#it’s shitty but i just had to get this made

[king-nyx]

Audrey drummed her fingers against the chair, "My dad mentioned something and it kept repeating in my head over and over. And, well, my husband has been going to therapy and getting better. And, I...I am avoiding it all and maybe, I am being a horrible shitty wife and I didn't even know it."

The therapist put down the clipboard, "Have you been taking your antidepressants?"

"Yes."

The therapist raised a brow, "I went with my cousin to get them second day in Scotland. I forgot them once in London when I was drunk and I haven't been taking them since I got home. Happy?"

"No," the therapist said. "Taking them while drunk would be ill advised, however not taking them since you got here two days ago isn't good."

Audrey sighed, "I know. It's just...they've been sitting in my trunk."

"What did your dad say to you that made you upset?"

"Called me a whiny bitch who's being awful to my husband in more words that're nicer."

"Is that what he actually said?"

Audrey sighed, "No."

"Your mind is still distorting other people's perception of you. Do you feel any different with the antidepressants?"

"Better than without them, but not really that much of a difference"

"I'll up your dosage slightly, see if we can get to a good stage where they work, alright?"

"Sure. If you think it'll help."

"You are awfully distant in these sessions."

Audrey smiled, "Finally understand why my husband feels like he's under a microscope."

"Do you still want to open the library?"

"I committed," Audrey said. "I don't know how to quite now."

The therapist nodded, "Audrey?"

"Yes?"

"Do you think that the reason why your brain distorts others perceptions of you, might be connected to your mother? I remember you said she had a lot of negative impact on you as a child."

"No, I said, she was absent and awful. And,then she was present and awful."

Do you think covid existed in the Season? Do you think that for 2020-2021 Zeus couldn't host two Seasons. He had to wait until 2022 when restrictions finally lifted?

I'm gonna assume that covid didn't exist for my own sanity

[kinardsboy]

I’m gonna say something kinda controversial but whatever lol

I am not a fan of the way Buck reacted to the Abby of it all. For him to call Tommy cruel and say that he just can’t understand how he could lie to her like that while being someone who cheated on his girlfriend and then asked her to move in with him out of guilt instead of just being fucking honest and not trapping her without a place to go when she did find out..

Like both situations are objectively shitty, Buck and Tommy both made mistakes but Tommy’s are much more explainable and understandable. Tommy was a closeted gay man with a shit load of trauma, server under DADT and had a homophobic dad and captain. Yes, it wasnt nice what he did but I can understand and sympathize with his situation and his side of things.

I dont get why Buck is so fucking shocked over the idea of queer people being in straight relationships previously, especially long term ones. Like look at Athena and Micheal, Buck has never said a cruel word about him.

There was no reason for Buck to get that upset over it and also just?? Not talk to Tommy about it?? Like for him to react negatively and hide his feelings about it from Tommy and then at the end of the episode ask him to move in and talk about marriage and kids?? Dude??

I hate this fucking episode so much it destroyed so many characters, made a mockery of Eddies grief and overall felt like tiktoks stitched together.

[n0vazsq]

Tired of being alone | OP81 x Reader

pairing . . . oscar piastri x nurse!gf!reader

summary . . . Watching your boyfriend reveal your relationship on international TV, you realise that you missed him more than you realised

request . . . yes!! based on this request!

word count . . . 712

warnings . . . none!

faceclaim . . . N/A

alexavia yaps . . . i have a free lesson rn so why not be productive and write? it's a bit shitty and kinda rushed but my next lesson is eng and i can NOT be late for it </3 saur sorry pookie!!

taglist . . . @barcapix (lmk if you want to join the taglist!)

. . . You slumped into the couch, limbs heavy from another exhausting shift. The hum of the TV filled the room, flickering softly in the dim light.

Your scrubs were still on, your shoes kicked off by the door. The thought of getting up to change or even eat felt too overwhelming after all those back to back shifts at the hospital. All you wanted was to melt into the couch and let the familiar background noise wash over you.

Oscar’s voice drifted into the room, steady and comforting. His interviews were always a joy to watch, making you smile and laugh, just like a kid watching their favourite cartoon. You hadn’t even registered what the interview was about; something about the upcoming Las Vegas GP, until the interviewer leaned in with a knowing grin.

"So, Oscar, we heard you stayed busy during the break between Brazil and Vegas. Anything special?"

You perked up, the exhaustion momentarily forgotten. Oscar’s laugh came through the speakers, soft and a little awkward. It was a laugh you knew well, the one he gave when he wasn’t sure how much to share. Your heart started beating a little faster.

"Well," he began, rubbing the back of his neck, a habit that always made you melt. "I spent most of it taking care of someone close to me. She works really long shifts and don’t always get enough rest, so I made sure she was… comfortable."

You blinked, sitting up straighter. Did he just-? Your heart skipped a beat, eyes widening.

The interviewer’s eyes widened at his sentence, just like how you did, as if he was mimicking your actions. "Interesting," he teased, leaning in slightly. "Care to share more details? Who’s this mysterious lady?"

Oscar’s smile was small, but it reached his eyes, soft and sincere. "Let’s just say she's in healthcare. A nurse, actually. She's been pretty amazing, and I wanted to make sure she had a break too."

Your breath caught in your throat. There it was. A soft launch, wrapped in his quiet, subtle way. Oscar wasn’t the type of person who did grand gestures or flashy declarations, but this? This felt perfect. It was a little secret, meant just for you, even with the world watching.

The interviewer pressed on, curiosity piqued. "A nurse, huh? Sounds like you’ve got someone special in your world."

Oscar’s eyes flickered with that shy warmth you adored. "Yeah," he admitted, voice softer. "I do."

You couldn’t help but laugh softly, pressing a hand to your mouth. The exhaustion of the day melted away, replaced by a warm, fluttering feeling in your chest. He always had a way of making you feel seen, even when you were miles apart.

Your phone buzzed beside you. Picking it up, you saw that it was a text from Oscar.

Hope you’re watching. Rest up, yeah? ❤

You bit your lip, a grin spreading across your face. He always knew exactly what you needed.

Busted, Mr. Soft Launch. I owe you a dinner.

Your phone buzzed again almost immediately.

Only if you let me cook.

You leaned back into the couch, the smile refusing to leave your face. The weight of the day didn’t feel so heavy anymore. Knowing that he’d spent his break looking after you, making sure you were okay, it made all the long shifts and sleepless nights worth it.

On the screen, the interview moved on to other questions, but you weren’t really listening anymore. You were too lost in the quiet joy of knowing you were loved; subtly, quietly, and now, a little bit known by the world too.

You texted back, fingers hovering over the keys for a moment.

I’m tired of being alone all day. Come home faster.

His reply came quickly, almost as if he’d been waiting for it.

See you soon. It’s worth it for you. Every time.

Your heart swelled, and you sank deeper into the couch's soft cushions, the warmth of his words wrapping around you like a blanket. Even with the miles between you, he had a way of making you feel like you were home.

In that adorable way that made you feel loved and cherished, just like when you were a kid.

God, you loved him more than anything.

[demonic0angel]

Anger Management prompt where there is a car accident, except it's in space, between Team Phantom and The Outlaws.

(Lmaoooo this is so freaking funny bc my sister got into a car accident just a week ago. She’s fine tho, dw)

Part 2

“Fuck you!” The teenager immediately screamed. “Where the hell did you learn to drive?! Go back to school, fucking dumbass! You can’t even drive, you piece of sh—”

He was then pulled back by one of his friends, who grabbed him and dragged him back to their normal looking, definitely not broken spacecraft. A girl, dressed in a very distinctive style of goth, then made an awkward face, popped her gum, and said, “Sorry about him. He has really bad road rage.”

Jason’s eye twitched. “I can see that. So what’re we going to do now? You crashed into our spacecraft!”

“Well, you don’t have spaceship insurance, do you?” The girl drawled.

Jason was suddenly reminded of why he hated Tim Drake and Damian Wayne. They were goddamn insufferable, obnoxious, annoying, irresponsible teenagers.

Jason suddenly felt like he aged 20 years in an instant and wondered if this was what Dick felt like, being so old.

Roy patted him on the arm. “Want me to take care of this?”

Jason gestured for him to go ahead, already feeling a headache. Roy walked forward and smiled charmingly. “Hey, kiddo! So, it’s not a big deal that we got bumped into— happens all the time! But we just want to know where your parents are! And why you’re out in space! And how we’re going to get back to earth, since our shipped is now wrecked. You know what earth is, right? Earth is—”

“We know what earth is,” the same cursing teenager from earlier said with a snide tone, “We live there too.”

Roy and Jason blinked.

Then Jason spat, “Well, that doesn’t do us shit! We still have a wrecked spacecraft and we’re stuck here on this moon until you fix it! Don’t think you can just fly away! We’re stranded because of you brats!”

Kori then appeared out of the spacecraft and flew down to them all. The kids all immediately stopped, eyes wide in awe. She smiled and said, “Hello, children! Is there anyway you can help us? You did wreck our spacecraft after all.”

Immediately, in the most respectful tone Jason had ever heard, the two-faced brat from earlier then said, “I’m so sorry, miss. We didn’t think that anyone would be exploring this part of space out here, so we weren’t looking! We’re sorry. We don’t have the tools to fix it either.”

Jason’s entire face suddenly wanted to break out into the nastiest glare he could muster. So not only did this kid blatantly show favoritism to Kori (even if she was definitely super cool), he also couldn’t help at all despite the fact that he completely stranded them in space after being careless with a spaceship?

Kori frowned and they all shared a look. Now what? Jason could feel the migraine get more annoying and he almost wanted to pull out his gun just to kill some kids and feel better about his shitty fucking day, when the other teen, who had pulled away the feral brat, spoke up and said, “We can call Jazz!”

“Oh yeah! Jazz! Quick, Sam, call her up!”

Roy narrowed his eyes. “Who’s Jazz?”

“My big sister,” the brat said, “She’ll fix this.”

Great. Another annoying person who would only make his headache worse and possibly piss him off even further. However, just as he finished thinking this and sharing another annoyed look with Roy, a green portal opened up and a goddess stepped down.

She was tall, with a curvaceous figure wrapped in black and blue robes, as well as a fluffy cape around her shoulders. Her hair fell down over her back, colored red like fire and sunsets and tiger lilies, and her face was that of a statue, carefully designed, crafted, and admired by all. She was so beautiful and picturesque that the air around her seemed to glow like a halo.

Just looking at her made Jason’s sorrows disappear.

She blinked her fluttering eyelashes over her turquoise eyes and then asked, “What seems to be the problem?”

Her voice was so angelic that Jason didn’t even feel his headache anymore.

“Nothing now that you’re here,” Jason said dreamily.

“Oh my god,” Roy said, hand over his mouth as he stared at Jason in shock. Even Kori looked shocked and amused.

The boy with black hair shared a disgusted look with his friends. “I thought that would’ve been my line.”

[chronicsyd]

I'm gonna be so serious, y'all are remembering POWDER and Ekko and not JINX and Ekko when screaming about how much you "wanted Timebomb endgame over Caitvi"

shoving JINX in a relationship with her current mental state is not a good writing choice whatsoever, because Ekko literally had to keep rewinding time because she kept trying to kill herself. If Anything, That relationship would be rushed and fanservice because they would have jumped the gun in 2 episodes vs the 2 seasons it took for Caitvi and showing their ups and downs throughout their whole relationship.

The alternate universe works because Powder doesn't become Jinx and the two don't separate, unlike this universe where the two have been at odds for 7 years and almost kill each other back in Ep 7 of S1.

"But Cait never said sorry!" she didn't really have to, because Vi never stopped being in love with the girl that she Knows Cait is at heart, the Cocktail Molotov scene in Act 2 makes that VERY apparent. Cait saying that she was waiting for Vi to recover to address Jinx is the start of it because Act 1 Cait wouldn't have even Considered doing that, because she was so gung-ho about putting a bullet into Jinx that she Demanded Vi move out of the way for her to do so. She holds herself accountable with the mistakes she's made ("We can't erase our mistakes. None of us." that wasn't just a line targeted at Jinx to prove a point, there's deeper meaning behind it), and moving the guards out of the cell proving that she trusts Vi and her judgment on Jinx is that apology, Caitlyn has always been an "acts of service" kinda person over being a "verbal" kinda person; it's all over the place in S1 but Especially here in S2. But even after she takes Vi's shirt off, you could tell by her eyes and body language that she was most likely going to stop herself again to apologize for hitting her because the wound was in the same spot she initially hit, which was part of the lead up for This wound to even happen, but Vi's the one that just pulls her back in instead.

I'm also gonna add on that Vi thinks she made the wrong choice in trusting Jinx and thinking Jinx's changed because Jinx locked her in the cell and ran away again. So why in the Hell would Vi go chasing after her Again to be met with the same result time and time again? Vi isn't responsible for Jinx's mental health and y'all saying that are just weird. And I think it's apparent that Stillwater probably wasn't even in the top 10 things in her head being with Caitlyn, she was just running wild on emotions that she hasn't allowed herself to feel like-- Ever. And even if it Was Vi probably would have said she wasn't comfortable being in a jail cell of all places.

What was I talking about? Oh right, Timebomb.

Like Yes, it's shitty that Ekko doesn't get a happy ending considering he's the most unproblematic in the entire show. But people tend to forget that at the end of the day, Arcane is a TRADGEDY. It's not She-ra, it's not The Owl House, it wasn't going to be wrapped up in a neat little bow where everyone gets to smile and walk into the sunset with their loved ones, especially considering the fact that this season's being used as build ups to other stories, it's relatively clear that this isn't the last we're going to see of a lot of these characters. When they come back into play? well... who's to say?

But also, let's address that a lot of the Caitvi hate is just straight up homophobia at this point because a lot of people can understand Mel's admission to manipulating Jayce as an apology but Cait's actions we're suddenly braindead and need shit completely spelled out. like good lord I'm so tired of this. Y'all would NEVER have survived Catradora let me tell ya...

(My next post is gonna be a long winded rant about Maddie so stay tuned for that...)

[shapelytimber]

Wanted to paint some of my favorite characters, nothing more nothing less

[COMMISSIONS]

Way too much yapping like an embarrassing amount, the individual portraits and the template I used below vvv

I shouldn't be allowed to talk about my favorite characters- especially to people who (presumably) don't know them xjfkdk apart from the very popular ones ofc

ILLYA KURYAKIN (The man from U.N.C.L.E)

gay ass little Russian spy I love him he is so *dramatic* and a huge nerd and a Beatles fan and into fashion design- perfect pocket size blorbo ;w; also seeing a Russian character being given a positive leading role in an American tvshow from the 60s ?? Yes he lives in New York and works for UNCLE America.... But he is still a communist ?? Incredible ! Also I really like the fact he isn't given the cliché personality traits often given to Russian characters i e anger issues drinks a lot violent ect (looking at you shitty(imo) modern remake... What did you do to my little guy ;;). In a close contest with Spock for the "gayest man from tvshow" of the 60s..... And in my heart he is winning djdkd for me the gay subtext of muncle hits so much more because it's not a scifi show- it's closer to home, Napoleon and Illya were *like that* in the present day of the 60s, they were both human, and no alien fuckery made them go to the village more than once or play house in the suburbs or get attached ass up to get pegged on a regular basis... Truly a show that feels written by an old queen and a guy with the biggest fem dom fetish jkvjjkb (don't get me wrong tho I adore star trek tos and spirk too <3)

KUROO HAZAMA and PINOKO (Black Jack)

sometimes I rewatch some of the oavs from the 90s when I'm sad :) I had a huge phase a couple years back when I read nearly all the manga (should really finish it... Or reread the whole thing frankly), watched *all* the shows (bar young black jack, hated that shit) and idk I just love this venal bitch so much- him and his daughter and his conflicted feelings for his tboy ex that he still loves kfkfkf btw I'm dying for a modern take on this like please please please I'd love to see Kei Kisaragi's story rewritten a bit (trans character in the 70s sure was progressive but oh boy-), because him and black jack's relationship makes me so *weak*.... And maybe see him a bit more than in one story- anyway ! When it comes to his daughter Pinoko, it's very hit or miss- when the writers lean on the cute father adoptive daughter relationship it's great, when they lean more on the whole "she has a crush on him" (very much like a child in most case, and he *never* reciprocate thank god) and bring up the fact she is technically 18 a lot (she was an evil tumor trapped in her sister before he created a body for her- black jack shit dw), and she gets jealous of other women.... Well it's terrible and I'm uncomfy :(

EVA KANT (Diabolik)

Look.... You just can't show me danger diabolik 1968 and not expect me to become insane djdkdkdk she is so cool ;; !!! Her and her devious eel of a man (here as a panther, because even tho I haven't read the comic yet, I'm taking an educated guess that all the panther imagery is here to represent him, the lethal twunk always in the all black gimp suit... And if it's not then fuck my entire life ig fjfkkd), the cuntiest het couple you've ever seen, such freaks I love them ! Partners in crime that will blow up the tax offices of the whole country if you try to put a bounty on them <3 they are in the guilty faves category only because I'm this invested in these characters after 1 (one) movie fkfkf watched the first two remakes and was hmmm let's say underwhelmed, could have been worse but going after the 60s one ie peak cinema was hard... I went in fully invested in these heterosexuals and they still fucked up their romance and relationship ;; (don't spoil me the third one btw haven't seen it yet ! I know it's the yaoi one- which doesn't give me much hope for Eva tbh...) I'll soon start reading the comics tho ! Managed to find all twelve volumes of "Il grande Diabolik" in french for pretty cheap so I'm excited for that :D (might scan them and upload them online because omg I tried finding scans in *any* language and only found a dubious website that sold digital copies for 7€ a volume ??? What is this)

UTA (The Void / Тургор / Turgor / Tension)

Apathy girlyyyyy she just like me for real for real nfkfk what absolutely charmed me about her is yes her design, but more importantly her chamber's design (if you've never played the void, a sister's chamber is a space that represent her. You get a sense of who she is by exploring her chamber before finding her and talking to her soul it's great). The lonely island out at sea, her laying down on a suspended steel boat in a grotto, looking passively at the moon by a crack on the ceiling.... And the moon is looking back. Incredible ! I love this game so much

KIM KITSURAGI (Disco Elysium)

Do I really have to explain this one ? When I played the game with quiji I remember I kept saying "when Kim talks, we *listen*" djkdk we did get a good grade in Kim Kitsuragi and got him to dance in the church <3 this fucking centrist cop wormed it's way into my heart and many others because of course he did. The only Kim K in my eyes. Also funny anecdote : before I played Disco Elysium, I had one concept art masterclass where a kinda famous concept artist came to give advice, make us really stressed then give us a shitty grade.... And when I tell you this man looked so much like Kim ??? Same haircut, glasses, face with a scar *exactly* where Kim's portrait has a stark shadow on his cheek and he was dressed in an orange top- truly uncanny. Anyway, Kim is so fucking cool how does he do it

DARK VADOR (La guerre des étoiles)

*sight* not surprising if you know me... and to be clear when I say Vader I don't mean Anakin Skywalker, post barbecue only zouz here. I refuse to yap about this man djdkdk I already do that way to much in ao3 comment sections

And here is the template I used ! Don't know who made it tho sorry...

PS : all these where made in 2-3 hours each :D wanted to challenge myself by painting quickly, and I mostly (looking at the Eva Kant one that gave me trouble) succeeded !

[rd0265667]

Irene X Reader: Stupid Human

shakespeare would be dead on the floor if he saw how good this was~@seullovesme

Tags: Tsundere, Genie Irene(she just reached through the screen and slapped me for calling her a genie)

There were 3 things you knew were absolute in this world, the chapter you did not study will be tested, the mitochondria is the powerhouse of the cell, and that if you made it out of this alive, Jimin was going to kill you. With a sack of potatoes, all the while telling you that she had told you so. “Stop walking home at night yourself.” She’d insist. You nodded in faux agreement, mostly to placate your best friend. Listen, Taxis are expensive, and you’d gotten self defence training, not just that, you kept a pepper spray on you, an item that Jimin seemed to have in spades. See, it’ll be fine.

Except, yeah. No. The so-called universe clearly had other ideas, because here you were, hands tied, a thick, uncomfortable blindfold over your eyes, and the scent of incense hanging around you like a curse. The blindfold ripped off with a tug, and there they were: three figures in dark robes, all with candles, strange charms, and enough assorted witchy knick knacks to look like a shitty halloween costume. Bound by a chalk-drawn circle on the cold stone floor, you realised the truth. You’d been kidnapped. By a cult.

Of course you had.

"I know, I know," you muttered under your breath, almost amused despite it all. Of course they were a cult. That’s just your luck. “Honestly, blame the author. Cliche little shit.”

“Hey, umm, fellas, can we talk this out?” You look around, trying desperately to get one of the cultists to look at you, but to no avail. “Let us begin.” The one most clad in regalia spoke, the other two nodding, as they began to chant softly.

You look at them in light amusement, despite the predicament you found yourself in. This all seemed ridiculous. This stuff didn’t exist. As if the world was on an agenda to prove you wrong today, from a small amulet lying on the table emerged a smoky figure, a cute but seemingly sinister smile on her face as her arms stayed close. Seeing the figure emerge, the three cultists immediately bowed down. “Who awakens me from my slumber.” The deep and husky voice of the figure boomed, her voice as smooth as velvet and twice as dangerous. “Oh exalted one, we bring you this fine sacrifice as an offering for your great power.” The main cultist spoke.

Sacrifice. Yeah, that word did not sound good. Panicking, your mind began to whir, neurons firing, trying as hard to think of something, a way to get out of this. “Wait! May I speak?” You quickly say, forcing the words from your mouth. All three cultists glared at you like they wished they’d gagged you sooner, one of them even moving to push you down. But with a snap of her fingers, the spirit stilled them, her gaze settling on you, curious and amused. “Speak.” “Oh exalted one, I bring you these 3 cultists as an offering for your great power.” You quickly say. There was a beat where you weren’t sure she’d respond at all, and then, she laughed—a low, husky chuckle that filled the room. “I accept.” She said, fingers snapping once again, the 3 cultists disappearing, the ropes around your wrist going free.

The spirit stood with her arms crossed, watching you with a gaze that was sharp but softened at the edges. She tilted her head, considering you, and then gave a faint, almost reluctant sigh, as if this entire situation had been some unnecessary hassle she couldn’t quite bring herself to resent.

“Well,” she said slowly, as if choosing her words carefully, “I guess you did offer those cultists. So, I owe you.” She paused, the hint of a smirk at the corner of her mouth. “Three wishes. Don’t get too excited.” Her tone was cool, but there was a flicker in her eyes—curiosity, maybe, or the barest hint of a smile she hadn’t meant to let slip. Her arms dropped from their crossed position, one hand falling casually to her side, as if relaxing just enough to test the waters.

“So,” she continued, studying you with a mix of amusement and intrigue, “what’s it going to be? ”

You raised an eyebrow. “A little excited, aren’t we?”

A tiny snort escaped her, and she gave you a look somewhere between exasperated and amused. “It’s my duty, I don’t have a choice… but I’ll admit, you’re… a little more interesting than most of the mortals who’ve tried summoning me before.”

You couldn’t help but grin, sensing you were maybe, just maybe, getting through her walls. “Guess that’s something, right?”

She rolled her eyes but didn’t argue. “So,” she said again, her voice a touch less frosty, “let’s hear it. What’s your first wish?”

You raised your hands, giving her a quick shake of your head. “Look, Genie woman-” “I’m not a genie! And call me Irene.’ Irene said almost indignantly

“Alright, Irene, I appreciate the offer, but I don’t actually need any wishes,” you said, surprised at your own words even as they came out. “I mean, sure, it’d be nice to have a few things, but I don’t want to get into any of this business.”

Her eyes widened slightly, as if she couldn’t believe what she was hearing. “Excuse me?” she replied, her voice cool but laced with an edge of irritation. “You dragged me out of slumber, and now you’re… passing on your wishes?”

You shrugged, feeling strangely casual despite her intense stare. “In my defence, I didn’t wake you, the cultists did. And in the end, you got the cultists; I got to walk out of this situation without a scratch. So, no harm, no foul?”

She let out a frustrated sigh, pinching the bridge of her nose. “It’s not that simple.” Her voice softened, but you could still hear the exasperation there. “Without the wishes, I’ll be… bound to you.” Her cheeks flushed a faint pink, which she tried to hide by looking anywhere but at you. “Until your wishes are granted, I can’t sever the connection. It’s… an inconvenient rule.”

You paused, processing that, and she gave you an indignant look.

“Before you get any ridiculous ideas,” she added, her tone defensive, “this isn’t some arrangement I chose. It’s an ancient pact, one I’m obligated to follow.” She shifted uncomfortably, almost as if she were embarrassed to admit it. “So, if you have any decency, you’ll make your three wishes and let me be on my way.”

“Oh, I didn’t realise it was that serious,” you replied, trying not to smile at how put out she seemed. 

“Can’t I wish for your freedom?” 

“For the last time, I’m not a genie!” Irene said, her indignation now in full force

“So if I don’t make these wishes… you’re stuck with me?”

Her jaw clenched, her eyes narrowing. “Unfortunately, yes. And trust me, the last thing I need is to spend my time… babysitting a stupid human.”

There was a faint, grudging warmth to her tone, like she was trying to convince herself she didn’t mind either way. And maybe, just maybe, she wasn’t entirely against the idea. But the flash of vulnerability was gone in an instant, and she folded her arms, looking at you with an expectant glare.

“Well, give me some time to think about it, is that okay?” You ask with a sheepish smile.

“Fine, but you’d better not make me wait.” Irene grunted, rolling her eyes before she snapped her fingers, her form turning to mist, absorbed into a spiral, flying towards the amulet.

You stared at the amulet dumbfoundedly, scratching your head. This was going to be a tough sell in therapy

“Finally here to make your first wish?” Irene grumbled as she appeared in a swirl of smoky tendrils. But when she took in the sight of you—cross-legged in a bright blue monster onesie, surrounded by enough snacks to feed a village, her confident smirk immediately faltered.

Her gaze swept over the scene, and she raised an eyebrow, scoffing. “What is all this? Some weird human ritual? Or are you trying to summon a spirit with all this… junk food?”

You rolled your eyes, catching the way her lips twitched in what might have been amusement. “No, no, nothing like that. Jimin was supposed to come over for a sleepover, but she got called into work at the last minute. And… Well, the food was for her. She eats like a bear.”

Irene huffed, crossing her arms with a look of supreme indifference. “And that concerns me why?”

“Well…” you looked up at her, trying out your best pleading eyes. “I was hoping maybe you’d help me out with it?”

“Help you out?” She arched an eyebrow, her look turning sceptical. “Let me get this straight. You’re going to waste one of your precious wishes… on food?”

You nodded, trying not to laugh. “It’s my wish, right? So technically, I can do whatever I want with it?”

She crossed her arms, lips pursed, clearly torn between annoyance and disbelief. “Fine, whatever,” she muttered, snapping her fingers. “But don’t blame me if you regret it.”

With a flash, her elaborate robes transformed into soft, striped pyjamas in muted blues and browns, her hair pulled back in a neat braid, with a scrunchie around her wrist. She looked down, then let out an irritated huff, tugging at her sleeves as if they were a personal affront.

“Um… what exactly are you doing?” you asked, biting back a laugh.

She scowled, face flushing slightly. “Look, you weren’t specific, okay? So this is what you get. I’m ‘dealing with the food,’ just like you asked.” She added the last part in a mumble, like she was thoroughly unimpressed with herself, her indignation less befitting of a supernatural power and more fit of a teenage girl stuck at home, eliciting a chuckle from you

“Uh-huh. Well… have a seat,” you said, patting the couch beside you. “And, for the record, you look amazing.”

Irene went rigid, her cheeks taking on a noticeable pink hue as she shot you a glare. “D-Don’t say dumb things like that! It’s not like I dressed up to impress you, okay? Besides, I’m a supernatural being, of course I look amazing” she snapped, but despite her protest, she slowly sat down beside you, folding her arms and turning her face away.

You just chuckled, hitting play on the remote.

A few minutes into the movie, you noticed Irene sneaking little glances at the screen. She was practically rolling her eyes at every line, but you could tell she was getting into it, her lips starting to move along to the songs.

“Seriously? Aladdin?” she asked, voice laced with mock disdain. “I’m not a genie, you know.”

“Hey, I just wanted a way to explain you to Jimin. Aladdin was the closest thing I could think of.”

“Ugh, whatever.” Irene groaned, lying down as the movie started. As the movie played, you couldn’t help but chuckle. Irene wasn’t fooling anybody. She was acting like she’d rather be anywhere but here, but she was the one humming the songs, the one bobbing her head. She seemed almost human. “What’re you looking at, stupid human.” She mumbled the last part, blushing, clearly realising that she had been caught. “Nothing, nothing, you just look really cute like that.” “Shut up!” Irene grumbled

When the movie finally ended, she cleared her throat, fixing you with a glare that was more defensive than angry. “Alright, I have to know—why would you waste a wish on something this ridiculous? You have all this power, and you just… use it on snacks?” She sounded incredulous, as if your choice was somehow a personal offence to her.

You shrugged, the humour fading from your voice. “I don’t know… I just think this kind of power doesn’t belong in anyone’s hands. ‘Absolute power corrupts absolutely,’ right? I don’t think anyone ever did the world any good by trying to play god.” “That’s….new. Most of the people who used my powers just used it for their own selfish gain, but you’re different.” Irene pondered “Well, like you said, I’m an interesting mortal.” You quipped with a smile. “Stupid, but an interesting mortal.” Irene grunted. “So how does this go, does the wish just consume itself.” “Well, no, you need to say, my first wish has been granted.” Irene explains. “Alright, umm, my first wish has been granted.” You say, causing Irene to slip back into the amulet

You’d been pacing your room for nearly an hour, turning over your next wish in your mind. You were conflicted on this one. On the one hand, you didn't want to make wishes that were just made to benefit you, but…on the other hand, how much harm could this wish be? And this got Irene one step closer to being unbound from you anyways

In a swirl of smoke, Irene appeared, arms crossed, her gaze flicking over you with that ever-present mixture of annoyance and exasperation. "Another wish already?" she drawled, her voice dripping with boredom. "This had better be important. I’m busy."

You winced a little at her tone but pressed on, determined. “I—uh—I’ve got my high school reunion coming up, and, well... I don’t have a date. I was wondering if you could, you know, help out? Just, like, make sure I don’t show up looking like a total disaster?”

Irene raised an eyebrow, not a hint of sympathy in her expression. "So, let me get this straight. You want me to pretend to be your date? For a whole night? To keep up the charade for your high school buddies?" She scoffed, her voice thick with mockery. "Honestly, humans are so pathetic sometimes."

You shifted, feeling the familiar sting of her words, but held your ground. "I don’t need anything fancy. Just someone who won’t make me look like I’m still living in the basement."

Irene rolled her eyes. “Honestly, humans are so pathetic sometimes,” she muttered, but her gaze softened just a touch. With a deep sigh, she snapped her fingers, and in a swirl of light, her usual flowing robes were replaced by an elegant black dress, sleek and understated yet somehow breathtaking. Her hair was swept up in a loose, casual style, a few strands framing her face, and there was a faint flush on her cheeks as she looked you over with barely-concealed irritation.

“Wait,” you stammered, staring at her in surprise. “You… you’re my date?”

Irene scoffed, brushing an imaginary speck of dust from her shoulder. “What? You thought I’d conjure up some random person and just send you off? That’s not how this works,” she said, crossing her arms defensively. “I’m your wish, so I’m the one going.”

You struggled to keep a smile off your face, but she must have caught the glimmer of excitement in your eyes because she immediately turned away, feigning exasperation. “Don’t get any ideas. This is strictly for show,” she muttered.

The reunion venue buzzed with familiar faces and old classmates, some of whom you hadn’t seen since graduation. The moment you walked in with Irene on your arm, heads turned. Her cool, detached beauty drew immediate attention, and whispers trailed after you as people cast curious glances in your direction.

Irene’s expression remained perfectly unreadable, though you noticed her eyes darting around, subtly assessing the room with a hint of wariness. You leaned toward her, whispering, “See? You’re already the most intimidating person here.”

She huffed, but a small, self-satisfied smile tugged at the corner of her mouth. “Hardly a challenge, considering,” she murmured.

The reunion was in full swing, the laughter and chatter echoing around the grand ballroom as old friends and classmates reunited. Irene stood beside you, her presence commanding attention in a way that almost made you forget your nerves. She was cool and collected, her eyes scanning the room as if nothing could faze her.

“Everything okay?” you asked, still a little self-conscious as people gave you curious looks when they saw Irene on your arm. It was hard to ignore the whispers floating around.

Irene turned to you, her expression unreadable but softening just a fraction. “Why wouldn’t it be?” she asked, her tone casual but with a hint of something else—a little amusement at your discomfort. "People just like to gawk at anything different, don’t worry about it."

You nodded, unsure how to respond. It was obvious that she didn’t care about the stares. She never did. But you weren’t quite as unaffected. Still, the fact that she was here with you helped ease the tension. In her presence, with her arm looped around yours, the room didn’t feel so intimidating.

The evening passed by in a blur, with Irene at your side, casually deflecting people’s attempts to engage with her with a polite but icy tone. Her reactions ranged from curt one-liners to complete disinterest, but something about the way she carried herself made everyone respect the boundaries she set. They knew better than to push.

You caught up with some old friends, and every now and then, Irene would lean in close, offering a dry comment or two. When someone mentioned an awkward moment from high school, she would casually toss out a sarcastic remark that left the group laughing in spite of themselves. It felt almost like she was part of the conversation, even though her presence remained otherworldly.

It was when the slow music started playing, and the floor cleared a little, that Irene surprised you. She didn’t flinch when you tentatively extended your hand, as if she hadn’t even thought about it. “You’re going to make me look bad, aren’t you?” she said with a raised eyebrow, her lips curling just slightly.

You couldn’t tell whether she was teasing or genuinely reluctant. But either way, you didn’t have the courage to let the moment pass. You gently took her hand, feeling the softness of her skin and the coolness of her touch. “Just for the night,” you said quietly.

Irene nodded, the faintest hint of a smile tugging at her lips. “Fine,” she muttered, but you saw the look in her eyes. There was something real there, a quiet warmth that surprised you. Something that said she didn’t mind it as much as she let on.

The music drifted through the room, the melody slow and soft, and you both swayed to it with an ease you didn’t expect. It wasn’t a grand, ballroom dance—just the quiet movements of two people trying to blend in.

Irene’s grip on your hand was firm but relaxed, her other hand lightly resting on your shoulder. The faintest glow of the room’s dim lights made the curves of her face softer than usual, and for the first time, she didn’t look like she was trying to escape.

“You’re not half-bad at this,” she said quietly, her voice almost a whisper as her gaze met yours. The teasing edge was gone, replaced by something else—something almost vulnerable. “You should get used to it. People will start thinking we’re a real couple.”

You tried not to let her words throw you off guard, but a small smile tugged at the corners of your mouth. “Is that so?” you teased, feeling a little emboldened. “Would that bother you?”

For a split second, Irene’s eyes flickered with something you couldn’t place—something deeper, more genuine—before she straightened, letting the mask fall back into place. “Don’t get any ideas,” she said firmly, though there was a softness to her voice that didn’t quite match the sharpness of her words. “This is all for show.”

You wanted to laugh but held it in, not wanting to break the fragile moment between you, though you had to admit, you’d been enjoying yourself, and hearing that it was all for show hurt a little. Instead, you just nodded. "Of course," you murmured, your eyes lingering on hers. She quickly averted her gaze, but there was still a softness there that hadn’t been there before.

For the next few moments, you both continued to sway together, caught in the rhythm of the music. You could feel the tension between you, the space between what she wanted to be and what she was allowing herself to feel.

And then, just as the song was about to end, Irene squeezed your hand—a fleeting touch that almost felt like an accidental intimacy. Her gaze met yours for the briefest moment, a look that spoke volumes, but she quickly pulled away, her cool, aloof demeanour returning in full force.

“Don’t get any ideas,” she muttered again, but the glimmer of a smile was still present, hidden behind her usual sarcasm. 

You watched her for a moment, noting the pink in her cheeks that she was desperately trying to ignore. “Thanks, Irene,” you said, your voice soft but sincere.

She rolled her eyes and took a step back. “Whatever. You’re welcome.” Irene said, unable to contain a blush as she looked away

The rest of the night passed in a similar rhythm. Well, you hoped it would, but clearly not.

As the night wore on, the buzz of the reunion picked up, and more familiar faces came and went. The wine flowed freely, and the tension between past and present felt less like a weight and more like a strange mix of nostalgia and regret. You were starting to relax, enjoying the unexpected camaraderie of having Irene by your side. It had become clear she wasn’t just tolerating the evening anymore—she was leaning into it, in her own subtle way. Her usual sarcastic quips were still there, but they had a bit more warmth, a bit more playfulness.

It was then that the moment you’d been dreading—Jackson—finally made his appearance.

You hadn’t seen him in years, but it didn’t take more than a few seconds for him to spot you. His face twisted into that familiar smug grin, the one you’d spent high school trying to avoid. He sauntered over, drink in hand, his eyes immediately darting to Irene. It only took him a moment to size her up, his grin widening into something far too pleased with himself.

“Well, well, well…” He looked at you first, then back at Irene, his gaze lingering longer than it should have. “What do we have here? I didn’t think you’d ever get a date for this thing, but, well, it seems you’ve outdone yourself.”

You tried to keep your expression neutral, but the old sting was still there, the reminder of high school’s worst moments rising to the surface. He wasn’t just an ass, he was an expert ass—a master at making people feel small.

Irene, however, didn’t flinch. Her eyes flicked over him, cool as ever. But the way her lips twisted, just slightly, into something that wasn’t exactly amusing caught you off guard. She wasn’t about to let him ruin your night. She wasn’t about to let anyone do that.

“So,” Jackson continued, taking a step closer to Irene with a suggestive grin, “did you get roped into this too, or are you the one with the real taste in men? Because, I gotta say” He motioned toward you, still grinning like he had the upper hand. “You could do a lot better.”

You tensed, but before you could say anything, Irene stepped in, her voice suddenly colder than the temperature of the room.

“Excuse me?” she cut in sharply, her tone dangerously sweet. “You think I’m here because I was roped into it?” She looked him over like she was inspecting a particularly repulsive insect. “No, darling, I’m here because I wanted to be. I wouldn’t waste my time with someone like you if I were paid to. And trust me,” she added, her voice turning slightly mocking, “I can do better than someone who thinks their charm is something worth showing off.”

The asshole’s smug expression faltered just slightly, his confidence wavering. “You can’t seriously think—” he began, but Irene cut him off again, her voice sharper than a whip.

“Oh, but I do.” Her eyes flashed with an icy intensity that made him take a step back. “But here’s the thing, buddy—you might want to look in a mirror and reconsider who’s really the joke here.” She smiled, but it wasn’t a pleasant smile. It was the kind of smile that made people feel small. “I’m here, because I want to be here, and there is no one else I’d rather be here with. You talk a big game, but you’re just a sad sack, at least Y/N is a good person, someone who doesn’t make me want to smoothen out my ears with sandpaper”

Jackson blinked, clearly stunned by her words. He opened his mouth to respond, but Irene didn’t give him a chance. Her voice, calm and controlled, broke through the tension like a blade.

“If you’re really trying to flirt with me,” she continued, “you might want to step up your game. You might have been cute back in high school, still I doubt it, never had a thing for bullies with a Napoleon complex bigger than their little peanuts, but now? Well, it’s clearer now that nothing about you’s changed. You’re still the same pathetic little boy trying to prove something that doesn’t matter.”

His face turned a shade of red you couldn’t quite describe. He opened his mouth again, stammering, but no words came out. Finally, he turned on his heel, muttering something under his breath before practically running away.

You stood there, blinking in shock, your heart pounding in your chest. That had been… unexpected. Irene was usually so detached, so indifferent, that seeing her actually stand up for you—really stand up for you—felt different 

She stood there for a moment, arms crossed, her usual confident mask still in place. But when she turned to you, her eyes softened for just a moment, concern, care, maybe even a tinge of affection, all wrapped in one, just enough that you could see the faintest glimmer of something like… pride?

“You’re not a complete disaster, you know,” she said quietly, looking at you as if she were trying to convince herself more than anything. “That guy was pathetic, but you? You’ve got more going for you than you think.”

You blinked, not entirely sure how to respond. “Thanks,” you said after a beat, your voice soft but full of sincerity.

She rolled her eyes, the typical Irene sarcasm flooding back. “Yeah, well, I wasn’t about to let him run his mouth. Someone had to shut him down.” Her gaze flickered briefly to the spot where Jackson had since retreated, and she smirked. “Honestly, he deserved it. Can’t believe people like that still exist.”

You could see her trying to hide the fact that she did care, that she hadn’t just defended you out of duty. But the way her gaze lingered on you for a second too long gave it away.

“Let’s just get out of here,” she muttered, her hand brushing yours as she moved to leave the crowd behind. But before you could walk away, she glanced over her shoulder. “And don’t think for one second I’m doing this for you. I’m only here because I’m bored. Remember that.”

Just as you were about to leave, however, you heard a soft song began to play. “May I have one last dance?” You asked, bowing your head as you extended your hand to Irene. Irene didn’t immediately respond, and for a moment, you thought she might dismiss you or make some sharp comment. But when you looked at her, you saw something else—something subtle in the way she relaxed, just a fraction. She sighed, eyes flickering from you to the floor and back again, and for the briefest moment, you saw that tiny spark of warmth she usually hid so well.

“Don’t make me regret this. You’re lucky I like this song.” she muttered, her voice soft but steady.

With a small, almost imperceptible smile, you led her to the centre of the ballroom. The music swelled around you, filling the space with a gentle rhythm as the two of you settled into the dance. The movement was slow, effortless—just the two of you, caught in a moment of quiet connection. Irene’s hand rested lightly on your shoulder, and hers in your hand was warm, soft, but her fingers still held that quiet, guarded strength that reminded you who she was.

Her gaze stayed just slightly averted, a faint blush colouring her cheeks. It wasn’t something you were used to seeing, and it made your heart skip a beat. You’d seen her icy exterior so many times, but here, in the privacy of this slow dance, there was something else—something less perfect, less guarded.

“I didn’t expect you to dance like this,” she said, her voice surprisingly soft, the teasing edge in her tone barely there. “I thought you'd be a disaster.”

You chuckled quietly, not wanting to break the delicate silence between you. “Well, I’m full of surprises.”

Her lips quirked, so subtle it was barely noticeable, like a wind in the storm. "I guess so." She shifted slightly, her other hand resting gently on your arm, her movements smooth, as though she was slowly letting go of her usual defenses. For a moment, you felt her melt into you, and it made your chest tighten with something you couldn’t quite place.

The song continued, and the two of you swayed in perfect rhythm, as though you’d done this a hundred times before. You couldn’t help but notice how close you were now, how every little movement seemed to draw her nearer. The smell of her perfume lingered in the air, warm and comforting, and you couldn’t resist stealing glances at her—just a quick look at the way her face softened in the quiet of the dance.

Irene’s gaze flickered toward the ground for a second, but when she looked back at you, it was with a rare, almost hesitant warmth. "I don't do this," she said, her voice almost a whisper. 

“Hmm?” You hum in curiosity as you continue to sway.

"Letting people close. But…"

"But?" you prodded gently, your heart thumping just a little faster.

Her eyes met yours again, and for the first time all night, you saw something different—a quiet acceptance, not of you, but of the moment. “But it’s not the worst thing.” She looked away quickly, her cheeks flushing a deeper pink now, but you caught a smile tugging at her lips.

You both danced in silence for a while, the music winding down, the world outside of the ballroom forgotten.  Her hand tightened around yours, just a fraction, as if to hold on to this fleeting moment, a moment she’d never admit to wanting.

As the final notes of the song drifted into silence, you weren’t ready to let go. So, you didn’t. You held her for just a little longer, letting the stillness of the moment settle between you. Her breath was steady, her chest rising and falling against yours, and you couldn’t help but let your eyes drift closed for a second. It felt peaceful—almost perfect.

But then, of course, Irene cleared her throat, breaking the moment with her usual sharpness. “Well, that wasn’t terrible,” she said, voice laced with sarcasm, though her tone was quieter than usual. “But don’t get any ideas. I’m not turning into some sentimental fool just because you managed to stand on your feet without tripping.”

You smiled at the playful edge in her voice. “I wouldn’t dream of it.”

Her lips twitched, the faintest sign of a smile, but she quickly masked it again. “Good. Let’s get out of here before you start thinking I actually enjoyed that.” But there was something in her voice—a softness beneath the teasing—that told you more than her words ever could.

As the two of you pulled away from the dance floor, the night seemed to fade into the background, replaced by a quiet understanding between you. Irene, despite all the walls she’d built around herself, had let a little bit of them fall tonight. And in that moment, with her hand still resting lightly in yours, you knew this was more than just a dance. It was the start of something new—something neither of you had expected, but both of you felt deep down.

But Irene? She would never say it. She simply looked at you, rolling her eyes, and muttered, "I’m not a damsel in distress, so don’t go getting any ideas about saving me, okay?"

You grinned, your heart full in a way it hadn’t been in a long time. “I’m not,” you replied, but the unspoken truth hung between you two—there was something here, something that went beyond what either of you would admit.

“Well, the night’s over.” Irene said, her usual matter of fact tone, but you sensed a lower, almost unspoken tone to her voice, as if she was almost disappointed. “Yeah, I guess it is. My second wish is granted.” You say, Irene vanishing back into the amulet. You rest your hand on the amulet, allowing your hand to linger. You hadn’t wanted Irene’s power, you still didn’t, but you had come to value her presence, and this night had just left you wanting for more. Too bad you only had one more wish left.

You let out a long sigh, stepping out of the shop with your groceries clutched in your hands. You had to make your last wish soon. It was always part of the plan—the last step, the one you had promised yourself to fulfil. It’s what you wanted at first, and it’s what Irene had said she wanted, too. But now that the moment had come, the hesitation clung to you like a weight around your chest.

You couldn’t shake the thought that something wasn’t right. After everything that had happened between you two—after everything you had gone through together—the idea of letting her go felt more and more like an impossible choice. She might’ve wanted her freedom, sure, but now that it was so close, you weren’t sure if you were ready for the finality of it.

Your footsteps echoed in the cool evening air as you walked, the weight of the decision pressing in. Distracted by your thoughts, you barely noticed the soft sound of footsteps trailing behind you. It was too quiet, too deliberate. Your heart skipped a beat as a cold shiver ran down your spine.

You glanced over your shoulder. Figures. Three men, walking too close. They emerged from the shadows with knowing grins, their eyes narrowing as they stared at your bags.

"Hey, you!" one of them shouted, his voice thick with menace as he sized you up. "Looks like you’ve got some nice bags there. Why don’t you hand ‘em over?"

You groaned. “Of course, first a kidnapping, then a mugging. The writer needs to get some new material.”

The leader stepped forward, his face twisting into a grin that made your stomach flip. "Shut it. Empty your pockets. Now."

The second man—tall, broad-shouldered—took a step closer, and the third, a wiry figure, pulled out a knife. The metal gleamed menacingly in the dim light, sending a chill down your spine. Your pulse quickened. This was bad. So bad.

You needed a way out. Anything.

Panic clawed at you, and before you knew what you were doing, you reached up to your chest, hand on the amulet resting on your neck. 

The air around you shifted. A swirl of light filled the street, and the men froze, confusion flashing across their faces. In the blink of an eye, Irene appeared, stepping into the scene with effortless grace. Her presence was like ice—cool, calculating, and impossibly beautiful. She didn’t even look at the men as she turned her sharp gaze toward them, her eyes narrowing in distaste.

"What do you think you’re doing?" Her voice was low, smooth, but underneath it was something far more dangerous. She didn’t move, only stood still, her cold stare cutting through the group.

The leader’s bravado faltered just for a second, but it was enough. He took a step back, eyes wide with fear. "What the hell are you supposed to be? A freak?" he spat, trying to sound tough despite the growing unease in his voice.

Irene didn’t even blink. Instead, she flicked her wrist. The knife in the leader’s hand was torn from his grip with a flick of her fingers, sent spinning across the pavement, clattering into the street. His face twisted with shock, eyes widening as he tried to comprehend what had just happened.

"Didn’t see that coming, did you?" Irene’s voice was syrupy sweet, dripping with sarcasm. She turned her attention to the second man without missing a beat. Before he could react, Irene was on him, her hand wrapping around his wrist in an iron grip. With one fluid motion, she twisted his arm behind his back and slammed him face-first into the pavement with brutal force.

The third man, seeing the others go down so easily, hesitated, his eyes darting around as if looking for a way out. But Irene was quicker. She raised a hand, and in an instant, the man was yanked off his feet, his body jerking toward her like a puppet on invisible strings. He flailed uselessly as she pulled him closer, her expression unchanging.

"Running?" Irene’s voice was dark with amusement. "How pathetic."

She lifted her hand higher, and with a final flick, she sent him crashing into a nearby dumpster with a sickening thud. The man groaned, crumpled against the metal, barely conscious but too dazed to fight back.

The leader was the last one standing, his face pale, eyes flicking nervously between Irene and his downed companions. Irene stepped forward, her gaze steady and dangerous. "You’re lucky I��m in a good mood," she said, her voice smooth and cold, "but you do not threaten my human."

The man stumbled backward, his legs trembling. But Irene didn’t let him get far. With a swift movement, she grabbed him by the collar, lifting him off the ground with a terrifying ease.

"Get out of here before I make you regret it," she warned, her voice colder than the air around you.

The man’s pride shattered as he scrambled to his feet, his resolve gone. He turned and fled, leaving his comrades behind, their groans the only sounds as they slowly regained their senses. Irene let him go, her shoulders relaxed but her eyes never leaving the spot where he had disappeared.

You stood there, still processing what had just happened. Your heart was hammering, your legs shaking slightly, but the adrenaline was slowly starting to wear off. You couldn’t believe what you’d just witnessed..

Irene turned to you, her usual cool mask still in place, but there was something different in her eyes. Something almost... soft. "I... I don’t know what to say. You just... saved me."

Her eyes flickered over to you, and she let out a sigh, her usual nonchalance slipping back into place. "Don’t get all sentimental," she muttered, crossing her arms in front of her. "It’s not like I did it for you."

You couldn’t help but laugh softly, a nervous sound, but a laugh all the same. The tension was melting away, replaced by a strange warmth. "I know. But still, thanks. You really... protected me."

Irene’s gaze flickered away, and her cheeks flushed just a little. "It’s not a big deal," she grumbled, the sharpness in her voice fading. "Just don’t go getting yourself mugged again. You’re a pain in the ass to deal with."

You chuckled softly, stepping closer. "I’ll try not to. Promise."

She shot you a sideways glance, a smirk tugging at the corner of her lips. "Yeah, you better."

The two of you walked in silence for a moment, the street around you quiet once again. The world felt a little less heavy now, your body still shaking but comforted by her presence.

You glanced down at your Amulet, then back at Irene. "I guess this is it, huh? My last wish?"

Irene froze. For a moment, she looked like she’d been struck by lightning. Her eyes widened, and she blinked, mouth parting as if she was about to say something but couldn’t find the words. Finally, she stammered, the icy coolness in her voice replaced by something... far less composed.

"That wasn’t a wish!" She snapped, her face flushed with embarrassment. "That was—! You—you didn’t wish for that! You’re—!"

You raised an eyebrow, a little surprised by her reaction. "But this is what you wanted, Irene. You're free now, right? Isn’t that what you wanted?"

Irene opened her mouth, then quickly shut it again, her face turning an even deeper shade of red. Her hands clenched, and in a flash, she bolted—vanishing into the amulet in a swirl of light, leaving you standing there, confused and left alone.

The apartment door slammed shut behind you, the sound echoing in your ears as you stood there, groceries still in hand. It had been weeks since you’d last seen your family, and you hadn’t been looking forward to this visit, but you couldn’t keep avoiding them. Not anymore. You took a deep breath, steadying yourself as you walked further into the dimly lit hallway of your childhood home. You had enough on your mind as it was, Irene having refused to emerge from the amulet

The place was just as you remembered—dusty corners, faded pictures on the walls, the smell of old furniture and lingering tension. You could feel it in the air before you even heard the voices.

"...You always do this, Mom. It's the same damn thing every time!" Your younger brother, Noah, yelled from the living room. "You never listen to anything I say. You just—"

"Noah, I told you, this isn’t a damn democracy! I’m the one who pays the bills here!" Your mother’s voice was strident, her temper rising as usual.

"You think you’re the only one who has problems, huh? You think it’s easy to get by in this house when everyone expects me to be some perfect kid?" Noah snapped back, his voice laced with bitterness.

The words hit you like a punch to the gut, dragging you back into memories you had long buried. The fighting, the yelling, the way they always pulled you into the middle of it. You’d spent your whole childhood walking on eggshells, trying to soothe the chaos, but it never worked. It never made them stop.

And now here you are again. As much as you tried to get away, you always ended up back here. The familiar pain crept back into your chest, an old wound reopening, threatening to consume you.

You swallowed hard, but the lump in your throat wouldn’t go away.

In the living room, your father’s voice cut through the argument, trying to mediate, but it was no use. His calm was as fragile as glass, and you knew it wouldn’t take much to shatter it. “Both of you need to calm down! This isn’t helping anyone!” he shouted, but no one listened.

You stood at the edge of the hallway, the tension in the air pressing down on you like a heavy weight. You wanted to go in. You wanted to be the peacekeeper, the one who fixed everything like you always did. But you could already feel the familiar panic creeping in, the suffocating sense of being caught in the middle. It was too much. It had always been too much.

You froze, the words slamming into you like a wave. The argument wasn’t directed at you, but it didn’t matter. The noise—sharp, accusatory, rising and overlapping—burrowed into your chest. It dragged you back, pulling you under, to a time you couldn’t seem to forget.

The yelling. The anger. The helplessness.

When you were a kid, this was the soundtrack to your life. You’d spent countless nights hiding under your blankets, trembling as the walls seemed to shake with their shouting. Even now, as an adult, the sound didn’t just echo in your ears—it lived in your body, burrowing into the spaces where fear and pain had carved out homes long ago.

The voices got louder, blending into one another until they were an unintelligible roar. Your hands tightened around the bag of groceries until the plastic handles bit into your skin, but it wasn’t enough to ground you. Your chest tightened, your breaths coming too fast, too shallow. The hallway around you seemed to blur, the walls closing in as your heart pounded harder, faster.

You couldn’t move. You couldn’t breathe.

And the worst part? You knew this would happen. You knew. But you came anyway, thinking this time would be different. It never was.

Your vision blurred as tears welled up, spilling hot and heavy down your cheeks. A small, broken sound escaped your lips—a plea, a whisper of desperation, before clutching your chest.

The words barely left your mouth before the air in front of you shifted. A sudden rush of cold, then a plume of silvery smoke, shimmering faintly in the dim light. From the haze, Irene emerged.

Her figure was unmistakable, her sharp eyes scanning the scene. The usual air of superiority that clung to her was still there, but it softened the moment her gaze landed on you. Her expression changed instantly, the sharp edges melting into something you’d rarely seen from her—concern.

“What’s happening?” Irene asked, her voice low but urgent as she crouched down in front of you. Her hands hovered near your shoulders, unsure for a moment, before finally settling there. “Hey. Look at me. What’s wrong?”

You couldn’t answer, couldn’t do anything but shake your head as the tears kept falling. Your breath hitched, caught in your throat, and you gasped, clutching at your chest.

“Shit,” Irene muttered, her voice tinged with panic. “Okay, okay. Listen to me. You’re safe. You’re okay. Just breathe. Can you do that for me? In through your nose. That’s it.”

Her hands moved to cup your face, her thumbs brushing away the tears streaking your cheeks. Her touch was cool, grounding, and her voice—low, steady—cut through the noise in your head like a lifeline.

“Focus on me,” she urged, her tone softer now. “Whatever’s happening out there doesn’t matter. None of it can touch you. You’re here. You’re with me. Just keep breathing.”

Bit by bit, the tightness in your chest eased. Your sobs turned into shaky breaths, though your shoulders still trembled under her steady hands.

When you finally managed to meet her gaze, her usual sharpness was gone. The Irene looking at you now was softer, her eyes filled with something warmer, more protective.

“They were yelling again,” you whispered hoarsely, your voice barely audible. “It just—it reminded me of when I was a kid. I couldn’t stop it then, and I still can’t... I just...”

Irene’s jaw tightened, her eyes flickering toward the muffled argument still raging in the living room. When she looked back at you, there was a quiet fury in her expression, like she’d burn the world down in an instant.

“You don’t have to stop it,” she said firmly. “You don’t have to fix it, or even deal with it. That’s not your job. And it’s sure as hell not worth tearing yourself apart over.”

She pulled you closer, her arm wrapping around you protectively. “Whatever this place took from you, it doesn’t get to keep taking. Not while I’m here.”

You leaned into her, the warmth of her words wrapping around you as much as her presence. For a long moment, you just let her hold you, her steady breaths anchoring you.

When the tension in your body finally eased, you pulled back slightly, meeting her gaze. “Irene...” you began, hesitating. “Why haven’t you taken my last wish yet? You just disappeared...”

Her expression softened, but only for a fleeting moment before she crossed her arms and glanced to the side, her cheeks faintly pink. “I—I didn’t disappear. I was... busy. Important genie things, you wouldn’t understand.”

Your brow furrowed. “Important genie things?”

“Yes. Very important,” she shot back, her tone defensive. “Unlike you, I don’t have the luxury of moping around all day.”

You tilted your head, a small, teasing smile forming despite yourself. “Irene, you’ve been avoiding me, haven’t you?”

Her blush deepened as she snapped, “Avoiding you? Don’t flatter yourself! Why would I avoid someone like you?” She turned her nose up, but the crack in her voice betrayed her.

“Then why?” you pressed gently, your gaze steady on her.

Irene hesitated, her sharp facade faltering as her eyes darted away again. She muttered something under her breath, too quiet for you to catch.

“What was that?”

“I said…” She huffed, her arms tightening over her chest as her blush spread down to her neck. “I didn’t want you to use up the wishes, okay? Are you happy now?”

You blinked, caught off guard. “You didn’t want me to use the wishes? But I thought you wanted to leave. To be done with humans. To be done with... me.”

Her eyes snapped back to yours, wide and flustered. “Wha—Why would you think that?! I never said that! Don’t just go putting words in my mouth, you idiot!”

Your grip on her forearm tightened, grounding her. “So you don’t want to leave?”

Irene froze, her lips pressing together before she let out a groan, dragging a hand through her hair. “Maybe—maybe it’s not so bad,” she admitted begrudgingly, her voice dropping to a mumble. “If it’s with you.”

The vulnerability in her tone caught you off guard, and you couldn’t help the small, teasing smile that tugged at your lips. “Of course. I’m your human, aren’t I?”

Irene’s eyes widened before her blush turned scarlet. She immediately buried her face in her hands with a muffled, “Oh my god, I can’t believe you heard that.”

“I did,” you said, unable to suppress a light chuckle.

“Don’t you dare read into it!” Irene snapped, lowering her hands just enough to glare at you. Her face was still bright red, her pout far more endearing than intimidating. “I am not some lovesick little puppy, got it? I’m still an all-powerful genie, and you—y-you’re just a ridiculous human who happens to need a lot of supervision, that’s all!”

“Whatever you say,” you replied, your tone soft as you leaned closer.

Her breath hitched as you reached out, cupping her face and pulling her in to press a gentle kiss to her forehead.

“W-What—” Irene spluttered, pulling back with a glare that was more flustered than furious. “What do you think you’re doing?! You can’t just—you can’t just go kissing me like that without warning!”

You grinned. “I thought you were all-powerful. Shouldn’t you have seen it coming?”

Her mouth opened, closed, then opened again as she struggled to find a retort. Finally, she turned away with an exaggerated huff, her arms crossed tightly over her chest.

“Ridiculous,” she muttered, her voice quieter now. “Completely ridiculous.”

“Not bad for a stupid human, aren’t I?” You tease, hugging Irene tightly

Irene rolled her eyes, but by now, she could do little to stave off the smile on her face. Seungwan would laugh at her, of that she had no doubt, but you were her stupid human now. And she didn’t mind it.

[stevesgother]

Little Red Lighthouse - S.H

Pairing - Steve Harrington x Fem!Reader

Warnings - exes to lovers, second chance romance, angst, slow burn, hurt/comfort, idiots in love, so much pining, cursing, alcohol & drug use, mental health themes

WC - 1.3k

AN - this was originally gonna be a super long oneshot, but in typical emma fashion I'm making it into another mini series

Divider by the amazing @strangergraphics <3

The Alcott. That was your favorite bar in Hawkins; and it was all you could think about sitting outside this shitty bar in Chicago. A mere few hours from home, and yet entirely too far. Just having finished school; it was an education completely orchestrated by your parents. A college you didn’t want to attend, a degree you had no enthusiasm for.

This was how you seemed to be spending most of your days post-undergrad: sulking and ruminating. Everything you could’ve had, but don’t.

–

“Steve, this is insane. That’s like a 15 foot drop!” 

You say as you peer over the bridge, shivering slightly in just your underclothes. It was only the cusp of Spring, the weather in Indiana hardly what you would consider “warm”.

“Oh c’mon. You said you would!” He barked a laugh.

“I told my mother that if you jumped off a bridge that I would too as a hypothetical.” You deadpan, even though a smile still tugs the corners of your mouth.

He looked lovely, always did. Moles adorning his cheeks, scattering their way down his back and into his boxers where your vision couldn’t reach. He shot you a grin only reserved for you.

“3..2..1 JUMP!”

“Wait!-”

Steve gripped your hand, pulling you down with him into the icy water below the bridge. Unable to decipher if the sinking feeling in your gut was from the rapid fall of his skin on yours. The shock of the bitterly cold water knocked the wind out of you.

“That wasn’t so bad, was it?” His smile gleaming at you. Water dripped from his eyelashes, beading on the apples of his cheeks.

 “It’s freezing!” you gasp as you surface. He starts to grip your shoulders in his warm hands, then pauses. A sudden nervousness settled and he was staring. You nervously wondered if there was something else in the water with you both. He never broke his stare. Your best friend for a million lifetimes, beautiful as ever. Looking at you as if you hung the moon just for him.

“I think I'm in love with you.”

–

When Steve finally peeled open his eyes and glanced at the blinking red of the alarm clock it read ‘3:00 PM’. His breath tasted of stale liquor as he slowly rose from his unmade bed. Skull pounding, he blindly reached for the painkillers he had made a habit of keeping on his nightstand, for afternoons like this.

Your old friend group planned a ‘welcome home’ party in anticipation for your return to Hawkins. Where you had gone to college out of state and made a new life for yourself, Steve hadn’t seemed to be able to keep his ahead above the violent current that was the trauma he endured here, in your hometown.

As you rested on the train back to Indiana, walkman in hand, you felt an air of nausea.You had started to regret leaving your car at your parents house 4 years ago; unsure whether the knot you felt in your gut was the result of motion sickness, or the thought of having to face him again.

Admittedly you were excited to see your friends again. You hadn’t come home for Christmas, for Thanksgiving, not even for summer breaks – always opting to stay as far away from that living nightmare as possible. You told yourself little lies. That it wasn’t because Steve Harrington still resided there, and with him, everything you lost. Everything you know you can never get back.

The air in Steve’s office was stiff and smelled of stale coffee. Robin sits in a less than lady-like position across from him in a chair unofficially designated for her. A plaque that reads “Chief” sat crooked between them from where Robin had set down the paper bag containing their lunch.

“You’re going to have to face her at some point, Steve.” Her voice snaps him out of his dissociative state.

“Yeah, I got it.” He sighs irritably, all traces of enthusiasm drained from his tone.

“I’m just saying,” she starts, “it's been 4 years. I’m sure she’s moved on, man. No bad blood.” It’s meant to be reassuring, but she doesn’t understand that that's entirely the problem. He gives her a skeptical stare. “Look, we’ll all be there. You have a ton of buffer people. Just stop by for a few minutes? For me?” The childish pout she gives in an attempt to guilt-trip is enough to push him over the edge.

“Rob- okay, fine. Stop making that face. For an hour. Not a second longer.” He points a finger at her, not unkindly.

–

As your car crunches over the gravel in the parking lot of Robin’s apartment complex, you can’t help but notice it’s already filled with cars despite you being perfectly on time. All the windows you knew belonged to her unit were lit a glowing yellow behind sheer curtains, allowing you glimpses of mingling silhouettes. You wonder briefly if this was intentional, or if in your never-ending brain fog, you managed to jumble the times.

A quick glance around the lot reveals that your friends still have the same cars they did all those years ago. Jonathan’s Ford LTD, Nancy’s Volkswagen Cabrio, and an achingly familiar maroon BMW 733i. Your heart jumps to your throat when you see it, accompanied by a sharp twist of betrayal in your chest as you don’t recall Robin ever mentioning he would be here. You suppose you can’t blame her.

You stop to take several deep breaths at the front door. You can hear the bass of an old, classic tune bumping inside and you try to time your breathing with it. In three, hold three, out three, and repeat. You raise your fist to knock before thinking it silly, so you just give the knob a tentative twist and walk in.

The room erupts in ‘Hey!’’s and ‘There she is!’’s. It’s a relief to realize they don’t hate your guts, even though they’ve always made it clear that they don’t. A nauseating guilt settles over you as you’re reminded of how long you’ve left them with barely any word from you at all– the pain of this town and everything that happened in it just too much to bear; even if they were your best friends.

Back then, talking to them sounded like long, mucousy vines that strangled and trapped. It sounded like the bitter cold and emptiness of your hometown mirrored just beneath your feet. It sounded like watching chunks of flesh be ripped from your boyfriend’s skin. It sounded like his screams for your help and you just couldn’t– you needed time.

Now though, as they wrap you in hugs and you smell the homey scent of your best friends apartment, it feels less like then and more like now. Over Nancy’s shoulder, slightly obscured by her usually wild curls, you catch the eye of the one person not dogpiling you, and fight the grimace threatening to surface. You don’t hate Steve, not by any sense of the word– you just can’t look at his stupid, beautiful face without remembering what you did to him.

When everyone disperses, satisfied with their greetings, you can really take in Steve’s appearance in front of you. The years haven’t been unkind to him, but he looks tired. Day old, maybe two, stubble shadows his usually bright face. He fills out the red sweater and light wash Levi’s he wears nicely. You think he’ll always have that boyish Harrington charm, but he looks more like a man than when you left him.

You walk towards him hesitantly.

“Hey.”

“Hi.”

[slozhnos]

winn’s life was so screwed up by his parents and then the show addresses it once or twice and then never again. this is why i have a love/hate relationship with it

[ramblingautisticman]

So, I haven't stopped thinking about this post I did talking about Logan being terrified of Wade going quiet because of the whole Stryker-sewing-his-mouth thing, so naturally I wrote a lil angsty thing for it.

(Also posted it to A03 here!)

(Also, @icarusredwings hope you enjoy, cause your little reblog of my post kind of inspired this lol!)

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

It's this constant fear. This constant nagging in the back of his head. Logan can't help it.

Normally, he's fine. Wade is practically talking every minute of every day, but on the rare occasions he doesn't, it catches him out.

Wade doesn't need to know that though. Wade doesn't need to be burdened with more of his own stupid hang ups than he already is. So what if some of his nightmares are more focused on Wade than they are his X-Men? No one but him needs to know that.

Logan just subtly makes sure Wade is fine, reminds himself that "Stryker is dead Peanut, trust me. You made sure of that." and moves on with his day. Mostly. Usually.

And okay, yeah, maybe he should tell Wade. Maybe Wade has a right to know about what happened to the 'other' him. Maybe Logan wants to tell him purely for his own stupid reasons. Maybe he wants Wade to know that Logan won't ever let anyone do that to him. Not this time.

He can't bring himself to tell him though- instead just keeps it buried inside like most of his other trauma- and it works for awhile.

Up until Wade gets a cold and loses his voice.

It's fine. It's totally fine. He is totally fine. Logan definitely hasn't been staring at Wade's mouth just to make sure it's still there. He definitely hasn't woken up terrified and sweating because of the nightmares happening more often. He definitely hasn't had a panic attack because Wade couldn't respond to him. No. Not him. Never.

He could deal with it. Wade was just sick. It was his stupid shitty healing factor working over time to stop the cancer, and as a result he had a cold. It was fine. People got colds. People lost there voice. It wasn't the same. Stryker hadn't done this. He still had his mouth. He could still make noise- hell- he could still speak! It was just alittle croaky and quiet.

Logan knew it really shouldn't get to him this much. After all this time, he should be able to move on from that stupid shit, right? He was over 200 years old, he was grown ass man, he shouldn't be hovering near Wade to make sure he is still breathing out of his mouth. He shouldn't be sitting so close to him on the couch just to hear the tiny mutters he makes. He shouldn't be glaring at his mouth just to make sure he still fucking has one.

He knows this Wade- the Wade that saved him- never went through the Stryker bullshit, and he knows that should comfort him. He knows that should fill him with relief, and in a way it does. It means he never had the one thing he holds so dear taken away from him. It just also means that- that could still happen- couldn't it?

Sure, Stryker was dead, but that didn't mean anything. Laura was still made in a lab and experimented on. Wade was still tortured and traumatised. Just because the guy that started all this shit wasn't around anymore, didn't mean it still didn't happen. Logan couldn't help but think that, any day, someone was going to come and take Wade away. Someone was going to hurt him in a way he wasn't sure he could fix.

Wade wouldn't be Wade without his mouth. He was called 'The Merc With A Mouth' for a reason. Wade's whole thing was talking. He loved making his family laugh and using stupid pet names and telling Logan all about the lore of his favourite show. He loved reading to Al and helping Laura with her drama class. He loved coming up with quick comments and snarky remarks while he killed assholes on missions. Wade just wouldn't be the same if he couldn't talk. Logan knew that all to well- and the though that one day, it might still happen? It just didn't sit right with him.

Even after Wade's healing factor fully kicked back in again. Even after Wade was back to rambling about cartoon dogs and his latest mission. Even after Wade had killed someone with a stupid joke. Even after he started making gross sexual remarks again.

Logan still woke up from nightmares terrified that the Wade he was laying next to had a scar tissue covered mouth. Logan still had panic attacks where the only thing to sooth him would be Wade's soft voice. Logan still subconsciously found himself staring at Wade's mouth- just incase. Logan still hated when Wade was quiet while watching a movie or eating something.

He wasn't sure he would ever get over it. Not fully. He would probably get better with the nightmares, grow used to them in a way he had with the others that frequented his mind, but he would still make sure. Double checking.

He would get used to Wade going quiet when he focused on a show or if he had a mouth full of food, but his eyes would still drift to his lips, making sure they were still there.

He would be okay with Wade sometimes loosing his voice, but it would still send a wave of panic over him. It would still make him lean in alittle closer so he could make sure Wade was breathing through his mouth or muttering something.

Wade would probably never know, Logan would probably never tell him, but he would get better. He would remember that this Wade hadn't been touched by Stryker faster when he woke up. He would settle quicker as Wade mutterd a quiet "I got you baby" as he wrapped an arm around him. He would find comfort in the fact that this Wade- his Wade- would never shut up.

No matter how hard anyone tried.

[jenoslutie]

bad idea, right? l l.dh

❥ Synopsis: You swear you've moved on, you swear you're happy in your relationship. But why is Donghyuck still on your mind? and why are you in his bed again

❥ Genre: Ex FWB!Donghyuck, Bf!Jeno, angst, smut, ??? with benefits au, she is toxic.

❥ Warnings: disloyalty, blackmailing, suggestive but no actual smut, just a whole lot of shitty behaviour from mc, even more implications to recording during sex jeno x reader, haechan x reader. not a happy ending.

❥ Word count: 3.8K

❥ a/n: hellooo angels <3 so uh, this is part 2 of is it casual!!! i KNOW this is not what u guys wanted but i fear this is how the story went!!! as always, feedback is much appreciated :P !! also THANK U TO @be-my-sunrise and @hanniesbrat for letting me yap to you guys about this odd ass fic LMAO

You hated the fact your boyfriend was roommates with the man that ruined you. You hated walking into your boyfriend’s apartment and seeing his face there, staring back at you as if nothing ever happened. You hated having sex with your boyfriend knowing he could come home at any time and hear you. You hated the fact that he still thought that your boyfriend was your friend and treated him like one. 

Jeno, your boyfriend, has been nothing but the best to you. He comforted you through all the late nights you wanted to spend crying, he held you through every moment you spent crying over that fucker until you realized how much you really like him. No man has ever treated you the way Jeno has. No love has ever compared to the love Jeno has given you and you wouldn't trade it for the word. 

“Jeno, I really don’t want to see him, can you just come over instead?” 

That’s how alot of your nights went, 

baby <3: donghyuck told me i need to move out baby <3: he fucking sucks  baby <3: he said i need to break up with u or leave because he can't stand seeing u around 

you: what the actual fuck  you: i'm so sorry  you: he actually sucks so bad  you: you’re welcome to move in with me in the meantime  you: or however long u want you: i'm so sorry for dragging u into this mess jen you: seriously 

baby <3: it’s not your fault baby  baby <3: we’re in this together. 

“You packing up your shit or what, loverboy?” Donghyuck smirked, leaning against Jeno’s door frame. 

“Use your eyes, Donghyuck.” Jeno scoffed, not sparing him a glance. He continued to pack his stuff into his boxes. 

“Oh, don’t forget to pack your girlfriend’s clothes! In Fact, I might have some in my room too, you want me to bring them to you?” 

“Fuck off, Donghyuck.” 

One thing you know for sure is Donghyuck fucking sucks. If he didn’t make that clear the first time around. You’d say you wish the worst upon him. However, some nights, you get deep in your thoughts and thoughts about your relationship with Donghyuck and you miss it. But one thing never changed, you always had Jeno by your side, every time, without fail. 

“Jeno, what if I never met you?” 

“Where’s this coming from?” He chuckled, pulling you in closer and kissing your head for reassurance. “I’m sure i’d find you one way or another, you're my person” 

It was little things like this that made you fall for him. You truly believe Jeno was the one for you. No one treated you half as good as he did. 

“I never want to leave you, angel. You’re mine forever” You smiled, cuddling closer to Jeno, you smiled to yourself when his scent hit you. He smelled heavenly, like he always did, the same comfort and warmth that drew you into him in the first place making you desire him even more today. 

unknown: hey unknown: i'm sure you know who this is unknown: we need to talk unknown: don’t tell jeno. 

Your heart sank. Donghyuck? It can’t be. 

you: who is this? 

unknown: [attachment: 1 video]  unknown: remember me? 

Your jaw dropped, clicking on the video to see you bent over the sink in a bathroom you could never forget, ever. Your hair a mess, you're deliriously calling yourself ‘his forever’. You fucking hated that he had anything to black mail you with such as this. You hated yourself for giving him that type of power. 

you: donghyuck. you: we have nothing to say to each other  you: dont try to contact me again

unknown: you’d be fine with me sending this to your boyfriend though, right?

Immediately, you called him. He was sick in the head and only got more and more out of hand. 

“Donghyuck, you’re not fucking funny” you spat, venom laced in every word

“Funny? Babe, who said I was trying to be funny?” He chuckled “I’m serious, did you forget your little boyfriend lives right next door?” 

You heard him knock on the wall, screaming out your boyfriend’s name.  “Jeno!” 

“Shut the fuck up!” A faint voice in the back. 

“Fuck off, Donghyuck.” And with that you hung up, falling back onto your bed with a sigh. 

“Jeno stop! They’ll hear us” You giggled, lightly pushing Jeno’s head away from his spot in between your legs. He’d been trying to get you worked up through your clothes the whole time youve been over at his apartment. This was the last week of him living here before he officially moves in with you and you both were ecstatic. Last week you’d have to see his face, last week you’d have to be in constant fear that he’ll overhear you and Jeno having sex and last week you’d have to even think about him.  

“We’re alone, baby” he pinned your arms down with one hand. “Let me eat you out baby, promise you’ll be good?” You gave in, nodding at the promise of Jenos mouth on you. 

“I’ll be good.” 

Jeno was talented with his tongue. His technique was unlike any other. He knew how to have you arching into his touch, begging for more, cumming within seconds. You’d describe him as a walking sex god. His way of having you craving more was unmatched. And you don’t think you’ve ever had anyone quite like that before. Not even Donghyuck. 

“Stop thinking about that fucker” Your boyfriend frowned, he could read you like a book and you genuinely dont know how he does it “He doesnt matter right now, it’s just you and me baby” 

‘I love you, Jeno” 

“I love you more than you can imagine, baby” 

He kissed you hard, taking your mind off anything you’d been thinking of before. All you could think of Jeno’s mouth on yours, kissing you with everything he had. Within a moment, Jeno had you undressed, laying under him in all your naked glory. Smiling your love drunk smile at him. Jeno trailed kisses down your body, all the way down to your pussy. 

“Jeno?” you called out, looking down at him with big, innocent eyes. 

“Yes, baby?” he smiled at you sweetly, starting to trail his tongue along your slit, “Pretty, pretty pussy” he mumbled under his breath. 

“Please fuck me already, I cant wait anymore. I need you in me” You pleaded, knowing your boyfriend would do anything but deny you anything.  

“God, I love you. Anything for you baby” He took no time before hovering over you again, pressing a soft kiss to your mouth. “My angel, all mine.” 

“She’s yours?” A voice suddenly interrupted you, a voice that was all too familiar. Jeno’s body hurriedly covered yours, protecting you from the eyes of the intruder. 

“Donghyuck, get the fuck out” Jeno spat. 

“No, If i remember correctly, she’s mine” 

“I was never yours,” You countered, pulling Jeno onto you closer. 

“Oh yeah? You want me to show you the video? As far as i know, your little boyfriend here still hasn’t seen it” 

You felt Jeno freeze, “What video?” Jeno asked you, looking at you with nothing but confusion in his eyes. 

Donghyuck kissed his teeth, “Oh, guess I shouldn't have brought that up right now. right, Y/N?” 

“Donghyuck, just get the fuck out.” 

Jeno pulled away from you as soon as Donghyuck left. 

“What video?” He repeated, looking into your eyes with the same hurt that you once looked into his with.  “Donghyuck recorded a video of us the last time we fucked, it was at his parents house on christmas, remember? Well, basically in the video he made me say I’m his forever. And he wont stop blackmailing me with it” 

Jeno sighed. “He's blackmailing you?”  

“Yeah, look.” you reached for your phone to find the messages Donghyuck had sent you the other day. You looked away from Jeno, feeling ashamed from the whole situation. Donghyuck apparently lived to humiliate you, never letting you catch a break from his antics. 

“Baby, I’m so sorry.” He hugged you, pulling your naked body against his own. “You could’ve told me sooner, I could’ve dealt with him myself” Tears were threatening to slip from your eyes, feeling overwhelmed by Jeno’s loving words and Donghyuck’s bullshit. 

“But i couldn’t, Jeno” Full on sobbing now, you let the tears fall freely down your cheeks. “I was too scared, he’s insane Jeno” Jeno just hummed, rubbing your back reassuringly. 

“You’re not mad?” You asked 

“It’s not fair of me to be mad, this happened before we were dating, it’s not fair for me to hold that against you.” He smiled, pulling away to look at your red, puffy, tear stained face. “My baby. Not his, I promise I’ll get us out of here as soon as i can” 

donghyuck: i heard u and ur little bf were on a break  donghyuck: i think i have some ways to make your break worthwhile babe

you: i'm not your babe. donghyuck.  you: plus, you’re the reason we’re on break in the first place. you: dont contact me again, please. 

donghyuck: you know you miss me y/n.  donghyuck: don’t you miss the way i made you go crazy?  donghyuck: remember the time in my car? after i caught you kissing that fucking loser chenle? donghyuck: you were on me like you needed me to breathe. you can’t even deny it.  donghyuck: now open the door baby, i’m outside. 

You were quick to open the front door, seeing Donghyuck standing infront of you with that stupid fucking smirk on his face. He knew that was your weakness. He knew he was your weakness. 

“Miss me?” You hated his cocky tone. You hated that you actually opened the door for him. You hated that you actually did miss him. He let out a chuckle at your silence, he knew how to read you like none other. Not even Jeno. 

“C’mon, let me in. You know you want to” You hated yourself for actually stepping aside and allowing him into your house, into your safe space. Memories of the endless nights you spent crying over him in the safety of your own house all blurry. 

“H-Hyuck..”

 “Oh? We’re back to Hyuck now?” 

“Is it bad that I want you to kiss me right now?” Your words were hushed but loud enough for him. 

“Yeah?” You nodded, looking down at your feet, too scared to look at him. “Why don’t you beg for it? Since you like to do that a whole lot hmm?” He smiled when he heard you whimper, inching closer to you slowly until he was close enough to wrap his arms around you. 

“Are you gonna beg or are you gonna make me wait longer?” Immediately, a sob left your lips “Hyuck, please kiss me. I missed your lips on mine so much” 

And without another word, his lips were pressing onto yours with the same intensity you craved, the same intensity that once drew you into him. You swear you almost fell for him again when he cups your face, tilting your head up and deepening the kiss. He began walking, lips still on yours forcing you to walk backwards blindly until suddenly you were falling back onto your couch where he followed suit. 

You pulled away, admiring the honey skinned man above you with a small smile. “I missed this” A soft smile mirrored the one adorning your face. 

“I missed you like crazy, no other girl compared to you”

“Why’d it take you so long to realize?” He paused, staring at you blankly. 

“Just– took me a minute..” with a sigh, he leaned down and kissed you again, trailing his hands under your shirt. Grazing your warm skin with his cold hands, sending chills through your body. 

“You gonna let me fuck you? Remind you how I'm so much better than your little boyfriend?” 

“He’s not my boyfriend.” 

“Oh? Last time I checked you were smitten over that guy” 

You hated where this conversation was going so you tried your best to change the topic, “You’re the one about to fuck me right now no?” 

“Shut u–” He was cut off by the sound of your phone ringing. 

Jeno. 

Jeno has given you space for almost a month now. Only sending you messages to check in on you occasionally. All to which you replied positively, ensuring him that you’ll be ready to get back with him soon. In reality though, you were nowhere near getting back with Jeno. You spent nearly every night of the past month in Donghyuck’s bed, either cuddled into him or you under him. Something about the way Donghyuck made you feel was unmatched and you’ll never get sick of saying that. 

You stepped into Donghyuck’s kitchen early in the morning, seeing him in just a pair of grey sweatpants with his back turned towards you. It didn’t take long for the waft of the pancakes he’d been cooking up to reach you. 

You gawked, “You’re making breakfast?” He turned to you, an unimpressed look on his face (though you could see him fighting a smile.) “Does that surprise you?” and you fought the urge to affirm that it does truly surprise you to see him doing something nice for you. 

Instead, you hummed, “No, not really.” With a small smile on your lips, you walked up to Donghyuck who had switched his attention back to the pancakes he had cooking on the stove, wrapping your arms around his bare torso. His skin was soft and warm under your touch. 

“Good morning, angel” He hummed, placing a hand over yours. The two of you swayed in a comfortable silence. This is how times with Donghyuck usually went, quiet and calm until he was suddenly kissing up on you, feeling up on you or begging to be inside you. 

“You wanna sit and wait at the table for me?” You chirped a “sure” and detached from him, making your way over to the dining table, sitting down on your favourite chair. 

baby <3: good morning angel baby <3: can i see you today?  baby <3: i miss you, wanna hear your voice so bad :( 

you: of course you can :)  you: actually, let me just call you right now. you can still come over later tho :P 

It didn't take long for an incoming call from Jeno to come through.  

“Good morning angel” You could hear his smile through the phone. A smile creeping up on your own face just from picturing the beautiful smile adorning his face. “Good morning, handsome” He chuckled, “You sleep well?” 

“You could say that..” You trailed off, thinking of the way you were cuddled into Hyuck last night, the warmth of his body keeping your own body warm. You slept better than you have in a while. 

“I miss sleeping with you” Jeno admits, the pout in his voice too obvious. You frowned, feeling the guilt take over you. 

“You can stay the night tonight if you want” You lowered your voice, hoping Hyuck wouldn’t hear all the way in the kitchen. 

“Oh, no, I still want to give you space! I think i’d be impeding a little if I were to stay the night” 

“I don't think so, you’re welcome to stay” 

You heard him sigh in relief, “Okay then, I’ll come by in a bit.” 

“See you soon, angel.” 

You bid your farewells and that's when you noticed Hyuck walking into the room. “Who was that?” He questioned, setting the two plates of pancakes down. You broke eye contact with him, focusing your  attention onto the pancakes in front of you. 

“I asked you something, you know?” 

“It was Jeno.” 

He hummed, wordlessly digging into his own plate of pancakes. You felt so guilty. This isn’t where you belonged. You belong next to Jeno, in his arms, under him, near him. You belong with Jeno. Someone who treats you like a proper human. But you found yourself running back to Donghyuck and you hated it. Worst part of it all? Donghyuck didn’t even know you and Jeno aren’t officially broken up. You’d been too scared to tell him, too scared of the possibility of losing Donghyuck in your life. So you’d decide it’s best if he doesn’t know your relationship with Jeno. It’s not even like it matters, right?

“What the actual fuck” Jeno gawked, looking down on his phone screen. He’d originally planned for today to be a rest day after the hell of a day he had at work yesterday but his peace was disrupted when suddenly he got a text from his ex roommate. 

donghyuck: hey jeno  donghyuck: its me donghyuck donghyuck: i know you might hate me right now but you might wanna see this.  donghyuck: [attachment: 1 video]  donghyuck: before you come for me, i had no clue you guys weren’t officially broken up at the time of this  donghyuck: im sorry jeno. 

Attached was a video of a girl, naked body on all fours as the person behind the camera (presumingly Donghyuck) pounded into her from behind. The problem? The problem was the girl had the same hair as you, the same body, the same everything as you. Even that little tattoo on your shoulder that read “delicate” in a beautiful cursive font that Jeno had helped pick out. Everything was you. 

jeno: donghyuck.  jeno: thanks for this… i genuinely can't believe it. 

Within a heartbeat, Jeno was pulling up your contact. 

baby <3: hi angel  baby <3: can i come over? i left my hoodie at ur house and i need it

you: sureeee thing!  you: let me know when ur abt to reach <3 

Jeno, furious, hurriedly grabbed his keys and got in his car. He thought after what you’d been through, you’d know how it feels to get your heartbroken like this. He’d expected you of all people to be better than this but no, you had to be the absolute worst of them all. He thought maybe you of all people would keep his heart safe but no, you clearly gave no fucks about him or his heart. 

He managed to calm down by the time he got to your apartment. Breathing in and out before ringing the doorbell. 

“Hi Jen!” You chirped, allowing him in. You were wearing an oversized shirt that exposed your newly tattooed shoulder. The same tattoo that was visible in the video. Jeno’s heart sank the more he looked at you. The girl he once gave his heart, his love, his everything to, is the one who he’s currently dreading speaking to. In other words, he hates you right now. Hate was one word he would’ve never imagined using with you. 

“You okay, love?” you frowned, wrapping your arms around him tightly, pulling him close into you. He hated the innocent look on your face as you peered up into his own. He had a soulless look in his eyes. “I’m fine,” He forced a tight lipped smile, peeling your arms off him. “I’m gonna– uh, grab my clothes.” 

You watched as he walked into your room and went straight for your closet, rummaging through to find his hoodie. 

“Jeno” You started, walking into the room behind him. “What’s wrong? Talk to me baby,” 

Jeno sneered, turning around to look at you with narrowed eyes. “What's wrong Y/N?” His voice raised, he wasn't yelling but it was clear that he was upset. “What’s wrong is while I gave you space to figure out your shit with Donghyuck, you went out and were fucking him. While continuing to lead me on. Isn’t that wrong, Y/N? Don’t you think I deserve any loyalty? Any love in return? While I sat here, impatiently waiting for you to come back to me, you were taking advantage of it and fucking the reason we were on break. Don’t you remember how we met in the first place? All those nights I spent being a shoulder for you to cry on, being there for you every step of the way. Don’t you think I deserve anything?” The hurt in his eyes was more than evident. You looked dumbfounded, eyes wide in shock as you stood frozen. 

“Jeno–” You cut yourself off, at a loss for words. Sighing in defeat, you gave him an apologetic look. “I’m sorry. I felt so incredibly guilty everytime, but something in me just couldn't stop. I hate myself for doing it and you deserve to hate me for it too but I’m so sorry.” 

“I loved you, Y/N. How do you think it feels when your girlfriend’s ex fling– or whatever he was, texts you randomly, telling you that your girlfriend had been fucking him the whole time you’d been on break? It’s not a great feeling, I’ll tell you that. Oh, and having to see a video of it? Even worse. I’m sorry Y/N but I don’t deserve this. I gave you my everything and you couldn’t even spare me an ounce of loyalty.” 

“Jeno, a-are you leaving me?” He felt like laughing in your face, do you seriously think he’ll stay after this? 

“Genuinely, do you think I’d wanna stay after the fact, Y/N? Honestly, I want nothing to do with you anymore. Consider us done.” He gave you that same, tight lipped smile, gathered his belongings and walked out your bedroom door. 

“Jeno!” You called out, he stopped in his steps, turning to look at you one last time “I’m so sorry, I love you.” Tears were threatening to spill from your eyes. 

“No, you really don't. Goodbye Y/N, don’t contact me again, please, for my sake.” And with that, he walked out your door, leaving you broken and in tears. You had no one to blame but yourself. If you hadn’t let Donghyuck in that day, you would have saved yourself from this mess, you would've still have Jeno in your life and you wouldn't be here, crying in your doorway. 

Filled with rage, you dialled Donghyuck’s number, he picked up on the second ring. 

“Why the fuck wouldn’t you tell me, Y/N?” He spat, you could tell he was angry. “You had me thinking this whole time, you’d broken up but in reality, you were leading on poor Jeno and still fucking me? How do you think that makes either of us feel? I know I did something wrong the first time around but this time? You fucked up, Y/N.” 

“Hyuck liste–” 

“Don’t call me, Y/N.” 

With that, he hung up. Your heart dropped, you felt as if you’d lost it all in the span of under an hour. All that you cared about in life had been ripped out of your hands with no one to blame but yourself. You hated what you’d done, hated what you’d done to these two poor men. Neither of them deserved it, especially Jeno and you had no way of going back in time and fixing it. 

[chinzhilla]

thank you for your comment!

first i just wanna say i apologize for lifting that language from your post when really this was an outburst of frustration about the general increase in people shitting on gmmtv for being gmmtv. i saw so many posts (not just about TTH) that rubbed me the wrong way that day and your phrasing stuck in my head and made it easy to be pithy. but it also surely made it seem like a targeted attack which i know feels shitty so i'm sorry for that!

it actually seems like we agree more than either of our original posts imply (which given that they're both like 2 lines long i feel like is a perfect illustration of why sites like twitter are such war zones but i digress). i meant it when i said aof fucked up with LT - i didn't even finish it when i heard how the last two episodes went. and i hear you on the concerns about tone and follow-through. plenty of gmmtv series seem not to know what they're trying to be, which doesn't always make them unenjoyable but there have been some over the last couple years that i've really had to muddle through the back half of (dangerous romance and 23.5 are the first that come to mind)

so i would never want to ask people to be uncritical! i've just been really frustrated lately with people being overly dismissive of gmmtv, and also with this trend of making negative assumptions about series or episodes before they've aired (which is not exclusive to bl fandom - i got super annoyed with certain portions of the 9-1-1 fandom about this recently). that said i share a little bit of your hesitation about TTH just because i got so excited by the trailer and about gemfourth in this project and i just want it to be good SO bad!

sorry again for indirectly taking my frustrations out on you, and thanks again for the reply! i hope we both get everything we want from gmmtv next year 🩷

‘can we trust gmmtv with ticket to heaven’ idk can we stop acting like gmmtv has never made anything worth watching

[ashwhowrites]

Prompt angst 1 with Robin where reader hangs out less and less with Robin and when confronted it’s because she likes her but can’t compete with Vickie

What’s the point of trying if it just proves that I’ll never be good enough?

I hope this is what you wanted and you enjoy it. Thank you for requesting 🫶🏻

I hate her

Y/N tried her best to not fall for Robin's pretty face and clumsy personality. They were meant to be friends and nothing more, but Robin made her heart race and palms sweaty. But it didn't matter how Robin made her feel, she wasn't the one Robin wanted.

Robin had a crush on Vickie for over three months and it was silently killing Y/N. She was a good friend so she listened to Robin declare her love for Vickie all day every day. Maybe it wouldn't have hurt so bad if she was honest about how she felt. There was a time before Vickie, when Robin and Y/N were dancing over the friend line. A slight tease of what could be and Y/N basked in it until the light went out.

Now it was all Vickie. Robin didn't even spare a second glance at Y/N anymore. Vickie seemed to offer something better and Y/N couldn't help but feel replaced. She felt as if her efforts weren't good enough and it stung. Whatever Robin wanted from Vickie, Y/N could easily do. She felt like a kid begging for attention, doing anything to get Robin to look her way.

Y/N felt tired of trying. She was tired of how upset she felt whenever Robin turned to Vickie instead. Y/N was the original but Robin didn't seem to care. Y/N knew she deserved someone better and someone who made her feel first.

She began to spend less time with Robin, letting her heart heal. She didn't want their friendship to end but she needed space. At first, it seemed like Robin didn't notice and that made Y/N feel even worse. It hurt to see Robin focus all her attention on someone that wasn't her. The jealousy wasn't firey, it was more cold. She wasn't jealous in the way she wanted to show Vickie who Robin belonged to, it was the painful jealousy that kept her up at night and made her think less of herself.

As the days passed, Y/N barely saw Robin. Which is what she wanted but it proved that she only saw Robin when she initiated it. Robin didn't bother to make time to see her, which made her think the friendship might not be worth saving.

~~~

Robin swallowed her tears as she saw Vickie press her lips against a guy. They seemed familiar with each other, almost like they were a couple. Robin had this hope that Vickie was gay but she was wrong.

Steve placed a comforting hand on her shoulder, knowing how crushing the moment was for Robin. But Robin shoved his hand off and ran out of the store. She allowed herself to cry once she made it outside, the reality that she and Vickie would never be settling in.

~

Y/N was surprised to see Robin at her door but welcomed her in.

"What are you doing here?" Y/N asked, and her question sent Robin into a breakdown. Robin sobbed, making Y/N's heartbreak. She quickly wrapped her arms around her, trying to calm her down. "What's wrong?"

Robin pulled away to collect herself, wiping off her face. "Vickie has a boyfriend," she said in between tears. Y/N fought back the want to roll her eyes. She was unsuccessful in holding back her scoff though, easily catching Robin's attention.

"What?"

"I haven't seen you in days and you finally come but it's because you want comfort because of Vickie!" Y/N exclaimed, annoyance clear in her voice.

"I need my friend! Which you haven't been for the past few days," Robin bit back, her blue eyes squinting into a glare. Y/N laughed humorlessly, she crossed her arms and created more space between them.

"And yet you never cared enough to ask so seems like we are both shitty friends," Y/N snapped, a sharp smile on her face.

"What is your problem? What's with the sudden cold shoulder?" Robin asked she wanted her friend but she couldn't find her. "All I wanted was some comfort after my heart was shattered and you don't seem to give a shit."

"Because I don't, Robin!" Y/N snapped, her voice slightly rising. "I don't care about Vickie and I don't care about your love for her. I never cared and I never will. I hate Vickie. I hate the way she makes me feel and I hate how much you feel for her."

"What is that supposed to mean? How can you hate her when you've never had a conversation with her?"

"It doesn't matter," Y/N shrugged. "Maybe you should go."

But Robin stayed put. "No, we are going to talk. You are done avoiding me. I don't know what your problem is with Vickie but she doesn't deserve your cold treatment."

"What’s the point of trying if it just proves that I’ll never be good enough?. What is the point of telling you how much I'm in love with you when you'll never look my way? My problem with her is that you love her, Robin. And you don't love me." Y/N admitted, tears falling down her face as she looked at the floor.

Robin was stunned. She never once thought her best friend was in love with her. Hell, she didn't even know she was into girls. Robin swallowed her spit as she felt her throat get dry.

"I-um-I" Robin stuttered, truly at a loss for words. "I don't know what to say. I'm sorry."

Y/N bit down on the inside of her cheek, trying to keep more sobs back. "Can you just tell me if there's a chance for us?"

Robin looked into her wet eyes, watching the tears disappear down her chin. She watched as Y/N chewed on her cheek, trying to stand strong but it was clear to tell she was falling apart.

"No," Robin whispered, her heart aching as Y/N turned away from her. She reached out but Y/N flinched away.

"Please leave"

"Y/N, can we please talk through this," Robin pleaded. She didn't want to lose a friend. Y/N shook her head, still not turning around as a few cries left her mouth.

"No, Robin. No amount of talking will make this work. I can't be your friend, it's too hard," she sobbed.

"So that's it? We just walk away and never talk again? That's not fair!" Robin fought.

Y/N turned around a defeated look on her face. "I don't care. I need to be done."

Robin scoffed, she couldn't believe Y/N was going to throw away their friendship over something Robin couldn't control. Y/N was determined, and she wasn't going to change her mind.

"Fine, have a nice life," Robin spat as she walked out the door. Y/N closed her eyes as the door slammed, the sound ringing in her ears.

She took a deep breath and opened her eyes. It was going to be hell getting over her but it was possible. And she knew she'd be okay in the end.

[honeyhae-svt]

🎮Part-Time Lover | JxW 🎭 `~^\___TEASER___/^~`

JxW Fanfiction / Jeonghan & Wonwoo FF (SERIES)

Afab!Reader x Jeonghan & Wonwoo - MDNI Genre: Smut, CEO x Streamer, CEO x Employee, Gamer x Gamer, Streamer x Gamer, Streamer x Streamer, Enemies to Lovers(?), Friends to Lovers(?), Friends with Benefits, Slowburn, Angst, Romance, RomCom, Workplace Romance, Love Triangle(?), Slice of Life, Modern AU, (inspired by GAM3B01) ⚠️ WARNINGS ⚠️: explicit sexual content (18+, smut), alcohol consumption, mentions of drunken behavior, slight workplace power imbalance (CEO x Employee dynamic), strong language (profanity), cyberbullying/online hate (mentions of rumors, edited content), emotional manipulation (mild, e.g., jeonghan’s cold treatment), petty arguments (playful/tense, potential verbal sparring), depictions of stress/anxiety related to online and work life, light suggestive jokes/humor, mentions of romantic/sexual tension between characters, enemies to lovers-style tension (includes teasing, rivalry, jealousy), and my shitty writing (lol I hope y'all enjoy on this one) wc: 734

TEASER

🎮 "In a world where gaming isn’t just a hobby but a battlefield..." 🎭

By all accounts, your life shouldn’t be this complicated. You’ve mastered the double life effortlessly—or at least, that’s what it looks like from the outside.

By day, you’re the razor-sharp assistant to Jeonghan, a CEO whose reputation is as sleek as the tailored suits he wears. In the professional world, you’re known for your no-nonsense attitude, your precision, your ability to keep up with a man whose demands leave most people in the dust. By night, though, you’re a completely different force: Kitsunya. The streamer with a bite, whose persona is as sharp as her gameplay. You’ve carved out a name in a world that doesn’t give second chances, where every mistake—or perceived mistake—can uncover years of hard work.

And for a while, you had it all figured out. A rhythm. A balance. Two worlds, perfectly parallel, never touching. Until that night.

You don’t need anyone to remind you what happened—though your brain seems to enjoy doing it anyway. One drink too many, a kiss you didn’t mean to give, and suddenly, Jeonghan was no longer just your boss. He was the man you’d kissed. The man whose lips lingered far too long in your memory, though you can’t tell if it’s from embarrassment or something else entirely.

The fallout? Silent, subtle, but impossible to ignore.

Jeonghan hasn’t spoken a word about it since. But he didn’t have to. His actions say it all: the coffee runs to nowhere, the cold detachment, the subtle but deliberate way he keeps you at arm’s length. And yet, his eyes linger. Longer than they should. As if he’s waiting for you to say something—or maybe daring you not to.

But here’s the kicker: you’re not even sure you know what you’d say.

And then, there’s Wonwoo.

Oh, Wonwoo. The thorn in your side, the bane of your streams. The gamer who seems to have made it his life’s mission to get under your skin. What started as casual teasing during streams has evolved into full-on verbal warfare, the kind that has fans pulling out popcorn and hashtags. It should be easy to dismiss him as just another troll in your life, but there’s something about him that’s… infuriatingly magnetic. You hate that you’re even thinking about him right now.

The tension between you and Jeonghan is one thing. But now, people are starting to notice the dynamic between you and Wonwoo—particularly Jeonghan. You can feel it in the way his gaze sharpens when your name comes up, the way he watches your streams a little too closely. It’s not possessiveness, not exactly. But it’s something, and you’d be lying if you said you didn’t feel the heat from it.

Then, just when you thought things couldn’t get messier, the gaming world turned on you.

A viral clip. A doctored video accusing you of hacking. In a space where credibility is everything, the hit was personal. Haters piled on, armed with accusations and hashtags, while loyal fans fought to defend you. It was chaos. But you? You handled it like you always do—with a smirk, a quip, and a gameplay session that shut them all up.

Still, the stress is starting to seep in, and you don’t know how much longer you can keep your walls intact.

And then, Seungcheol happened.

A party, he said. Just a casual get-together for streamers and friends. You’d turned him down initially—your schedule was packed, and honestly, you weren’t in the mood to socialize. But Seungkwan and Hoshi wouldn’t let up, their constant nagging somehow finding its way into your streams and DMs. By the time the weekend rolled around, you found yourself with no choice but to show up.

So, here you are.

Jeonghan’s there, of course. Polished, poised, and watching you with an intensity that makes your skin prickle. Wonwoo’s there too, leaning against the bar with that infuriating smirk of his, as if he knows something you don’t. And the rest of your circle? Laughing, teasing, acting like life isn’t one giant chess game where every move feels loaded with meaning.

The night is young, and the air hums with the kind of energy that promises something big.

You thought boss battles in gaming were tough? This tension, unresolved feelings, and unexpected rivalries would be enough to make your hairs attached to your head fall out. Because the real game? It’s just getting started.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

a/n: to make up the loss of my sudden-long vaca, i wrote this for the reader-anon who requested this ages ago (a wonwoo ff but i decided to add my lovely wife, jeonghan to the mix cause i love and miss him so fucking bad). and now, im making a teaser cause i feel bad for staying out far too long. i have a ton of works pending and im already on it cause like wtf i love writing and this has been on my head far too long. I HOPE YOU GUYS WOULD WANT TO READ THIS AND LMAO I HAVENT EVEN FINISHED OMC SERIES AND IM ALREADY MAKING ANOTHER ONE WTF ajwnruoenfguoaofa im making a masterlist, for those who wants to be added on the taglist reblog / comment on this post and you'll be automatically added ! TY FOR READING ILY GUYS SM

[bb8banner]

Mr. Perfectly Fine (Drabble)

“Do you seriously think he’s doing okay? Did we witness the same scene or are you drunker than I am?” Hissed Lucy.

“He seemed perfectly content walking away with whoever the fuck that was.” Retorted Buck through gritted teeth.

Granted, his vision was blurry and it was too hot in the bar. It was all too much. The music was too loud and he’d definitely drank a little more than he’d planned. Maybe a lot more. Eddie was moving next week. Eddie who was facedown back at the booth, probably falling asleep with his pitcher of beer half drained by now.

Tommy left with some random blonde. Tommy wasn’t his anymore. Hadn’t been for 3 months.

It had been a bad call, the perfect end to an already shitty week. Then tonight, he’d run into Tommy, Lucy and the blonde at the popular first responders bar after shift, not under the best of circumstances, but what difference did it make. Tommy was visibly drunk, stumbling out of the bar with the blonde holding him up, laughing on the way out the door. Probably didn’t even notice Buck glaring the whole time, nauseous and pissed off.

Lucy had come up to him then, and their argument had sprung out of nowhere.

“That was my brother. A total riot, but very straight. I saw you staring, not very subtle Buckley.”

“Should’ve left with them then, or what? You planning on coming on to me again?” That came out sharper than necessary, he and Lucy were cool right? At least they had been up until three months ago.

Lucy stared daggers into his eyes.

“Go fuck yourself, honestly. You of all people should know what it’s like. You have Eddie, I have him. I’m always going to look after him, and for the record I think you’re both idiots. He’s hurting. Bad. I know he was the one to pull the plug, I know he fucked up. But you don’t get to judge him, okay? That’s my job. If he wants to get drunk and blow off steam, he can. Otherwise you wouldn’t be here either right?”

“Why are you still here? If you care so much why not go with him. I don’t understand why you’re still talking to me.”

“I’m here with someone, so if you’ll excuse me, I’m going back to her.”

Lucy turned the corner, making her way towards the back of the bar, away from Buck. Away from the answers he was desperate for.

“Wait.” He said as he made a grab for her arm.

“Wait. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have spoken to you that way. Just… please. What do you mean he’s not doing okay?”

[tommykinard217]

(a thanksgiving ficlet that got away from me lol. Happy thanksgiving to those who celebrate, I love you all! )

Holidays were never really all that special to Tommy. When he was a kid, holidays were tense affairs. Thanksgiving dinners made by his mom that his dad would nitpick at. The man didn't even sit at the table with him and his ma, his face turned towards the football game as he shouted that the turkey was too dry, the mashed potatoes too lumpy, the gravy too watery.

Tommy had never really thought there was anything wrong with the food, but his dad was never really happy about anything to begin with.

Tommy never really existed during the holidays. It was like he was a ghost. At first, when he was younger, he tried to decorate and cheer his parents up and help around the house. Anything to make them smile. But it didn't work. So eventually, when he was a teenager, he just stopped trying.

He either stayed in his room or he got out of the house, taking his bike to the river and just sitting on the river bank, looking across the water. By the time he got home, the food would be packed away as leftovers. There wasn't a plate set aside for him.

Then his ma passed and there was no one to make thanksgiving dinner.

Once again, the river was his friend. He contemplated getting a fishing license, so that he could actually do something other than stare at the current of the river as it crashed against the rocks and mini island formations.

By the time he got home, the house was dark, his dad passed out on the couch surrounded by empty beer cans. Tommy had felt the urge to clean up, maybe mitigate whatever possible anger his dad would build up in the morning. But he didn't really care. His dad would be angry regardless, and he'd still feel as alone as ever even with his dad screaming in his face and threatening him with punishments he was too old for at this point.

Eventually he enlisted. Anything to get away from his dad and the metaphorical ghost of his ma haunting the kitchen.

In the army, there was no river to bike alongside. No riverbank where he could sit down, and stare across the water. Just dirt and noise and shitty MRE's. Somehow it didn't feel all that different from the thanksgivings of his childhood.

Then, he was out of the army. He had a choice. Go back to his shitty town on a shitty river, haunted by his dad and his ma. Or go somewhere else. Somewhere different.

Different won out, for once. So he packed up what little shit he had and made his way to LA of all places. Signed up to a firefighting academy. He needed the structure the army gave him, and he'd actually get to help people this time.

Once he was out, he got assigned a firehouse. The 118. Gerrard was just like his father, minus the alcohol. Cruel, exacting, looking for a flaw in everything you did. Tommy knew how to handle Gerrard, and that was to just ride him out. Let him yell, let him get angry and threaten you. Don't react, don't talk back. Just let it happen until he tires himself out.

Thanksgiving with the 118 once again was the same as any other year. Shitty takeout instead of MRE's or leftovers, but other than that, it was all the same. Thankfully the job kept him busy.

Too many people thought they were immune to flame and oil and their own general stupidity, and the amount of turkey induced fires they had to put out was steadily climbing. Each year they seemed to break a new record.

Every year was the same. Tommy was alone or lonely or both, he scarfed down shitty food, and it was just another day to him.

And then Evan came around. Evan with his bright smile and warm demeanor. Evan with his endless facts and his strong hugs. Just...Evan.

And Tommy had been certain that maybe this thanksgiving was going to be different.

And maybe that was his mistake.

He was a coward, after all. All his life he had just run away. To the river, as a kid. The army, as an adult. The West Coast, after he was discharged. All he ever did was run.

And so, here he was. His first thanksgiving off, staring at the takeout he bought, trying to remind himself that this was normal. For him, at least. He was used to this.

Granted, the guilt was eating him up. He'd stared at his phone for what felt like hours, trying to figure out what to say. I'm sorry? I miss you? Take me back, I'm miserable without you? None of those were acceptable. He broke things off. He ran away. Ev-Buck deserved better.

But right as he was about to sit down, maybe watch a movie or two, his doorbell rang.

As he walked to the door, he wondered on who it could be. A neighbor? Someone asking for charity donations? A Mormon?

But it wasn't any of those.

It was Evan.

Hands shoved in his pocket, looking nervous but determined.

"Come on, you're missing out on dinner." Evan pointed to his jeep, waiting for them.

Tommy was, understandably, fucking baffled. "Wait, what?"

Evan sighed, rolling his eyes. "I'm mad at you." Fair. "But I also miss you and I don't want you to be alone on Thanksgiving. So you're coming with me, you're eating Bobby's turkey, and the five different pies I've baked." Evan baked? Since when did Evan bake? Five pies? Tommy was so confused.

Tommy was honestly speechless. Because, what? "I miss you too." Was the only thing he could really get himself to say. And it was true, at least. Tommy had felt Evan's absence like an actual hole in his heart. Heart pumping over time to accommodate the wound and failing.

"Good. Because I'm not letting you go. And I'm not letting you let me go. We're going to actually talk after this, got it?" Evan had grabbed onto Tommy's hand, pulling him towards the jeep as he spoke.

"Got it." Tommy wished he could say more than two syllables at a time, but how could he? What could he even say? I love you? I'm sorry please let me spend the rest of our lives groveling? Nothing would be adequate.

But as they got into the jeep, Tommy blinked and reality settled in. Evan was here. Evan was bringing him to Thanksgiving dinner. Evan. Evan. Evan.

"I'm sorry. For being a coward." He finally let out. "You didn't deserve that."

"No, I didn't. But I get it. I came on too strong, I went a little insane and overcorrected. You also went insane, and we both should have talked. But we'll do that later. After we have a perfectly normal Thanksgiving together. Howie is probably gonna punch you a little for not texting him back, by the way."

Yeah, that was all pretty fair, honestly. "I didn't think Howie really wanted to talk to me, after everything."

Evan rolled his eyes. "Yeah, you tend to make decisions for othe people without actually considering what they want. We'll work on that though."

We. Evan kept saying we. And it felt good. It felt so good to be a we again.

"You're right. I've been an ass. And, I'm going to work on it. For you. Me. Us. Our friends. I mean it, Evan."

A warm, gentle smile. "Good. Now come on. Everyone's waiting for us."

Everyone meaning. Everyone. Bobby and Athena. Maddie and Howie and Jee. Karen and Hen and Denny and Mara. Everyone.

No one was angry, there were no tense silences. Just joy and forgiveness and thankfulness.

And as Evan held Tommy's hand as he lead them through Maddie and Howie's place, Tommy was starting to see how special the holidays really could be.

It wasn't perfect, and like Evan said, they had a lot to talk about afterwards. But as Bobby carved the turkey and placed some on his plate, as Howie grabbed the mashed potatoes and passed it his way with a joke and smile. As Maddie punched his shoulder (fairly hard, he had to give her that) but then hugged him the next second. As Hen gave him a searching look, like she was waiting to see if he was gonna make a run for it again, but then a satisfied nod when she saw the resolution on his face. Tommy realized this was what he had been missing out on, all those years ago.

And he wasn't going to let it slip past him again.