at you. You can’t believe you’re thankful for his stupid mask. If you could see his eyes, you’re sure it would be game over.

“I can’t help you,” you explain to him, unthinkingly running your fingers through the top of his hair. He shudders and sighs. You decide you're not helping your case, so you pull your hand away.

“Nightwing and whoever else can help you to feel better, right?” You glance over at Nightwing, who is awkwardly looking to the side.  After a moment of silence, he finally looks back at you, realizing you were talking to him.

“Oh, yea. Red Robin and Oracle already have an antidote ready. Just need to get him back to the cave,” he says. You decide you really need to look into the vigilantes of Gotham because you have no idea who these people are. You turn your attention back to Red Hood.

“See. They can help, I can’t,” He grumbles and buries his face back into your stomach. You sigh, already feeling like you're arguing with a toddler, but then he lets go, slow and lethargic. He stands and nearly collapses. Nightwing is quick to catch him, and you feel incredibly useless.

“Sorry about this,” Nightwing tells you, giving a blinding apologetic smile before he’s cramming Red Hood out your window with less finesse than you anticipated, although you think Red Hood fought him the entire time.

****

It’s only after you have locked your window and sat on your couch that it comes to your attention that you were not as freaked out about what just happened as you should be. Red Hood had forced himself on you (respectfully, somehow) but he hadn’t groped you, hadn’t humped against you like a mad dog. The worst he did was kiss you, held your hip a little too firm, and hugged you.

You bring a hand to your lips, tracing them. You hadn’t been kissed in years. If you had been prepared, you think it might’ve been nice. You snap yourself out of your thoughts. You liked Jason. You and him… weren’t dating, per se. You think about kissing him far more than you should. You think about The JarTM in your mind and blame it for why you’re thinking about how nice it was when Red kissed you. This is stupid, you decide, you missed Red Hood but not for kissing reasons.

Seeing him and then him being gone again, your emotions come back. You sag on your couch, preparing to nitpick your mind. You were mad at him again, not that it ever stopped. It had been covered up by the sadness of missing him. First, He got you kidnapped, and you still haven’t forgiven him for that. Second, he never tried to talk to you again (you ignore the fact that you told him to never come back because that clearly did not stop him). And thirdly, he kissed you, unconsented, and, if you hadn’t pressed that button, probably would have done something else (yes, he was drugged. You understand that, but he could at least have said something, or better yet gone somewhere else. Why did he come to you?).

You settle on just being peeved with him and keeping a mental list of complaints to tell him all about the next time you see him. The next time you're kidnapped, or he’s drugged probably, you think. A pointlessly petty thought but whatever. You did not get any more sleep that night.

****

A day later, Jason showed up at your door without warning. He would usually send you a text that he was coming over, but you got nothing. You wouldn’t have even checked who was knocking at your door if you didn’t recognize the way he knocked. You think he may have been sick because when you open the door, he’s sagged against the frame of it. He looks pale, exhausted, and guilty for some reason, weary eyes watching you.

“Are you okay?” is the first thing that leaves your lips. His own quirks, like he finds the question funny.

“Are you?” he asks in return with hint of earnest in knowing the answer. You shrug.

“I’m not the one who looks like the walking dead.” You mean it as a joke, but his lips press into frown and wonder how that could upset him.

You don’t have an opportunity to ask him because the door across the hall creeps open just an inch or so. You spot the brown eyes of your new neighbor. She was an older Italian woman who spoke just enough English to get by. She was sweet, in that old lady sense. A little nosy though, she reminded you of Darla just a bit in that sense.

“Ciao,” you say, the extent of your Italian knowledge, waving at her as you gently tug Jason into your apartment and close the door. He sags against the kitchen counter.

“You know Italian?” he asks.

“Not at all,” you answer as you nudge into his space as he so often does with you and press your hand to his forehead. His eyes close for a moment before he’s blinking at you.

“What’re you doing?” the question almost sounds accusatory, and you start to pull your hand away but his wraps around your wrist, pressing your palm to his cheek (Jason nearly started kissing up on your hand and wrist, leftover side effects of ivy’s new treat, but he managed to control himself).

He sighs into your palm, and you think it’s a new sound that you’ve heard before just not from Jason. The JarTM rattled louder than it had in months. It stuns you enough that your hand twitches, fingers curling slightly against his face. Damn Red Hood, you think, he just had to show up and mess up the way you think. Jason was not Red Hood; it’s a stupid connection that makes no sense. You mentally shove the stupid jar back into its corner (you may have been dissecting yourself in the past month but that would not be a part of that process) because Jason is staring at you, and you find his eyes are greener than usual, nearly sickly.

He still looked exhausted, still looked pale, but he hadn’t felt warmer than he usually did. He did have that stupid look in his eye (stupid because you can’t figure out what it is) as he stares at you. You suddenly remember that he asked you a question.

“You don’t look good,” you say quietly as your thumb rubs against his cheek where he holds your hand. He sags even more and your worry he might collapse in the kitchen if it weren’t for the little smirk that shows itself.

“You always sound so sweet when you insult me, sweetheart.” The heat of his breath skims across the inside of your wrist. You can feel the movement of his lips at the joint there. It throws you off enough to have you tugging your hand out of his hold.

 It’s not that you felt uncomfortable; you know that you and Jason thrive off of physical touch, but you were usually the one that initiated the more… intimate moments. Jason was prone to just tucking your hair, giving you hugs, and pressing a kiss to your temple. You were the one that would drag him into bed or on the couch to cuddle. He liked to stand close to you, but you were the one that would curl your fingers together, not him. Things that bordered the line of platonic and less so.

This moment in the kitchen with his eyes staring into your soul and his lips nearly pressed to the sensitive skin of your wrist has your heart in your throat because, for some bizarre reason, it felt like the least platonic thing that has ever happened to you (despite him having literally bathed you in your underwear).

“I mean you look sick,” your words come out in choked stutter that has an embarrassed warmth spreading up your neck, “and you should lay down.”

You step out of his space because you need air. His body leans forward, following you, enough that you worry he’s going to fall. You steel yourself and get rid of whatever swirl of butterflies Jason always gives you. He had spent nearly two months taking care of you in his own ways. It was your turn to take care of him.

“Couch or bed?”  you ask and his face makes a weird crinkle before he’s full-on smirking at you.

“If you wanted to seduce, babe, you could’ve just said something,” he says.

You sputter, skin growing warmer by the second, “I’m not- that isn’t- shut up and answer the question.”

“That doesn’t work, sweetheart. Either you want me to shut up or you want me to answer the question. I can’t do both.” He teases and you don’t know what to do with yourself.

****

Okay, so, maybe the family was right. Maybe he should have waited another day before coming to see you. Barbara, Tim, and Bruce told him at separate times that Ivy’s newest pollen would still have lasting effects and that, because he had already gone to you before, if he saw you again those side effects might get stronger before they went away. He felt fine when he left (snuck out of) the manor. He didn’t have a fever anymore, didn’t feel like he was going to claw out of his own skin. He was fine and he wanted to see you (less desperate than the night before but still a little desperate).

Then he saw you and you touched him, and he nearly felt like he was on fire. His hands and mouth moving of their own accord. He could tell how surprised you were by it but watching you sputter was doing something to him. Part of him, the more sensible part, was worried, of course, that he was making you uncomfortable (part of the reason he had wanted to see you was because he wanted to make sure you wouldn’t revert back to hermit mode after what he tried to do the night before as Red Hood). However, you hadn’t stepped very far away from him. If Jason wanted to, he could easily wrap his hand around your arm and pull you back into his space.

He didn’t. Instead, he stared at you. You really were pretty, even in your embarrassed state. You hadn’t gone to work today. He could tell because it was 2 in the afternoon, and you were still in pajamas. It made him want to kiss you again. Last night, he had been out of control, most of his urges taking over before he could stop them. Today it would be different, he could stop himself from acting out. He still wanted to kiss you.

You seem so unsure of yourself that he decides to reign it in. You were offering your bed and hopefully that included you in it. He felt exhausted suddenly. The ride to your apartment he had so alert with the fact that he was going to see you but now with you in front of him, close enough that he could smell your shampoo, his energy was gone.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart,” he pushes every ounce of remorse into those two words, especially after he had forced himself on you last night, “I am sick, and I’d like to lay in bed with you if I haven’t scared you off.” Your flustered features relax, and you smile at him sweetly. It nearly killed him how much he wanted to drag you close to his body.

“You don’t scare me, Jay,” you say oh so sugary. Oh my god, he’s going to die, “If anything you make me feel safe.” You point a finger and poke at his stomach. His hand curls around your wrist again, more light, more delicate. Despite all of Jason urges to kiss you (and do a bunch of other things that he’s tucked away in a deep dark hole), they all pause to appreciate what you’ve just said.

He made you feel safe. It surprised him honestly. Jason had been playing hero since he was 12 years old. He had done nothing but try to save people or make life better for people as Robin (which backfired in his face, literally) and then as Red Hood. But here you were, giving him a shy look after your admittance, saying that Jason made you feel safe. Not Robin. Not Red Hood. Jason.

Jason Todd was a ghost in all sense of the word. Technically, Bruce had made him legally alive again and kept it quiet. There was no media story about the second son of Bruce Wayne no longer being dead and he was okay with that. He never liked the flashy life Bruce lived outside of the Bat and it’s not like they were always on good terms. Even both actually and legally alive Jason Todd was still a ghost. He haunted the streets of Gotham City, haunted the halls of Wayne Manor. He wasn’t a real person.

 He was Red Hood. Didn’t have a life outside of it. Focused on saving people, helping people in Gotham and all across the world. until you. You with your queries about his books at the coffee shop (the only guilty pleasure he had). You with your nervous habits. You with your sweet smiles. You changed everything. He hadn’t gone out and around Gotham as Jason Todd since he came back from the dead. He didn’t realize how much of a tourist he was in his own city until he was taking you out. It didn’t matter though, because he wasn’t haunting these places. He was with you. He was alive.

He tuned out his thoughts to focus back on you. You looked worried doing that odd shift on your feet you do. He lets one urge go through and wraps his arms around your shoulder to pull you into a hug, nosing at your hair. A squeak escapes you, but you settle against him, hands moving up and down his back in a soothing manner.

“I lo-” Jason stops himself choking on his own words. His hands tighten slightly as he tries to regain control of his mouth.

“You mean the world to me, sweetheart.”

“You mean the world to me too, Jay.” Your voice is muffled against his shoulder but it’s the clearest thing he’s ever heard.

Jason keeps you there for much longer than necessary, just holding you, until that exhaustion from early creeps into his knees and he’s not sure he can stand much longer. He finally speaks up.

“I’d like to lay in bed. With you if that’s okay?” You pull back to look at him. Your hand comes up to hold his cheek, thumb caressing the scar there. It used to bother him, and it still does when other people stare, but you’re always so soft and sweet about it.

“Course it is, handsome. Whatever you need.” You say softly and a dumb smug feeling erupts in his chest. You only ever call him Jason, Jay, or, within the last week or so, bubs. He’s got a plethora of pet names for you but for you to reach out for something so pleasant… oh, you’ve ruined him.

****

You try to quickly usher Jason to your room because when you had pulled away, you thought he looked even paler than before. You shuffle into your bed and drag him with you settling against the pillows. You think he would be content with how you usually sleep, your cheek pressed to his shoulder, but he tosses and turns for what feels like thirty minutes. You finally sit up with a huff.

“Jason, what do you need?” he gives you a kicked puppy look, and you instantly feel guilty for how irritated you sounded.

“Sorry. You keep moving. How can I help?” He sits up next to you and gestures vaguely at you.

“Can I?” The gesturing and the question tell you nothing, but you trust Jason, so you nod. He gently pushes you down on your back and manhandles you to the middle of the bed. Then he’s hovering over you, legs tangled. You stare up at him, and you hate how your mind thinks of Red Hood. But Jason isn’t even staring at your lips. He’s concentrated on moving around some more. He pauses and meets your eye.

“Is this okay?” you nod because you can't find your voice, because you don’t actually know what he’s doing, because you're pretty sure you would let Jason do just about anything to you and wouldn’t mind. His arm sides under you, making your back arch. You wonder if Jason is putting you in an inherently sexual position on purpose or if you’re just aroused for some reason.

You get your answer (your just horny) when Jason finally lies done on top of you, you huff quietly, not prepared for it. He tucks his head under your chin, wiggles there a moment before finally settling down. You bring your hands up to settle on his back, one curling into the hair at the nape of his neck and he melts against you. It nearly makes giggle if not for the way he instantly becomes a dead weight on top of you, breathe evening. Thirty minutes of him rolling around and he’s out the moment he’s on top of you. Unbelievable.

You weren’t tired but his warmth and weight makes you drowsy. You try to fight, running your fingers through his hair. You give in eventually. Your sleep schedule was already shot. What’s an afternoon nap going to do?

Additional note: There was so much happening in this chapter, its crazy. also shout out to MagandaJinx on Ao3 for giving me the idea of the little old woman neighbor, she will be showing back up later. Anyways, I feel like I went off the rails with this chapter, so please give me some critics if you would like.

Tag List: @little-miss-naill, @nikilolo787, @joonunivrs, @uzxotic, @qardasngan, @stormz369,  @g4bbi3xx, @iwatobiswimbros, @the-lonely-flute, @elz-xo, @gone-batty-fics, @princessesgarden, @notfckincreative, @love-theangel, @feyres-fireheart, @penguimlover23, @herodedicatedblog, @dearghostling, @automaticplant, @alma-ru3, @13fresh

[gudfornuthin]

The Baker and the Ballerina

Chapter one

Pairing: Frank Castle x fem!reader

Summary: a well loved and respected bakery owned by none other than ex marine Frank Castle. A new neighbour moves in across the street

Series warnings: slow burn, cliché tropes, mentions of PTSD, mentions of abusive relationships, (eventual) smut, violence

Word count: 1k (other chapters will be longer)

A/N: I'm so excited to share this brand-new series with you all! It’s a long one so buckle up. I'll be uploading one a week, so if anyone would like to be tagged in future updates, just let me know. Also, this idea comes from a poem I wrote a few years ago (called the baker and the ballerina) and how l've been watching The Punisher. I wasn't sure if I wanted it to be a Frank fic or a Michael (the bear) fic, but Frank won so here we are lol. Feedback is always appreciated, thank you :)

The small bakery on 31st street, appropriately named Bakehouse 31, is a warm welcome for many tourists and a familiar face to a lot of the locals. The smell of fresh bread and pastries consume the surrounding area, drawing in anyone who dares to pass it. The people love to buy, and the employees love to sell. And all of this is because of the hard work and effort from one man; Frank Castle. From first impressions, no one would believe this was the man behind the quaint and cosy bakery. Whether it was his big muscles and stern expression, or his tough personality most people can't figure out how to crack, it always comes as a shock to learn he's the one who built Bakehouse 31 from the ground up. But Frank is passionate about what he does, and after leaving the Marines a few years back, he needed the unusual change. Even if there were some people who didn't fully support it.

- - -

"Here's your almond croissant and black coffee. Have a good day."

It's Monday morning and Bakehouse 31 is busy as always, packed with commuters on their way to work and the regular retired customers setting up on their chosen table for the next few hours. Frank is front and centre, handing out the baked goods and holding conversations he would rather not be having. His co-worker and friend, David, chooses not to be as productive. He leans on the counter, instead keeping busy by doing a crossword puzzle in the paper.

"What's another word for a mule?" he asks to anyone listening.

"Jackass," Frank replies, adding extra muffins to the display.

David shakes his head. "No that doesn't fit."

"I wasn't talking about the crossword."

David glares at his friend as some of the customers in ear shot chuckle.

He throws the paper down on the side, moving over to the coffee machine and finally helping with some of the orders.

"You ever think of hiring someone else?" David questions.

Frank looks back at him. "What, to replace you? All the time."

"Wow, you're jack of all trades today. Baker, comedian and asshole," David bites back. "I'm serious though. We're stumped most days, wouldn't hurt to have an extra pair of hands around here."

Frank packs a couple bagels and a baguette, handing them to the next customer and telling them to have a good day. He definitely doesn't get tired of saying that.

"We're fine, I can do most of this shit with my eyes closed," Frank responds, grabbing the coffees David made. "And when you actually pay attention, we can breeze through the day no problem."

"Yeah yeah."

The pair continues moving around each other and dealing with orders, the day passing by with no issues. By 2pm, most of the baked goods have been sold, and the only people left in the store is Frank and David, as well as a few regulars who stay until closing time.

The bell above the door rings and an old woman enters.

"Hey Flo," Frank greets her. "Usual?"

"Thanks, extra sugar in the coffee," she replies, Frank nodding already knowing the drill. "So, you boys looking forward to getting new neighbours?"

"What're you talking about?" David asks, his focus back on the crossword puzzle.

"The moving van across the street," Flo sounds surprised, assuming they were aware of what was happening opposite their bakery.

"Someone's bought the abandoned studio."

"Well if they're anything like the last people who owned it," Frank mumbles, thinking back to the drug bust and the obvious smell of marijuana seeping from the building.

David moves from behind the counter and toward the window, trying to get a good look at the people across the street.

Flo waves Frank off. "No no, I just spoke to the person who bought it. Lovely young woman, she's planning on renovating it into a dance studio."

Frank hums, not paying too much attention as he wipes down the counters, hoping to finish earlier than usual. David, however, has lost interest in any work he was doing, continuing to look out the window as the movers unpack the few items from the van. Flo walks over and stands next to him, the pair not being subtle about their nosiness.

David points, smudging the glass with his finger. "Is that her?" Flo nods. "Yeah, that's her. Oh she was absolutely delightful to talk to.”

"And not bad to look at either."

Frank shakes his head at his friend's words. "Oh great, like you need more distractions."

"Nah," David says, turning to briefly look at Frank. "You might though."

Flo giggles and Frank can't help but smile. "Not happening. I have a lot on my plate already," he moves over to David, grabbing him by the back of the shirt and pulling him away from the window. "And so do you. I think it's your turn to wash up, right?"

David grumbles like a child, shuffling back behind the counter and pushing the door leading to the kitchen. "Fine, but l'm taking an extra half hour for break tomorrow."

He disappears into the back, leaving Frank to pack everything away in the front. Flo takes her now lukewarm coffee and cinnamon bun, bidding goodbye to Frank and exiting the bakery. He watches her go, his eyes inadvertently drifting to the moving van. The woman isn't anywhere to be seen, most likely dealing with the definite mess left behind in the abandoned lot. Frank goes back to wiping things down, forgetting about the conversation he just had, and the young woman he most likely won't be bumping into anytime soon.

- - -

Taglist: [TBD]

[bvidzsoo]

SHUT UP MINA IM LIKE JINJA NOT OKAY RN??!!! This is one of the best pieces of fiction I've ever read and I'm not saying that just to say it, you know me.

Where do I even start, omg...All of your descriptions had me shaking. Like wdym there's people out there who are so talented that they can so vividly describe damn colours that make me then vividly envision it in my mind?? Like, bro, I could see absolutely everything as I was reading it, you're jinja nuts my friend. Show me your ways rn!

The owner of the shop, the most beautiful garden fairy you had ever laid eyes on, stood with his legs in a wide stance and hands open, as if holding an invisible box. His eyes were trained on the mess of porcelain shards, a dozen red roses and a pool of water decorated the wooden flooring. The pair of see-through wings with a dash of green in them flickered fiercely, a sign of annoyance that he refused to express on his gorgeous face. Your own wings, thin and blue, fluttered as a smile overtook your features. 

I'm punching the wall at this sequence here, can you see me? Because-because the whole drabble is full of descriptions like this one and I'm about to throw up over how insanely good they are, Mina. Get over here so I can kiss kiss that damn forehead, RAH!

Also, Yeosang and the MC??? Bitch, I want a best friend like Yeosang rn! Their friendship is so precious and even tho we don't get to see too much of it, I can still tell they go way back and just how they'd always been, it's amazing. Him calling her bubbles??? So what the fuck would you say if I punched a hole in the wall??? I already told you over Discord that I teared up over their friendship lmao, and that feeling still stands!

The one thing you had in common — being of the same species — was the magnetic pull that brought you together — the garden fairy who wore his heart on his sleeve and the water fairy who, despite having a smile warm enough to melt blocks of ice, didn’t think twice before standing up for others.

Absolutely bawling, yk??? I am obsessed with the MC you created for this drabble, like she's so lovely and cool...I kinda see myself in her and that's making me so delulu ACK. Anyways, you should give me a 30k oneshot about solely JongSang to satisfy my greed, PLEASE AND THANK YOU. Also, Wooyoung is a menace as always and I would love to see more of him, too, lol. Yk what, Mina?? Just gimme more of EVERYTHING!

And NOW-PARK SEONGHWA HOLY FUCK???!!! WHAT HAVE YOU DONE TO HIM AND TO ME?!! I knew the outfit you'd give him and I was STILL not prepared for it because-HOLY SHIT SEONGHWA PINK HAPPY TRAIL???? BIIIIITCH!!! I'M INSANE DON'T YOU KNOW THAT ALREADY??!!! No because, Mina, this Seonghwa, in this story-HOLY MOLY I folded so many times, you don't understand, I need him very embarrassingly. And their first meeting is also so freaking cute AAAH, the second that little leaf flew off her wrist I just knew what was about to happen and I almost squealed at my workplace (yes, I'm reading it here ehehehe) and also kindaaa kicked my feet HEHEHE.

Seonghwa’s grin broadened. It wasn’t a matter of what, but of who. His tongue ran over his bottom lip as he leaned even closer to you. The three letter word rested on the gap of his teeth, just gauging your wide eyed expression. In a whisper, far more quiet than the calm ripple of waves or comforting sound of bubbles bursting he answered your question. “You.”

Bitch and if I barf?? Then what?! I love how there's a tinge of cockiness and self-assuredness to this Seonghwa and yet he remains so sweet and shy, like MAN-can you let me catch a BREAK???

He hummed as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. More obvious than the grass being green and the sky blue. “Yes, you. My pretty water fairy. The prettiest water fairy.” “Don’t shy away from me, pretty. I’ve been waiting for years to finally meet you and I want to stare at you until I’ve memorized the most discreet feature of your beautiful face.”

UHM-I've jinja just stabbed myself in the eye, AHAHAHA bye. I cannot do this, nu-uh, no woman, I just can't.

Her knowing all that stuff about gardens and whatnot due to being friends with Yeosang for so long- I just know that bitch (said affectionately about Seonghwa) fell in love even harder with the MC when she started saying what each rose represents. YEAH, I JUST KNOW IT OKAY! Their whole interaction, from start to finish, was jinja so good and endearing I was praying it would never be over lol. I can feel their eagerness and desire for each other and call me a freak- but them doing the devil's tango on that bench would've been very understandable because I would've long ago jumped his bones if I were the MC AHAHAHA, oopsies~

I hope this couple never dies and I need them married with many little fairies BECAUSE I NEED TO KNOW WHAT COLOUR THEIR WINGS ARE, DO U UNDERSTAND MINA??? Also, since I brought this up- Imma kiss kiss your brain (because your forehead isn't enough anymore, and we both know how you feel about the toes-) because you gave this story such a unique touch! The fairies having wings and also all the others creatures and how they coexist...man, I wish you would give us so much more of this universe because it's fantastic.

Also, I must say this...I was never too fond of this trope because I find it basic and that it limits my creativity, so I was kinda praying I wouldn't get it LMAO. But then when you got it, I was so curious how you'd pull it off and MY GOD was I not disappointed. Like...it's seriously so good and so well done, I just love it a lot and I'm happy you got to write this trope because it was executed, dare I say, perfectly! The story was also so fluffy and just AAA...look at us making them kiss and be all lovey-dovey just after hours of meeting ahahaha (I'm looking at you Yeosang from my soulmate au).

I think I'll stop here for now, but if I remember anything else I know where to find you, hehehe...also, I think it's safe to say that this story is my favourite one so far from this event.

A Second to Forever | Park Seonghwa

🍄 Summary: The countdown on your wrist was getting closer to its end and the jitters of finally meeting your soulmate were rendering you an anxious mess. It was a moment you had waited for your entire life — the chance to put a face and name to the person you were destined to meet — and it made you think of different ways to escape fate. After a series of comedic events where everything that could go wrong, did, you met your soulmate. In that instant, everything changed. The encounter was filled with sparks of attraction, warmth and genuine connection, leading to a tender first interaction that left you both feeling enchanted.

🍄 Pairing(s): Fairy!Seonghwa x Fairy!Reader, brief Fairy!Yeosang x Werewolf!Jongho

🍄 Genres/Tropes: Soulmate AU, non-idol AU, fantasy AU, fluff, humour

🍄 Warnings/Tags: female reader, no use of (Y/N), use of magic, water manipulation, flower manipulation, Wooyoung is a mood, petnames (bubbles, little one, jjong, love, darling), smooth talker!Hwa, flustered!MC, Seonghwa has some insecurities, brief mention of kidnapping and murder (literally just mentioned once in conversation), kissing and cuteness overload

🍄 Wordcount: 7.1K

🍄 Author's Note: Click the image for a better resolution (Tumblr I hate you). Happy Friday everyone!!! I don't have a lot to say, except for enjoy hehehe. It was quite fun to write this one. I've never really done a fantasy/fairy au before so it was certainly a fun challenge! The fairies are sometimes referred to as little one / little fairy, not because of their physical appearance but because fairies are described as 'tiny' in tales even though they are human sized here!

This is all fiction and not meant to represent the idols involved in any way or form. This work is rated SFW, however it contains mature scenes, not sexual content but moments of intimacy. Minors, please, read at your own risk and refrain from interacting or following my blog!!!

AO3 Masterpost Moodboard Event taglist

The beautiful pink petals of the cherry blossom trees littered the streets of Seoul. The flowers could be found in every corner and in every crevice, covering the ground in a pink blanket, much like the thick layer of snow in the winter season. Peering out of the window of Yeosang’s flower shop, you wonder about the story behind each passerby. A trio of young witches dressed in high school uniforms walked by with their arms looped and joyous laughs tumbling out of their mouths. A tall man triple checked his wristwatch, hair gelled back and one sharp tooth peeking out. The stress was evident on his pale face and your eyes flashed down to the fat blue ring resting atop his middle finger. The bright complexion and fang was a giveaway, yet the piece of jewelry confirmed your thoughts.

The vampire narrowly avoided colliding with another man nearly half of his height that appeared out of nowhere. You glanced down and noticed the lack of feet on the new person. Ghosts weren’t usually seen out in the open during daytime as the sun made them nearly invisible. The bright rays pierced through their translucent forms and turned them invisible to those who weren’t aware of their surroundings. It was good you could walk through them, a bit disrespectful, but at least they weren’t involved in a lot of traffic accidents.

As if on cue, a loud crash erupted behind you, and you were quick to turn around. The owner of the shop, the most beautiful garden fairy you had ever laid eyes on, stood with his legs in a wide stance and hands open, as if holding an invisible box. His eyes were trained on the mess of porcelain shards, a dozen red roses and a pool of water decorated the wooden flooring. The pair of see-through wings with a dash of green in them flickered fiercely, a sign of annoyance that he refused to express on his gorgeous face. Your own wings, thin and blue, fluttered as a smile overtook your features. 

“You alright, Sang?”

“Mhm,” he hummed and crouched down to pick up the aftermath of his ditziness. “It’s the fourth vase this month…”

You grabbed the broom and dustpan from the corner while Yeosang separated the roses from the remains that couldn’t be reused. Before you got to sweeping, you placed your hand right above the puddle and wiggled your fingers. The water slowly separated from the floor and hovered in the air, taking on an oblong shape that bent at your will. You guided the water to the drain with a flick of your wrist and the only proof of there ever being an accident were the broken shards. Yeosang shot you a grateful look and you handed him the floor scoop in return as you gently swept the bits into the dustpan.

“You can’t blame yourself for the first two times, remember? It isn’t your fault the customer’s service dog accidentally knocked stuff down with his tail and it definitely isn’t your fault that some parents bring their kids in and have no control of the devil spawns playing tag in a flower shop!”

“You’re right.”

“Of course I am!” 

Yeosang ignored your cheery outburst and threw the collected pieces in the trash can behind the register. Overwhelmed by being in the center of attention, even if it was only him and you there, he reflected the light on you.

“How much time is there left?”

You slid your forearms across the counter with your palms facing the ceiling. The digital timer that was injected into your wrist seconds after you entered the world was currently showing 01:10:20 with the last numbers frequently changing. Seventy minutes. A little more than an hour left until you’d come face to face with your other half. The thought sent a pleasant spark down your spine and along the thin veins of your wings. Many nights were spent staying awake and wondering who they were and the times you managed to succumb to sleep, you were visited by the image of your soulmate, but the face was always hidden behind a blurry shield.

Just a little while longer and you’d be able to trace the outline of their features. Then there was the curiosity whether they were a fairy like you or another creature. It wasn’t unheard of or impossible to be paired with something other than your own kind. You knew fairies whose soulmates were everything from witches to werewolves, however your soulmate was yet to show themselves. 

“That’s soon,” he replied, a dash of excitement lingering in his voice and a joyous glint twinkling in his eyes. 

“Right… I don’t know whether it’s too soon or not soon enough.” You buried your face in the safety of your palms. “Oh, Yeosang, what am I going to do? It feels like my heart is going to burst out of my chest!”

A fresh and slightly musky aroma with a hint of fruity sweetness surrounded you, blossoming a comforting and warm feeling in your chest. The flower shop was filled with a variety of different scents, but this one stood out, as if the plant was right beneath your nose. A barely-there touch grazed the slightly exposed part of your cheek, right beside your ear, and you slowly raised your head only to be met with the lovely sight of a large jasmine bush protruding between the planks. Jasmines were known for their calming effect and you could practically feel the tension melting off your shoulders, back and jaw. 

“Thank you, Sangie.”

“Anytime, bubbles. Now, I can see the cogs turning in your head. Go ahead and ask away.”

“What… How was it when you met Jongho?”

The garden fairy paused for a second and thought over his answer. For someone who had already met his soulmate, it was hard to put the experience into words. How was Yeosang supposed to explain the unfathomable feeling of the air shifting the moment he locked eyes with his soulmate?

“I don’t know how to explain it, but believe me when I say that all of my worries disappeared when I met Jongho. Nothing in the world mattered anymore. I could literally be on the brink of death and I wouldn’t even care because, well, he was there.” A blush the same hue of his heart-shaped birthmark rose to his cheeks and spread to the tips of his ears. 

Yeosang and Jongho met in their first year of university, if you recalled correctly. That would be a mere five years ago. Yeosang was running late for his exam and was in such distress, he forgot about the countdown on his wrist. His thoughts were everywhere and nowhere. It would be a miracle if the fairy even remembered half of the material he revised in time for the evaluation. Yeosang quickly regretted his choice of taking the elevator instead of sprinting up the five flights of stairs. He didn’t even think of using his wings!

There were just a few more minutes until the doors would close, so when the elevator dinged and the doors just started parting, Yeosang slipped through the crack and collided with a sturdy chest. Everything he was holding — keys, pencil case, water bottle, notepad  — fell to the ground along with an apology slipping out of his lips. The words didn’t get very far as Yeosang looked up and found the warmest pair of eyes staring right back at him. Yes, he missed the exam.

You sighed at the dreamy look on his face. “You’re just saying that because you love Jongho’s eyes.”

“Do not!” His glow intensified and took on the shade of the red roses behind him, a stark contrast to his green and black highlights. Yeosang eventually yielded as you raised your brows and tilted your head sideways. “Okay, I do love him, but it’s not because of his eyes!”

Joy stretched your lips into a genuine smile. You were happy for him. It was about time someone other than you brought the fairy out of his shell and Jongho, from the brief encounters you had with the werewolf, was just the man for the job. Your friendship with Yeosang blossomed in elementary school. The class consisted mostly of vampires, witches and werewolves, and hadn’t it been for you and Yeosang, the homeroom would’ve been vacant of fairies. The one thing you had in common — being of the same species — was the magnetic pull that brought you together — the garden fairy who wore his heart on his sleeve and the water fairy who, despite having a smile warm enough to melt blocks of ice, didn’t think twice before standing up for others. In other words, by drenching the pupils for making fun of the sweetest boy in class.

Though one was a garden fairy and the other a water fairy, your differences went beyond your magical abilities. Yeosang was quiet and you were loud. He liked to observe while you wanted to participate. The apples of his cheeks set ablaze at the merest crumb of attention while you didn’t shy away from the spotlight. Your differences didn’t hinder you from being friends, on the contrary actually. The different traits were perhaps the reason why you stayed friends for so long. 

Having an unpredictable mind that changed course like the unruly waters of the sea, you couldn’t help but let your thoughts run down an unstoppable stream. If the universe paired Yeosang with someone that was an anchor — grounding and strong, giving him the opportunity to lean on his soulmate whenever — what would it give you? Would your soulmate be a vampire, cold and quiet, to balance your loud and bubbly personality? Or what if they were a controlling werewolf, an alpha ordering you around, trying to drown out your outgoing persona? But your soulmate wouldn’t hurt you, right?

The silence on your part alerted Yeosang and he was quick to notice your distant gaze. He slowly waved his hand in front of you, the motion eventually getting more frantic the longer your eyes stayed stuck on the same object, until you broke out of the bubble separating you from the rest of the world.

“Are you okay?”

“Just peachy,” you replied without missing a beat and glanced down at your wrist. 

00:50:35

Your eyes widened. The time was suddenly moving so fast. All those years of you wailing and complaining about there being an eternity until you’d meet your soulmate were taunting you now. 

“What if I lock myself in the guest bathroom of the flower shop?”

“It’s impossible to defy the universe.”

“What will they do? Break the bathroom door?”

Yeosang paused for a moment and gave you a skeptic glance. “Maybe you forget to lock the door.”

"Impossible,” you countered and kept your eyes on the countdown. “I always check twice.”

“Maybe the lock breaks because you pull on the handle when checking.”

It was your turn to take a breath. He had a point and you hated it when he was onto something. “Okay, what if I hide in a river in a bubble of water?”

“Congrats, your soulmate is a merman or mermaid.”

“What if I take a trip to Jongho’s pack?”

The sudden call of your name snapped your eyes up to Yeosang’s. “Do you not want to meet your soulmate? Because you’re really acting like it…”

“It’s not that I don’t wanna meet them. I’m just… scared…”

There was no point in feeling embarrassed of your admission. Everyone you asked who had already met their soulmate told you the same story. How they were nervous, scared and excited about finding out who their other half was. You thought they were stupid at first. Who would be scared of meeting their soulmate? Now you felt stupid for secretly invalidating others’ feelings. 

“There’s no reason to be afraid, bubbles. The person you’re destined to meet isn’t just created on a whim. A piece of your soul is taken to put in theirs and vice versa, whoever it is, you’re created to fit each other.”

“But–”

“No buts. You can’t cheat fate…” A quiet blanket settled over the almost empty flower shop. “Take a stroll and try to think of something else. Here.” 

A vine covered in different sized leaves emerged from the ceiling at a single twitch of his fingers. Yeosang held his hand out and a leaf the length of your forearm fell off the branch right in his palm. He grabbed each end of the blade and beckoned you to hold out your wrist. The leaf was neatly tied around your timer, successfully covering the changing numbers.

“Now you can’t look at the timer and won’t worry about where you are or who you’re around.”

One corner of your mouth curved up in a gracious smile. “Thank you, flower.”

“I gotchu, now fly away and don’t come back unless you wanna show me your love for all eternity.”

With a new found confidence and a leaf on your wrist, you big Yeosang goodbye and left the flower shop per order. You didn’t know where to go. Any location you thought of was either too fancy or not fancy enough to meet your soulmate in. The idea to wait outside your front porch wasn’t too bad. If they turned out to be a complete weirdo you could just run and hide. The downside would be that they would know where you lived. Not wanting to waste anymore time, you decided to just walk in a straight line and let the path guide you to the person destiny chose for you. 

It was a beautiful day. There wasn’t a single cloud in the blue sky, and the sun could freely share its warm rays with the planet. People made the most of the sunny weather and spent the day outdoors. Some took longer walks with their dogs, while others decided to enjoy the clear sky in the outdoor seating areas of coffee shops. As you passed a park, you caught sight of students in high school uniforms with blankets strewn beneath them and books lying open on their laps. The bright weather sent everyone in a good mood and you just hoped the atmosphere wouldn’t change when your timer ran out. Getting sidetracked was easier than you thought. A little further up ahead the road was a fairly new shop which had just opened a few months ago. You did visit it a handful of times to your mother’s requests of buying different ingredients for her and just like then, her gentle voice echoes in your head reminding you to stop by Jung’s Magic Shop on your way home for a bottle of moon petal essence. 

The bell above the door jingled at your entry. A surge of intensity hit your nose the moment you stepped over the threshold that you thought blood would ooze out of your nostrils. One word to describe the store would be chaos. The space was the size of a shoe box and crowded due to the many unopened boxes, random piles of books that couldn’t fit in the bookshelves and random trinkets laying around. At first glance, the shop appeared to be empty, but as you reached the register and tapped the small bell with the sign ‘tap me’ attached to it, a man of short stature emerged from a cloud of smoke.

“Hello little fairy,” he greeted and leaned his elbow on the counter while resting his chin on his palm. “What can I help you with this fine evening?”

Jung Wooyoung, the youngest wizard of his family line, was most known for being the new addition in town and almost setting the whole building on fire on his first night there. He was a handsome wizard. Black hair that fell neatly over his nape and tickled the beginning of his shoulders. His equally dark eyes were obscured by a heart-shaped fringe. It was nearly impossible not to squirm beneath his gaze, but the tension would disappear with a quick flash of his bright smile. The most alluring feature of his face would be the mole right beneath his right eye, and if the viewer was extra observant, they would notice a subtle beauty mark on the center of his bottom lip. 

“Hey Woo, do you perhaps have some of that moon petal essence?”

“Hmmmmm, I think they are all reserved for other customers.” The hopeful light faded from your eyes and he was quick to take back his words, lowering his tone and whispering behind his hand as if the place was bustling with customers. “But… I can just tell Mrs. Yang, I dropped her bottle.”

“Thank you.”

“No worries, little fairy. Take it as a gift for being my favorite customer.” His eyes jumped down to your wrist and a wrinkle appeared between the skin of his furrowed brows. “What’s wrong with your wrist?”

“Oh, this?” You raised your hand and gave him a better view of the leaf. “It’s nothing, I’m supposed to meet my soulmate soon and I couldn’t stop worrying, so Yeosang tied it to keep me from worrying.”

Wooyoung hummed as his hand reached out to play with the knot of the blade. “Yeosang is that little flower fairy, huh?” He dreamily sighed. “He is beautiful.”

“And happily taken by his soulmate,” you stated matter-of-factly.

“Oh, don’t remind me! Can’t a mind fantasize in peace?” Agile as a fox, he changed the course of the conversation, seemingly no longer interested in the ‘little flower fairy’ and his boyfriend. “Well how much time is there left until you meet the lucky one?”

“It showed less than an hour back at Yeosang’s shop.”

“And you walked all the way over here?” You nodded, a bit clueless at the sudden question. “That’s a thirty minute walk, little one and that’s if you walk at a brisk pace.”

“What are you saying?”

“I’m saying that I think you need to get out of here unless you want to find the love of your life in this chaos.”

Your eyes widened and you quickly ushered him to get your moon petal essence. 

“Jeez, woman. I’m going!”

As soon as Wooyoung handed you the essence trapped in a bottle the size of your pinky, you slipped it over your head and let it dangle around your neck, and dashed back out into the busy street. The door nearly hit you on the way out and you could’ve sworn you heard a cackle come from the inside, definitely Wooyoung pulling some strings to mess with you. A harsh gust of wind  swooshed around the many bodies and you threw your hand up to shield your eyes from the flying dust and dirt. What you didn’t expect though was for your leaf to come undone and travel through the air.

“Oh no!” You gasped and quickly ran after it.

As if sensing your chasing figure, the wind picked up and pushed the leaf further away. Like a game of cat and mouse, the blade would land on the ground and then jump a few paces whenever you’d get too close. It was taunting you and that alone made you more determined to capture it again. The thought of Wooyoung casting a spell on it back in his shop didn’t sound too unbelievable. The more time you spent with the wizard, the more of his foxy personality broke through his innocent act. 

“Come back here,” you hissed and chased the lively leaf while successfully avoiding collision with the other pedestrians. A brilliant idea flashed before your eyes and everyone watched in awe as your blue wings fluttered to life, and lifted your figure off the ground.

The leaf brushed off your command and continued its path further and further away from you. There was actually no point in retrieving it, but you realized you felt much better not having to look at your timer than when it was visible for everyone to see. Even now, as you were losing your mind trying to get it back, you didn’t think to glance down at your wrist. Entirely occupied by the stupid part of a random plant Yeosang summoned, you didn’t realize your timer was rapidly coming to an end. Your wings flapped rapidly, propelling you forward. Victory filled your veins as you inched closer and closer to the blade. The harsh wind stilled and the leaf fell limp on the ground just as you touched down with the soles of your feet. You ran the last stretch with your arm extended and fingers spread, ready to capture the green piece. A noise of triumph escaped your mouth as you grabbed the end of the blade.

“I got you!” 

What you didn’t expect was for the leaf to be pinched between a thumb and forefinger, twice the size of yours, at the other end. You traced the path up the stranger’s arm and gazed into the most beautiful pair of brown eyes you could ever imagine — round and wide, akin to a surprised bunny. A bubble you weren’t aware of burst in your ears and all of your thousands thoughts stored in various chests scattered in the vast space of your mind were reduced to nothing. Your breath was trapped in your throat, yet you didn’t feel the need for air as long as you kept staring at the stranger. A soft breeze — nothing like before — brushed against your bodies and a rain of cherry blossoms followed. The petals landed in the stranger’s hair and blended with his baby pink strands. The man was breathtakingly beautiful and your heart squeezed in content of being the center of his attention. 

“Hey,” he said and your insides nearly collapsed from the combination of his slight rasp and soft-spoken tone. His raspberry-colored lips curled upward and dethroned the sun as the warmest source of light in the galaxy. The fairy who couldn’t go a day without speaking was for once at a loss for words. 

“Hi,” you squeaked out and hastily rose to your feet, letting go of the oh-so-important leaf.

The man chuckled and followed your lead. His long legs were trapped in a pair of khaki pants and the pine-colored vest was buttoned up, showcasing his sunkissed arms and collarbones, and even a sliver of his belly button adorned by a trail of bright pink hairs. A brown string was tied around his neck, with just enough space for a pinky to slip between his skin and the material, and the ends disappeared beneath his shirt. That wasn’t the only accessory on his beautiful body — a light watch, in the same hue as the necklace, sat snuggly around his left wrist. A pair of beige boots fit his outfit perfectly and perhaps even made him an inch or two taller.

The attire was very comforting as it reminded you of your relatives and the few fairy friends you had. It wasn’t something people wore around these parts as most residents weren’t of fairy descent and stuck to the more modern-day clothes. Before you could spiral into what-ifs, a motion behind him caught your attention and as you threw a glance over his shoulder, the prettiest pair of wings in fairy history came into view. They were much brighter than his hair and glowed with iridescence, shifting from shades of lavender to bubblegum pink beneath the sunlight. But that wasn’t all. A shimmering gold ran through the venations, starting thick and then thinning out as they neared the edge of his wings. The stranger belonged in a bedtime story based solely on his appearance, a tale deserving to be shared with the world.

“I’m Seonghwa.” 

He tucked the leaf behind his ear and held out his hand, patiently waiting for you to reciprocate. The moment your palm touched his, he ran his thumb over your knuckles and gave it a soft shake. Gentle ripples erupted along the surface of the skin he touched and it brought a sense of serenity you only felt while being in a pool of water. Seonghwa gently and slowly turned your hand sideways, as if waiting for any attempts of resisting, but continued when you didn’t fight him on it. Multiple zeros glared up at him and a smile, broader than the one before, spread across his cheeks. 

“And do tell, is my soulmate’s name as beautiful as her face?”

An embarrassing noise was born as the question struck you like a golden arrow launched from Cupid himself and lodged itself in the center of your heart. To make matters worse, Seonghwa pulled your hand up to his face and planted a chaste, but lingering kiss on your ring finger. If Yeosang knew that a mere kiss and some sugar coated words would leave your brain fried, he would’ve done it a long time ago. Through the haze of pink hearts and desire, you managed to give up your name, but not without stumbling over your tongue a few times first.

“I love being right,” he admitted and you were a second away from fainting in the arms of your soulmate.

“I–I, yo–you– I–I mean, what!?”

Seonghwa chuckled, clearly amused and endeared with your flustered behaviour. “You have a pretty name.”

“Your face is pretty!”

You didn’t mean for the compliment to slip out after not even five minutes of meeting your soulmate, but you were drunk on him and everyone knew a drunk mind spoke a sober truth. Nonetheless, you slapped your hand over your mouth as if it would take the confession back and erase his memory. Little did you know that Seonghwa had already stored it in a folder named ‘prettiest flower’ somewhere in the far back of his head with the intent to reminisce about the sacred first meeting every once in a while. 

“Thank you, darling.”

A few people had gathered around you to witness the life changing moment of two strangers, but neither paid them any thought. Seonghwa scratched the back of his neck with his left hand — the other one still holding yours — and cleared his throat, slightly feeling the pressure of multiple eyes on him. 

“Do you wanna get out of here?” 

“Please.”

There was no step by step manual telling you what to do after meeting your soulmate. You wished though. Something like Soulmate 101 or The Soulmate Startup, it would certainly help you in times like these — you and Seonghwa sitting on a random park bench, a vacant seat between you and the March wind doing all the talking. The scenery was pretty though. An oblong pond stretched from one end of the park to the other as a long trail went around it. Years ago, probably an elderly garden fairy, planted a bunch of various trees along the path that had now grown into beautiful timbers of various sizes. You weren’t that skilled in flora, it was Yeosang’s specialty, but you managed to snag up a thing or two from the decade long friendship. 

There was an array of oak, maple and pine trees that would look nothing short of magical during the harvest season, but it didn’t mean the different hues of green were any less pretty. The growing leaves just needed to emerge from their buds and the park would look lively again. The few cherry blossom trees were at least in full bloom and distracted the visitors from the otherwise naked park, and a couple of evergreen shrubs were blooming nicely. The few ducks and swans were a cute bonus too. You thought back to Yeosang and Jongho’s story. How the younger immediately introduced Yeosang to his family, to his pack, and they welcomed him with open arms or how the garden fairy wasted no time taking Jongho to his family owned — now, entirely written over on Yeosang’s name as both Mr. and Mrs. Kang retired — business.  

“So… what kind of fairy are you?” Seonghwa’s voice snapped you back to the present. 

Most people usually guessed what abilities you had based on the color of your wings. Blue could only represent so much and the element that was always tied to it was water. Either Seonghwa was really clueless or wanted to spark up a conversation… You had a feeling it was the latter.

“I’m a water fairy,” you replied and crossed your legs over each other, subconsciously leaning closer into Seonghwa who sat with his arm draped over the back of the bench. The heat emitting from his limb grazing your shoulders and neck. “But that’s obvious because of my wings… Your wings are beautiful though and like, I’ve never seen wings in that color before and I’m trying to understand what fairy you are, but it’s so hard!”

By that point, you were already rambling. The words trickled out of your mouth like a waterfall with no end in sight, but Seonghwa didn’t mind. On the contrary, he bashfully smiled, as if you had told him the stars belonged in his eyes — which wasn’t far from the truth. People, more often than not, praised him for his wings, calling them beautiful, breathtaking, magnificent — every flattering word you could think of. Seonghwa thought he had grown immune to the compliments. However, hearing it from you sent a heat to his cheeks challenging the pink peonies in Yeosang’s shop.

“Thank you…” He meekly replied and lowered his voice down to a whisper. “People try to guess, but no one’s gotten it right yet… I’m a garden fairy.”

You felt stupid for not thinking of that, but in your defence, most garden fairies you knew (just Yeosang’s family) had green wings and green or brown hair — the two main colors symbolizing earth and flora. Of course you wouldn’t assume Seonghwa was one too as he radiated the colors of strawberry ice cream and lavender skies. 

“Are you like… royalty?”

Seonghwa couldn’t stop the laughter bubbling out of him and threw a hand over his mouth to keep his volume down so as to not disturb the other visitors. In all his years of living, he had never been mistaken for royalty. His cute pink blush intensified and was identical to the vibrant camellias on his left. 

“N–No!” He said between the laughter and waved his other hand. “It’s not common, but fairies with parents who have different abilities can be born with… abnormal wings. My mom is a garden fairy and my dad a fire fairy.”

“Wow, that’s cool. I didn’t know that at all.”

“Not many do. I mean, I have yet to meet another fairy with a not-so-normal pair of wings.”

You chuckled. “If that’s why you came here, then you’ll be disappointed.”

“How come?”

“There’s only one other fairy family here and they are gardeners too, but not the flashy-kind like you.”

This time he didn’t cosplay a tomato or shy away from your kind advances. Seonghwa leaned in and the distance between you was reduced by half. You gulped at the sudden close proximity and your eyes darted down to his lips curving up in a smirk. 

“I’m not disappointed.”

Snapping out of your trance, you found his eyes again. The round rabbit-like shape taking on that of a siren. “Huh?”

“You said if that’s why I came here then I’m going to be disappointed and well, I’m not. Wanna know why?” 

You didn’t trust your usually loud and bubbly voice to be stable anymore, not when his scent of burned sugar and sunflower fields infiltrated all of your senses. Playing your cards safe, you nodded slowly.

“Because I found something better.”

The question of what lingered in your eyes and while Seonghwa could see the curiosity shimmering in them, he wanted to hear you ask. Perhaps the soulmate connection was stronger than both of you thought because a warm feeling spread through your abdomen, like an instinct telling you when danger was near or when you could feel someone staring at you from afar, and you decided to take a step from your unusually shy exterior. 

“What?”

Seonghwa’s grin broadened. It wasn’t a matter of what, but of who. His tongue ran over his bottom lip as he leaned even closer to you. The three letter word rested on the gap of his teeth, just gauging your wide eyed expression. In a whisper, far more quiet than the calm ripple of waves or comforting sound of bubbles bursting he answered your question.

“You.”

“M– Me?”

He hummed as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. More obvious than the grass being green and the sky blue. “Yes, you. My pretty water fairy. The prettiest water fairy.”

A rush of heat attacked your face and the urge to look away was almost bigger than the urge to run your fingers through his wavy hair. The looming fear of taking a step too far made you hold back and keep your hands glued to your sides. Seonghwa wasn’t having it though. With trembling hands, he gently hooked his pointer finger beneath your chin and rested his thumb in the center of your chin, the tip grazing your bottom lip,  and directed you back to face him. Fierce bubbles reached the surface of the pond and the ducks quacked in panic at the sudden change in their peaceful environment. 

“Don’t shy away from me, pretty. I’ve been waiting for years to finally meet you and I want to stare at you until I’ve memorized the most discreet feature of your beautiful face.”

“Seonghwa,” you whispered. Your heart was loud in your ears and the hot blood wouldn’t stop rushing to your head. If you were to check your temperature, the thermometer would break from the heat and you’d be rushed to the nearest hospital. Little would they know you weren’t suffering a severe fever, but of love sickness instead.

“May I…” he hesitated as well. The two-hour-long interaction, mostly spent sitting in front of the pond, made you feel as though you had known each other for two decades. 

Sensing his caution, you wrapped your fingers around the wrist attached to your face. You gave him a soft squeeze of encouragement and whispered, “It’s okay.”

Seonghwa cleared his throat. “May I kiss you?”

“Please.”

A pair of soft and plush lips pressed against yours and a tidal wave whirled in your stomach, flipping all of your senses into overdrive. The hand that was originally cupping your chin maneuvered to cradle your cheek as his other hand fell on the cramped space between your and his thighs. Your own fingers reached the sides of his vest to not stray with the pink haze clouding your rational thoughts. It was nice to be taken care of and follow someone else’s lead every once in a while, and Seonghwa proved he could do just that. Eager and wanting more, you pushed against him and Seonghwa took it as a sign to gently swap his tongue against your bottom lip, practically begging to be let in and who were you to deny him entry?  A rich, romantic and soothing fragrance surrounded you as the kiss deepened and your fingers slid up his sides, and gently wrapped around his neck. The need to run them through his hair grew alongside the desire bubbling in your abdomen, but you refused to mess up his neat waves. 

As you parted to relieve your burning lungs, the sight surrounding the bench stole the breath right out of your throat. Multiple thorny stems protruded from the ground and created a curving wall around your bench, leaving a slim opening facing the pond. White, red, yellow and pink petals bloomed through the thousand green leaves shielding you from the outside world. It was magical, something you’d only see in movies or flower gardens where the caretakers would trim and bend the bushes until they fit their vision. You gingerly extended your hand and traced the outline of a pink rose. They were fully grown and unraveled, the kind people would kill to get their hands on for their partners on Valentine’s Day. 

“Why…?”

You were so immersed in the flowers to notice Seonghwa shrinking into himself. Shoulders hunched up to his chin, fingers fiddling in his lap and bottom lip caught between his teeth. The powers of a fairy were both a blessing and a curse for different reasons. Garden fairies could manipulate greenery to create art deserving of a place in the Louvre. Until they were fully in control of those powers, their emotions dictated their actions, often leading to chaos like a cocoon of roses mirroring Seonghwa’s warm heart.

“Did you do this?”

Seonghwa was snapped out of his embarrassed trance and sheepishly smiled. His hand came up to rub the back of his neck despite not feeling an itch and then wiped it obnoxiously off his thigh. There was no point in hiding the truth. A bush didn’t just sprout overnight let alone in a matter of seconds, at least not without the help of a fairy. Seonghwa was still reluctant to admit the truth. What person would want to hear about their soulmate becoming overwhelmed by emotions to the point where they lose the reins of their powers? There was nothing attractive or admirable about that. Not at Seonghwa’s grown age! 

As much as he wanted to play it off and play stupid. Answering with a simple shrug of his shoulders and feigning a look of surprise. Seonghwa was a worse liar than someone who couldn’t control their powers, the truth spilling out from him despite his best efforts. “...Maybe?”

The garden fairy had yet to gauge your reaction. He wished to spare the flustered image of you in his mind for just a little while longer before ruining it forever with the expected disappointment souring your features. 

“Red for love and passion…” Your voice rang out like a wind chime and Seonghwa  slowly looked up at you who had your eyes set on the beautiful flowers. “Yellow for warmth and friendship. Pink for joy and appreciation, and white for new beginnings.”

“You know the meaning behind them,” Seonghwa whispered in awe. 

A soft smile spread across your face. “It would be embarrassing if I didn’t considering my best friend is a garden fairy.”

There was a mutual understanding not to prance over the obvious mishap and Seonghwa released a blow of relief as you didn’t laugh at him and the slip of control over his abilities. The silence returned with a comforting undertone, soft and steady, allowing space for peace to settle in. Neither you nor Seonghwa tensed or fidgeted at the lack of conversation and simply basked in each other’s presence. The fear and sheer anxiety of meeting your soulmate was for nothing as Seonghwa proved to be more tender than a flower. The flame burning inside of you flickered brighter with each gentle word he spoke and you hoped, with every ounce of your being, that he felt the same, that he too was drawn to this connection as deeply as you were. 

“The flowers are for you.” Seonghwa was the first to interrupt the silence. Perhaps the soulmate connection ran deeper than a simple countdown leading up to the moment you met.

“Huh?”

“The roses. They are for you. It’s what I felt– What I feel when I’m with you.”

“Oh!”

He let out a sound something between a huff and chuckle at your sudden rigid position while you begged for your face to cool off.

“Would it be wrong of me to assume you feel the same?”

“Not at all.” You bit the inside of your lip and tapped your fingers along your thigh. “Would it be wrong of me to say I really like you?”

Seonghwa held your gaze. The warmth of his smile seeping into your bones and spreading throughout your already heated body. He gently dropped his hand on the wooden surface with the palm facing the clear sky. Cautious yet daring, your finger extended from your remaining fingers as if testing the waters. It grazed the soft skin of his palm and it was the brief contact you needed to slide your hand in his, fingers intertwining and giving each other comforting squeezes.

“Not at all,” he breathed out, his thumb running along the side of yours.

Bonus: 

“No, Jongho, you don’t understand. I told her I didn’t want to her if she wouldn’t come back with her soulmate. It’s been hours since then! What if she’s kidnapped? Or murdered? Or sold overseas?!”

In the time you were enjoying the company of your newfound soulmate. Showing Seonghwa the town where bits and pieces of your childhood were sprinkled in the streets, coffee shops, book shops, restaurants, playgrounds and elementary- to high school. Yeosang was slowly losing his mind in the safety of his flower shop, prancing back and forth as his mind theorized a hundred different ways harm could come your way. Jongho helplessly watched his soulmate get his daily steps in. The werewolf, despite being younger than the fairy, was quite calm about the whole ordeal. It was more likely that your phone had died than for your soulmate to kidnap and take you to another country in a span of three hours. 

“Yeosang, love, I need you to calm down–”

“Don’t tell me to calm down, Jongho!”

The werewolf threw his hands up in surrender. It wasn’t everyday the calm and collected garden fairy who followed strangers home to see their puppies and kittens lashed out on others, especially not his own soulmate. 

“Whoa, can we go back to using our inner voices, please?”

That seemed to snap Yeosang out of his frustrated stupor. He sighed and ran a hand through his multicolored hair. “Sorry, Jjong. I’m just worried for her.”

“I get that, but working yourself up over nothing won’t help. I mean, you haven’t even tried calling her…”

“That’s because I don’t want to interrupt if everything’s going alright! That would just be embarrassing for us both!”

As Jongho parted his lips to reassure his boyfriend that there was nothing embarrassing about checking on his best friend to see if she was alive, the door of the flower shop opened. The person Yeosang had been prematurely growing gray hairs over waltzed in with a bright smile on her face and a handsome man in tow. Yeosang’s jaw went slack and Jongho leaned back in shock, certainly not expecting you to heed Yeosang’s threat and bring your soulmate to his very shop. 

You cleared your throat, “Yeosang, Jongho. This is Seonghwa, my soulmate. Seonghwa, this is my best friend Yeosang and his soulmate Jongho.”

© HONGJOONGSPOETRY 2025. All rights reserved. Copying, editing, reposting or translating my work is not allowed.

[firewasabeast]

Just reading Aisha's interview makes it very clear that it was her and Taylor Wong's idea to address the Bvddie bullshit and shut it down. Like she mentioned, they went to "their showrunner" and told him just that. I think it's pretty clear they didn't want to have any doubts left, but Tim is the only one who plays against them and can't let it go, while Kenny, Jennifer, Aisha, Ryan, and I think Oliver now too, want nothing to do with that. They just want to do their jobs and never want to get asked about it again. I hope Tim will piss off to the spin off after S8.

I think Tim is in the interest of retaining his audience. So, to a point, he kinda has to say some shit to keep them around?? I don’t read his interviews because, imo, they’re about 90% bullshit lol buuuut he answers things under the assumption that no one knows what’s coming next. In his mind, even if he knows that some people figured it out, the majority of the audience has no idea if Tommy will be back again. So he answers questions based on just that: the assumption that where it’s left is where it’s left. Tommy showing up this episode would have been a total surprise if not for “journalists” leaking shit to buddies. Tim probably wants the 2 parter to be an even bigger surprise, especially since it’s apparently a pretty big deal.

tldr; I don’t know anyone who really pays attention to that man anymore lmao also, aisha is my queen!

[shannonsketches]

Can I just yap to you for a tiny bit how much I love that small, beautiful moment of wordless communication between Bulma and Vegeta in Super Broly movie, when they talk to Trunks on the phone? It's SO perfectly parents-coded. And it's right after Vegeta nags her about weak security in her lab, which indicates he 1. hangs out in there a lot with her, and 2. is worried about her safety when he's not there to protect her. And lets just say that red leather couch that's sitting there has seen a lot of use, lol. 10/10

God I fucking love the Super Broly movie. Not just because it is an excellent animated film even outside of being a Dragon Ball fan, but also because as a fan it's just so focused on the characters and their relationships with themselves and each other, even during the fights!!

And also because I'm a lifelong Vegebul, yes, goddammit, all of that. Thank you for the excuse to spam small detail choices I love.

The board artist, animator, and director made the decision to have Bulma look down at Bulla when Whis posed this question to Vegeta. She knows he was about to go on sabbatical to be with his family before Goku brought Frieza back! She knows why he needs to be stronger!

Look at how cute this boy is. Baby boy. Baby. Happy to talk to mom even when it's not good news. He is so loved and so safe in his house.

Vegeta pausing his berating of the guy who brought Frieza back to life to see what Bulma's call is about.

You know this is a conversation they have every single time he leaves the planet because she's so used to having a super-powered apex predator sleeping next to her she keeps assuming everything will be fine until he gets back, and if that ain't a look that says "Boy do not start with me,"-

The "they were wearing armor like papa's" reaction kills me

Goku being the perfect vehicle for exposition because he's super forgetful about details, and has to have things explained to him, and letting the characters be a part of that reality is always my favorite choice:

Bulma: did u not sense these dudes, mr know-it-all? Vegeta: don't look at me, he's the one who brought Freeza back Bulma and Vegeta: why does he look conf-- oh for fucks sake he doesn't even know what's happening

but without any dialogue at all skldjalks Outstanding

and Bulma collecting herself to not misdirect her frustration at her child,,,I love them

Vegeta being right behind Goku but waiting for Bulma go first, and not just exiting on the same side Whis did to get boots on the ground faster... Great choice for the composition and also to tell you about the character's relationship!!

Stopping next to her instead of trying to get out ahead of Goku, but also--

Not being so overly protective that he can't allow old friends to play.

He moves away from her to engage the enemy and doesn't get near her again until Goku has the floor...and then my favorite bit that I got to point out to a friend who watched this and asks how Bulma survived the ice breaking,

Her hubband,,

He love him wife. Even if she's crazy. Especially 'cause she's crazy.

See... Toei's DBS mistake was painting Bulma as a nag when you know good and goddamn well it's Vegeta "Babysitting Grown Men My Whole Career" IV.

I just know he's the one, "Don't stand that close to the edge." "Don't leave all these wires laying the floor one of you is going to trip." "Pick up your clothes I just cleaned in here." "I don't care if it's the goddamn cat the next one to stuff this kitchen towel into the oven handle instead of folding it over like you found it is going to 1v1 me in the gravity room"

Bonus: My absolute favorite cap from the sub

Fascinating, my love, do go on.

[campbell-rose]

Hello, Fellow internet person

So, um... I have some conflicting feelings pertaining to your hate for Stolas, I honestly didn't know he was a terrible person until I read you're anti-stolas posts.

My question is WHAT made him a terrible person, cuz as much as I see him as the victim, I can't help but be morbidly curious as to why he's such a terrible person.

Just so you know, I only heard he was terrible through the grapevine, but I want to hear your thoughts.

Of course! Personally, I think Stolas is specifically a terrible person because of how he's been written to never takes accountability. The narrative bends over backwards to make it so Blitz is the one who needs to make amends and is in the wrong, but does very little for Stolas.

Stolas started a quid-pro-quo 'relationship' with Blitz, asking sexual favors and encounters in exchange for the book, which Blitz needs for his business. He constantly makes sexual, degrading, and unwanted remarks towards Blitz (such as calling him Blitzy in Harvest Moon, which Blitz has made clear he doesn't like), but then later on claims that Blitz was the one always making things about sex. He calls imps little and small and then is confused as to why Blitz feels like he's being degraded and disrespected. He harasses Blitz constantly with sexual advances, which is especially noticeable in the Loo Loo Land, which actually brings up my next point that makes Stolas terrible.

He constantly apologizes and swears to do better and claims he wants change, but falls back into the exact same behavior that was the issue to begin with. For example, he promises he'll make time for Octavia in Loo Loo Land, but in Seeing Stars does the exact same thing. And then he spends the entire episode with Blitz doing the tv show side plot, completely forgetting about her in favor of trying to get his rocks off. Loona has to go find Octavia and convince her to give Stolas a chance.

Personally, the fact that he's written to dodge accountability and is a perpetual victim of his own consequences is what I think makes him so terrible. He's whiny as well, which just grates on my nerves. That isn't to say that Blitz is some sort of saint, but I just feel as if Stolas seems to think he has done nothing wrong, which has definitely has. I hope this was coherent and logical lol!