#it's an endless circle and i'm tired just really really tired of it all

[sunraies]

Rafe x Sleepy! Reader where he freaks out that she’s not answering her Phone and thinks The worst scenario that she’s sick of him, cheating etc. But It gets better when she calls him while he’s with The boys and she’s in her pj’s telling him she just woke up and asking what happened that made him call so many times 🥹

Sleepy baby

As requested above

Warnings - insecurities, toxic thoughts, drug use, drinking, and mentions of sex. Ending fluff.

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16 hours ago, you posted to your insta story. 16 hours since you'd been laughing, smiling, singing, and dancing into the camera. Music pumping and disco lights blazing as you partied into the night.

You looked so happy, surrounded by your college friends. Some he knew, and some he didn't. He wished he could have been there with you. Long distance was slowly killing him, he was sure of it.

Although he'd been uneasy about you going so far away, things had been working out. He visited as often as he could, and you came home for the holidays. But it was moments like this when he started to doubt it all. His mind would spiral.

At first, he thought there was a reasonable explanation for you not texting him when you made it home and for not responding to his messages. You were probably to tired and drunk, simply forgotten.

But as the hours ticked by and multiple messages and phone calls later, his mind began to wander to darker places. You didn't need him anymore. You had finally realised it. You had found someone else. Someone else had found you.

You were a college student, you didn't need some hometown boyfriend dragging you down, you had finally decided to live your best life. Without him. Party, sex and drugs.

Well, two could play at that game. The moment Topper had told him about a party happening, he immediately said he would go. Fuck it, he was still the Kook King, he knew how to party, how to have any person he wanted.

The problem was that you were the only person he wanted. After a few drinks, he found himself where he normally ended up at parties. Sat with his boys, Topper, Kelce, and Barry, nursing a beer, smoking a blunt, doing a few lines, and glazing into the fire pit as the sky of endless stars shone above them.

"Bro, that's like the billionth time you checked your phone." Topper pointed out as Rafe pulled his phone out of his shorts pocket again.

"What's up, Little Miss Havard ghosting you?" Barry teased as he through arm an over Rafe's shoulders.

"Fuck off" Rafe tried to shake his arm off before sighing as looked at his phone again.

All that stared back at him was you as his lock screen and a couple of notifications, but none from you.

"Oh, shit. You really think she is?" Barry's smirk dropped, suddenly noticing his friend genuinely down about something.

"She's probably just busy," Kelce tried to reassure him. "You know with essays and shit. I mean, I have a shit ton, and that's just online"

Out of everyone in their little friend circle, you were the only one who moved the furthest away. Topper was on a gap year, Kelce was doing online courses, Barry was dealing, and Rafe had to follow in Ward's footsteps. A few of your friends did gap years.

Rafe nodded slowly. "What if, what if she's do -" He didn't finish his sentence as his phone screen suddenly lit up. 'FACETIME - Baby 😍 💍'

He nearly dropped his phone in the panic of answering it. For a spilt second, he thought about letting it ring out of spite. You'd not answered any of his. But he couldn't do it, for all the spiralling his mind had been doing. He needed to talk to you.

"Rafe, hey, you ok?" You looked so sleepy as you rubbed your eye. "I'm so sorry, I've been asleep all day"

If he could have jumped into the screen and kissed you in that moment, he would have. You looked so adorable, hair in a mess, no makeup, clearly sat in your dorm room bed as he recognised the bed sheets and the tapestry on the wall behind you.

What made his heart warm the most was that you were in one of his t-shirts. One of many you had borrowed/stolen.

He knew he was smiling at his screen like a complete goof. But he didn't care.

"Where are you?" You asked, trying to work out the noises around him and odd lighting of the fire pit. "Why did you call so much? Everything ok?" You asked, concerned.

"Everything's good, baby," He smiled. "Just at a party with the boys." He turned the phone around to show them

"God, Rafe, no don-" Too late, there you was in all you sleepiness. Proudly held up on his phone screen.

"Mrs Country Club!" Barry greeted as the others said "yo" and "hey"

You awkwardly waved and smiled as your cheeks burned before Rafe turned the phone back him.

"Well, I better not keep you from the party. As long as everything is ok?" You could tell something wasn't quite right, but didn't push it. He'd tell you in his own time. He always did.

"Everything is fine, my sleepy baby." He smiled, not giving a shit if the others heard.

"Alright, see you this weekend? Facetime tomorrow?" You smiled as he nodded before saying I love yous.

"Aww, my sleepy baby. Sleepy bab-" Barry teased before Rafe pushed him. Causing his chair to topple backwards onto the grass. Making everyone who witnessed laugh.

He glanced at his phone one last time, seeing you smiling face on his lock screen and new message 'Baby 😍💍 - I really do love you ❤️😘'

[miabebe]

Calendar Killer (HJS)

Was it really love if it didn't include just a little madness? What was love if it didn't cross the line? And how was it love if it didn't care whether it was the red of love and the red of blood?

Pairing - Afab!reader x Detective! Hong Jisoo (Joshua)

Word count - 14K (we are back to Mia's inability to be concise)

Genre - Psych thriller, smut (18+), supernatural elements hinted, warnings under the cut!

A/n - This is the last installment of my 95s psych thriller Halloween series - I know its late but I just wanted to finish up what I committed to. Also, this is the wildest thing I have ever written, I'm not kidding, buckle up! I do suggest reading Jeonghan's and Cheol's before this!

Thank you to Lola ❤️ @monamipencil, the love of my life for beta reading this and filling our chat with 'oh my god's and frantic comments - I'm a lot more pleased with this piece now hehe

Warnings - Please note that this fic is dark, not morally appropriate at all and as psychotic as it gets. With that being said, let's goooo - people missing, mentions of deaths, bodies, murders, serial killer, mentions of stalking, choking, blowjobs, throat fucking, hair pulling, cum in mouth, masturbation, manhandling, unprotected sex, rough sex, marking, slight dubcon, creampie, psycho thoughts and behaviour

The station buzzed with the oppressive hum of a fluorescent light, flickering occasionally. The air was thick with the musty scent of old paper, the subtle clicking of the typewriter and cold winds blowing in through the open door.

“Great job today boss.” 

Joshua looked up from the paperwork strewn across his desk at Minho standing by the coffee machine, a mug in hand. the dark circles stark under his eyes. It had been a sleepless few weeks for everyone in his team and nights at the station were only getting longer and longer. 

Giving a tired nod of acknowledgement, Joshua turned his attention to what he liked to call his ‘murder board’. Wrong choice of name yes, but someone once told him that positive manifestation was a real thing. Maybe if he kept calling it a ‘murder board’ for long enough, one day he’d finally find himself climbing the ranks, handling real murder cases. He knew with just a little more power in his hands, he could be brilliant - he was a good detective, he had great intuition, he was sharp, efficient. Oh he’d make a fantastic sergeant or maybe even a lieutenant but instead, here he was, sitting in a tiny cubicle, the pages of his case files scattered across his desk, each one heavy with unanswered questions.

Six missing persons cases. That’s what Joshua was stuck on now.

Given his brilliance, it normally didn’t take more than a week for him to crack a case but these? These cases had turned into a three-month-long nightmare of frustration - endless hours of interrogation, dead end leads and constant running in circles. What bothered Joshua the most was that he had spent five years in the field, aced every exam, and most importantly, the sergeant position had been vacant for two months—ever since Hye Jin left for maternity leave. And yet, here he was, stuck in this cubicle, staring at the empty faces on case files, with no promotion in sight. How could he ever climb the ranks with these six cases making him look like an undeserving amateur?

One miracle—that’s all he needed. Six miracles, really. One clue per case, just a single point he had missed, one thing he might have overlooked. Shutting his eyes and leaning back in his chair, he sighed, wondering where on Earth he should look for answers. If only they walked into the station, looking for him. 

And then, you did. 

The creak of the door was what made Joshua’s eyes flicker up, following you as you stepped into the precinct.  You were wet from head to toe, hair sticking to your face and neck, your knee-length white nightgown clinging to your body as if you’d been caught in a downpour.

Joshua glanced outside. 

The sky was gray and heavy, but it was not raining. 

He frowned, rising from his chair. “Can I help you?”

You didn’t speak right away, your eyes darting around the room, searching for something. Joshua’s instincts flickered to life. Something was off, not in a way that screamed danger. Just… unsettling.

Water dripped all over the floor as you walked barefoot, struggling to take steps, shaking eyes, trembling lips and bruised knees accompanying you. Hand hovering over his pager, Joshua’s gaze shifted to his team, who were quietly filling the room, all of them sensing the shift in the air.

 “Are you okay?” He took a tentative step toward you, searching for answers on your face when you refused to meet his eyes. Instead they kept darting nervously over your shoulder and towards the door as though someone was about to follow you in. 

Joshua frowned at the entrance. “Is someone else coming-” 

“Don’t look.” You whispered, grabbing his hands, skin cold and grip tight. “I need help.” 

With a single gesture, Joshua had his team pull up a chair for you as he shrugged off his jacket and wrapped it around your trembling shoulders before gently guiding you to sit. The air around you hummed, almost electric, as if something unknown was lingering.

Stepping back, Joshua leaned against his desk. “What’s going on?”

You hesitated, glancing nervously around the room. When you finally met his eyes, Joshua softened his expression, silently urging you to speak.

“Talk to me.”

“I.. I’m..” You muttered, your hands nervously fiddling with the fabric of your nightgown. “I’m being followed.” 

Joshua's brow furrowed, and he exchanged a glance with his team who immediately began heading towards the door. But you shook your head, fear evident in your voice. “They’re already here. In the precinct.”

“What do you mean?” He studied the room, his mind racing as everyone began frantically looking around, more alert than ever. “No one came in after you-” 

“Y-you can’t see them.” You raised your head, looking directly over Joshua’s shoulder, gulping. “.....Only I can.” 

Joshua followed your line of vision, his eyes finding the empty corner of the room. What on earth were you looking at? 

“I don’t understand, Miss…?” 

“Y/n,” Your voice was steady despite the fear in your eyes.

“Miss Y/n.” Joshua hesitated but still squatted in front of you, his eyes level with yours. “I’m here to help. You have to tell me exactly what’s happening..” 

Taking a shaky breath, you pulled the jacket closer to your body. “It started a week ago, I was coming back from the supermarket and there was a woman, standing right at the edge of the street.” 

“Was she someone you knew?” 

You shook your head. “I could sense her following me all the way home so I made sure to close the door as soon as I stepped inside but when I went into the kitchen…. ..she was already there.“ 

Joshua’s jaw tightened as he listened, watching you gulp the phantom lump in your throat. 

“I grabbed a knife and ran out, screaming for help, but when I brought my neighbor in… there was no one. It was like she vanished…. disappeared, into thin air.”

Joshua’s brows furrowed. “She ran off before you got back?”

You didn’t answer the question, simply continued. 

“Then the next day she was there again, but this time with three others. It was too early in the morning, the street was empty, I-I couldn't even ask anyone for help. When I entered the house I locked myself in again, but when I went into the kitchen…” You let out a shaky breath. “They were already inside. And just like before, when I tried to get help… they disappeared.”

 Joshua leaned forward, concerned.

 “The third day there were more of them, but this time I ran back to the store to get the cashier or the other townspeople to help me but no one could see them….. even though there were, standing right there, at the door, no one could see them.” 

The room grew tense as Joshua exchanged looks with his team. What was happening here?

“Miss Y/n are you sure they were there?” Joshua asked, his voice low.

“I’m not crazy,” You whispered, voice trembling. “They were there then… and they’re here now. All ten of them, right behind you.” 

Joshua felt something cold trickle down his spine. This time, he didn’t feel like looking behind him..

“Y-you can’t see them because they…” You hesitated.. “They are spirits.” 

The room that was already quiet to begin with grew more silent. Even the fluorescent light seemed to pause, waiting for someone to break the tension. Joshua blinked in disbelief, then scoffed softly.

“Spirits?” He repeated, incredulous. “You’re saying ghosts are following you?”

You didn’t flinch at his tone. Your gaze remained serious, too serious as you nodded.

Joshua’s eyes flickered to his team, who were exchanging nervous looks. Things were slipping beyond the edge of rational thought. Was this the universe’s way of taunting him? Yes he has always wanted to work on more complex cases but a beautiful looking seemingly mad woman who could see spirits? That was not on his bucket list. Nor was it his expertise. 

Ji Ho, the only woman on the team and ever the skeptic, slowly walked up to you, her voice calm but firm. “Miss Y/n, don’t worry, we can get you the help you need-” 

“You think I’m crazy.” You shook your head, eyes wide, desperate and not leaving Joshua’s “I swear, you have to believe me, I’m not insane.” 

Realising you wouldn’t cooperate, Joshua held up a hand, signaling for Ji Ho to step back as he slowly reached for his pager, dialing in the code for help.

 “I promise we’ll help you Miss Y/n, you need to trust us-.” 

Suddenly, moving with startling speed, you grabbed the pager out of his hands, anger in your eyes sharp. 

“You’re not listening!” You hissed, your grip tightening around the tiny device. Your hands, which had been shaking just moments before, suddenly stilled. It was as if you had snapped into a new state of resolve - you weren’t just pleading for help anymore; there was something else behind your gaze. Demand.. “These spirits won’t leave me until I give them what they want and you're the only one who can help me do that. I-I can’t live like this anymore.”

Joshua’s fingers tightened around the edge of the desk, his knuckles turning white. Something was off. You were clearly in distress, but there was something more beneath the surface. Something dangerous. The guard he had called for arrived at the door, waiting for his orders. Joshua nodded at Ji Ho who understood immediately and whispered something into his ears. As the uniformed man took off, Joshua walked over to this seat, pulling out a book and a pen. He had to engage you till he had help, he had to play his cards right. 

“Fine.” He flipped to an empty page, ready to write. “Tell me more. These spirits, what do they want?” 

“T-they’ve been telling me their stories, about who they are, about what happened”

“Okay…. Who are they?” Joshua tapped his pen against the surface. “Do you know their names?”

You shook your head. “I…I don’t but, I can ask.”

Looking around the room at nothing in particular you began mumbling something. Slowly, one after the other, you started dropping names as though you were repeating after an invisible, unheard voice. Joshua scribbled them down, eyes constantly darting towards the door, waiting for help. But as the list got longer, with each name he wrote, Joshua felt his guts twist. 

As did the whole team.

 Because they had all spent enough nights on those case files to have every detail memorised. 

Six of the ten names were the missing cases they had been working on. 

“A-are you sure these… these are the six names?” 

“Ten.” You corrected him. “Yes, these are the ten names.” 

Ji Ho met Joshua’s eyes from across the room, shaking her head. How could it be? More than half the names matching their list of victims, this…. This couldn’t just be a coincidence right? 

“You said you can see them? Can you, maybe, describe one of them for me?” Joshua studied your face as your eyebrows furrowed. “The old woman, Ye Soon, what does she look like?” 

“S-she’s around 60 years old. White hair, kind of like a curly bob. She’s got scoliosis so she stands a little crookedly.” You looked at the empty space behind him. “She also has a burn mark on her right hand.” 

Joshua froze. You were right. Down to every detail. 

“And Macy?” 

You turned around, looking over by the window. “She looks like a typical college kid - soft features, long straight hair, cheeks a bit sunken. She also peels the skin by her nails, they’re all bruised.” 

Right again. Your words matched the photos tucked away in the case file almost exactly. 

“And Jason-” 

“Officer Hong, we’re wasting time.” You shook your head. “Describing them is of no use, it doesn’t matter. What matters is what happened to them.” 

“You mean….” Joshua tapped his foot, his mind racing, the realisation just dawning upon him.. “You mean how they died?” 

“I mean how they were murdered.” You lowered your voice just a little. “And now they want justice.” 

The silence now was cold, heavy and deafening. No one knew what to do - the weight of your words had immobilised them all. 

“Josh.” Ji Ho, the only one unable to stay silent anymore, stepped up. “A word?” 

Excusing himself, Joshua got up and made his way to his team, all seven of them huddling around. Some of them looked terrified, constantly looking around, some looked at him plain confused like they still hadn’t put the pieces together. 

“Something’s wrong.” Ji ho crossed her arms. “There’s no way she-” 

“Knows the exact names and descriptions of missing people? Details of a private investigation?” Minho quipped. “I think it finally makes sense why we’ve not been able to trace these people…. They're dead.” 

“Which means all this while what we should have actually been looking for, are bodies.” Jaehyun sighed.

“What?” Ji ho looked at the boys like she couldn’t believe they were falling for this. “You think this is real? You think spirits are actually talking to her?” She turned to Joshua. “Please tell me you’re smarter than to believe in this madness.” 

“I don’t know what to believe right now.” Joshua pinched the bridge of his nose, lost in thought. “I think we should hear what she has to say-” 

“Josh-” 

“Ji Ho, we've been on these cases for months without a single solid lead.” He sighed. “As impossible as this might seem, I am desperate and I want to take a shot.” 

“You’re wasting the team’s time. I don’t think-” 

“She came to me, the case is mine,” Joshua looked at her pointedly. “So I call the shots.” 

Throwing her hands in the air, Ji Ho walked away, refusing to be a part of what she mumbled - a meaningless spectacle. Joshua returned, pulling a chair up, sitting right before you. Although he was the one who wanted answers, you beat him to the questioning. 

“You don’t believe me do you?” You sounded so scared. “You think I’m insane.” 

“I want to believe you, trust me Miss Y/n, you have no idea how easy it would make my life to believe you, six of these people are actually….” Shaking his head he held himself back, sticking to what was important. “The point is, you have come to the right place for help, the law can help you. But the law also requires proof, you need to prove what you’re saying is true.” 

You gulped, tapping your feet unsure, eyes darting around. 

“Ye Soon, that old woman.” You looked at him, slightly hesitating. “What if I took you to her?” 

Joshua frowned confused.

“What if I showed where she is…. “ Scooting closer to him, you whispered. “She told me everything, I can take you to where her body is.” 

Ji Ho looked at Joshua with narrowed eyes. Joshua returned her look with an unreadable expression. As though the universe had timed it all, the guard finally returned with help - two men dressed in soft blue scrubs carrying the logo of the town’s only psychiatric hospital. 

There were one of two things Joshua could do. He knew sending you away was the right thing to do, he knew you needed help, he knew listening to you was madness. 

But he also knew you were the closest thing to answers he had gotten in months. 

Turning to you, he pulled your chair closer. “Show me.” His voice was low, urgent. “Right now.”

Joshua stood by the back door, the rain slashing against the pavement like a thousand tiny daggers. He lit his cigar, inhaling the smoke as the faint hum of the town’s heartbeat seemed to vanish into the downpour. The cold air bit at his skin, but he didn’t care. His thoughts, heavy with the case, weighed him down more than any storm ever could.

Beside him you stood, leaning against the brick wall, your arms holding on to his jacket, wrapped around your midsection as if bracing against the cold. Your damp nightgown had long since dried, but the way you stood, your shoulders slightly hunched, made it seem like you were still caught in the storm.

Joshua couldn’t help but watch you. Something about you unsettled him, though he couldn’t put his finger on it. His eyes found their way to you, running all over your features, lingering longer than they should have. 

“Smoking is bad for your health.” 

You finally spoke, looking at him with those big eyes. Brown, soft, expressionless eyes. 

“I believe every man should have some bad habit.” Joshua chuckled, offering a small smile. “Keeps him grounded.” 

You laughed softly—a sound that almost got lost in the rain’s incessant roar, but thankfully, his ears were sharp enough to catch it.

“Do you have a bad habit Miss Y/n?” 

You hummed, looking far off at the quiet darkness of the town. “I don't know if this is bad but, I tend to go to any lengths to help the people I love.” 

Joshua’s lips pressed together. His gaze flicked to you, considering your words. “Must be why the spirits chose to talk to you,” he muttered, more to himself than to you. “Maybe they knew you’d help no matter what.”

When he turned to see what you thought of that, he found a small almost imperceptible smile tugging the corner of your lips. It was subtle, but present, making his chest tighten unexpectedly 

“What?” he asked, his voice betraying the flutter in his chest.

You shook your head, still smiling. “I’m just relieved you believe me.” 

How could he not? Afterall, Ye Soon was indeed where you said she would be - at the abandoned ice cream factory, tucked away in a large freezer, the body months old and ice cold. His team—especially Ji Ho—had recoiled in disbelief, but you? You hadn’t flinched. You stood aside, quiet and composed, as the body was recovered.

Over the last two hours, samples of hair, nails, fluid and whatever else that could be found were gathered and sent to the forensic lab for analysis but Joshua had a bigger question to address. 

“Is…” He took a deep breath. “Is Ye Soon somewhere around here?”

“She’s by the gate.” You turned to him. “Why?”

“I just want to confirm….. you’re sure she didn’t see the face of her killer?”

On the ride back, you had recounted Ye Soon’s entire story to the team. How she had felt  like she was being stalked for a long time. How she didn’t usually go anywhere at night but on the evening of her birthday, she couldn’t resist the free dinner invitation she received. How she was walking to the restaurant, dressed up and all alone when she was attacked from behind. 

You shook your head, expression slightly dejected. “No, her killer wore a mask so she had no idea who it was. One moment she was hit on the head and bleeding to death and the next, she found herself looking at her body in the freezer…. as a spirit.” 

“If justice is what she wants, it's going to be hard without having any idea who the killer is.” He sighed. “For now, we can start looking into why a freezer was functioning in an abandoned factory for the last 4 months but…. I’m not sure if it’ll lead to anything solid.” 

“Don't lose hope already.” You pushed yourself off the wall, taking a step closer to him. “The forensic team might have some answers.” 

“I hope so.” He nodded, but his thoughts were elsewhere. His gaze lingered on you, and for a brief moment, he imagined what it might be like to trust you completely. “Miss Y/n, I'll need you to lead me to the other nine bodies too. I hope it won’t be too much trouble for you.”

“Of course not.” You shook your head, hand finding his wrist reassuringly. “Although one of them is quite far and it's already past midnight-”

“Not now, tomorrow morning.” He glanced at your eager expression, hands itching to tuck that tiny strand of hair behind your ear. “It's late now, you should head home.” 

You nodded, drawing your hand back, and Joshua already missed the warmth of your touch. Taking a step back, you attempted to remove his jacket, but when a strong gust of wind blew, a shiver ran down your body.

Joshua chuckled, pulling it up your arms, adjusting it over your shoulders. “Keep it, it suits you better.” 

“Careful officer.” You smiled at him. “If you come asking for it again, I won't give it back.” 

“Fine by me.” He laughed. “Let me grab my keys, I'll drop you.” 

“That's okay, I'll walk.”

“It's raining Miss Y/n. I don't think-”

“I like walking in the rain.” You stuck your hand out in the pouring water. “Makes me feel good.” 

“I could walk you.” 

“It’s not like I don’t have company.” Joshua frowned as you giggled. “The spirits, officer. They follow me everywhere.” 

That flicker of something playful in your eyes - Joshua was seeing it for the first time. When you had walked in here earlier you had been so terrified, shaking, desperate for help. Now you seemed so unfazed. Maybe you were glad that you were finally getting help. Maybe you were never really terrified. Either way, the unsettling shift in your demeanor troubled his mind. 

“You sure you’ll be okay?” His tone was lighter than he intended, masking what he was truly feeling.

“I’ll be fine,” You brushed him off with the wave of a hand. “I’ll just get lost in my own thoughts, without any distractions.”

Joshua didn’t stop you as you began walking. He simply watched as you glanced over your shoulder, muttering a small “good night” before stepping into the rain. Slowly, as your figure was swallowed by the darkness of the night, Joshua retreated into the debate in his mind. Should he follow to make sure you weren’t in trouble?

Or were you the trouble that was looming around the corner?

Joshua leaned back in his chair, his eyes locked on the scattered files in front of him. The low hum of the fluorescent lights above, along with the steady, almost rhythmic tap of his fingers against the desk, were the only sounds that filled the otherwise silent room. The pile of crime scene files seemed to grow heavier with each glance—each one a grim reminder of the ten bodies they had recovered. Ten people dead, each with their own story, now reduced to nothing more than photos, forensic reports, and police notes.

Two weeks. Two long weeks of following the trail you’d led them to, finding all ten victims hidden in the most unimaginable locations, each one’s story recounted with haunting detail. As per protocol, his team had collected every piece of evidence they could find, and the progressive inspection of each item only further corroborated your stories. Ji Ho, who had initially resisted being part of this madness, had also joined, keenly looking into the details of the investigation.

There was just one detail that Joshua could not wrap his head around - the fact that all ten victims had apparently not seen their killer’s face. 

Each one had been attacked from behind - either struck on the head, run over by a car, strangled from behind or shoved off a building. It was always from the back, perfectly concealing their perpetrators face, keeping that identity a mystery.  Aside from this one detail which was making the progress of his investigation incredibly difficult, Joshua did not notice anything strikingly similar amongst all the cases. 

That was until he was staring at his now very real murder board earlier today. 

It was filled with a dozen pictures and pins, only getting messier with every detail but there was one connection Joshua happened to piece as he searched for the finer details - Ye Soon was going for a dinner on her birthday, Macy was returning from a birthday party her friends had thrown her, Jason was going to meet his girlfriend to celebrate his birthday….. All ten of them had died on their birthday and not just that - all of their birthdays fell on the 30th of the month. 

And that was when the pieces clicked. Joshua arranged all ten cases according to a timeline, spanning from January this year to November. Every month on the 30th, right on their birthday, one victim had died and Joshua knew for a fact that this was a pattern because there was no victim in February - the only month without a 30th. 

This was an MO. This wasn’t the work of ten different killers. It was one. One serial killer.

The moment he realized this, he knew he should share it with his team, but for some reason, he couldn’t bring himself to. Perhaps it was because he knew the moment he revealed this discovery, all eyes would turn to one person—You.

And sure enough, the door slammed open and Ji Ho entered, a thick file in her hand. 

“I heard back from forensics.” She walked over, setting the papers on his table. “But you’re a brilliant detective Joshua, so you must have already figured this out.” 

“What?” Joshua sipped on his coffee, trying to appear nonchalant. 

“There were many different DNAs collected at the crime scenes, but one particular DNA was found at every single one.” 

Fuck. There it was.  His worst fear, out loud.

“This is clearly a serial killer Joshua.” When he didn’t meet her eye, she moved into his line of vision. “For heaven’s sake, why are you trying to protect her?” 

“Who?” Joshua shot back, his jaw tightening.

“Y/n.” She spoke through gritted teeth. “Please tell me you’re not being an infatuated fool-” 

“I’m not a fool.” 

“But you don’t deny the infatuation.” Ji Ho’s voice rose as she pointed at him. “I’ve seen you two over the last many days - you think I don’t recognise the way you look at her?” 

“Ji Ho, just because the two of us were once a thing and it didn’t work out-” 

“This isn’t about us!” She threw her hands in the air, frustration evident. “You know I’m more professional than that. This is about you. You saw a petite, pretty damsel in distress who told you a sob story and leaned on your shoulder and you decided to forget about everything sensible.” 

“You aren’t being sensible!” Joshua turned to face her, anger simmering. “Ji Ho, if Y/n was the killer why would she lead us to the bodies? Why would she try to implicate herself?” 

“You know how the brains of psychos work. They think they’re too smart, that they’ll never be caught.” Ji Ho crossed her arms. “This is just a game for her.” 

Joshua shook his head. “She’d have to be too dumb to expose herself like this. Using the paranormal to do it, don’t you think it’s too much?” 

“I knew you wouldn’t believe me.” Ji Ho let out a heavy breath. “So I did what I had to do. I called Y/n here.” 

He frowned. “Why?” 

“I took a sample of her hair without her knowledge and sent it to the lab.” Ji Ho took a step back, her eyes cold. “In a short while, we’ll know if that DNA matches hers… You’ll have your answers then.” 

“Ji Ho, this wasn’t my order—”

“I’m sorry but I don’t care, Josh.” She stopped her tracks by the door. “We might have been in love years ago, but I know what you are like. You’ll do anything to protect her and I cannot just sit back and watch you indulge in this stupidity.” 

“I’m none of your fucking concern!” Joshua’s voice rose in frustration as she walked out without another word. “Ji Ho, come back here, goddammit!”

Frustrated he slammed his hands on the table, the coffee cup toppling to the ground. It wasn’t like Joshua hadn’t thought of this possibility but this was his case to solve. He wanted to talk to you first, hear whatever it was from your mouth, not some cold DNA report.

Recalling Ji Ho say that you were here, Joshua bolted out of his room to the visitors lounge. There you were, sitting on the couch with your feet pulled up, flipping through a magazine while the sound of a Spanish telenovela played in the background. Annoyed by the noise, Joshua grabbed the remote and switched it off before walking toward you.

 In the sudden absence of the sound you looked up, eyes finding him, a smile spreading across your face as he sat beside you on the couch. Normally, Joshua wouldn’t sit so close to a witness—or take her hand in his—but you were different.

“Hi.” You whispered. “You look tense.” 

“How long have you been here?” 

“About half an hour,” You rubbed his arm comfortingly. “Ji Ho said you wanted to talk to me.” 

Joshua swallowed, his throat suddenly dry. “There’s been some progress in the case.”

You turned to him, curious. “Did you find any of the killers?” 

“Not exactly.” He shook his head. “I…I got a lead, though. Actually I’m not sure it’s much of a clue.” 

“What is it?” 

“All of them were killed on the 30th of the month.” He watched you closely, studying your face for any flicker of recognition, of guilt. “It seems like a pattern. Like this might be the work of one person.” 

“One person?” Your eyes widened. “You mean like a serial killer?”

Joshua nodded. 

“A serial killer who kills on the 30th of every month.” You muttered, lost in thought. “Why the 30th?” 

“I don’t know.” He shrugged, his voice tight. “Maybe they don’t like the number.”

“I won’t be surprised.” You pursed your lips. “I’ve never really liked the number 30 either. It’s like a deadline... something always looming, reminding you of the things you haven’t done. The things you can’t undo.”

Joshua blinked, trying to keep his expression neutral. Please, please, please, this can’t be true.

“But if I am right and if this is a pattern,.” He stared at their intertwined hands. “30th December is not far off and maybe they have another victim in their sight…. I need to find this killer soon.” 

“If it is a serial killer then this is much easier than we thought.” You reassured, turning towards him. “Think about it, isn’t it better to find one person than ten? And won’t all the evidence help you narrow down who the culprit is? All you have to do is something common amongst them all, right?”

Joshua nodded. Exactly. It was easy. Which meant it couldn’t have been you, could it? You wouldn’t have committed those crimes and then set up a trap for yourself would you? That made no sense. 

Or perhaps Joshua was refusing to see sense in it. Perhaps he was so drawn by you that he couldn’t bring himself to see reason. 

With each passing day, he had found his eyes lingering less over the crime scene and more over you. With each body being discovered, it was like the weight on your shoulders was lessening. You seemed more free, more at peace, more…..beautiful. Whenever your eyes met his, you began to smile. Whenever he rode his bike and you sat behind him, he felt his heart do a somersault in his chest. Just watching you walk into the station every morning made him feel a relief like no other.

Joshua had begun to like these small things. Your presence, your tiny quirks, the way you told stories, even though they were quite horrendous recounts, he liked how expressive your face was. He liked you. 

And it was evident you liked him too.

At first, Joshua thought you liked to be around him because you felt safe but slowly you began sitting closer to him than usual. You began following him on walks to survey perimeters, holding his hand when you tripped but not letting it go even when you were steady. He could tell by the way you looked at him - you felt the same thing he was feeling. That undeniable attraction, that magnetism. 

Except there was only one tiny thing between the two of you - you might be a potential murderer and Joshua might have to implicate you for your crimes. Which is why none of this could be true. You could not be the killer. 

But no sooner than he thought that, the door to the visitors room flung open making the two of you jump apart and Ji Ho stepped in, a thin file in her hand. 

“The results are back.” Her eyes flickered between both of you. “I’m sorry Josh but the DNA matches…. It’s her.” 

Joshua's heart dropped. The words echoed in his mind, and for a split second, the world seemed to stop.

It was you. You were the killer.

Joshua stood in the observation room, his eyes locked on you through the two-way mirror. 

You were slouched at the table, head low, your exhaustion palpable. The harsh light above cast long shadows across your face, making your features appear fragile and worn. Joshua’s heart tightened as he watched you. He longed to step in, to pull you close and promise that everything would be okay, but he couldn’t. He had to remain detached, professional—even though every instinct screamed to comfort you.

For the past three days, he had avoided entering the interrogation room, choosing instead to watch from the observation window, a silent witness to your suffering. He could see the strain in your eyes each time you pleaded for belief, for a chance to prove your innocence. Occasionally, you’d look towards him, and in those fleeting moments, it was as if you could see him right through the mirror. The desperate, pleading look you gave shattered something inside him—his resolve, his detachment. Every time, he felt that same arrow pierce his heart, and yet, he remained still, unable to intervene. Helpless.

His gaze flickered to Minho, who had just entered the room, pulling up his sleeves with the usual resolve. Joshua turned away from the mirror, his jaw tightening. He had to hold it together. He couldn’t let Minho see how he was unraveling inside.

“It’s my turn boss.” He glanced at Joshua. “Unless you want to?”

Joshua shook his head, sipping on his coffee. Minho sighed, pulling the door open and stepping in, catching you off guard with his sudden appearance. Joshua watched the man as he took a seat, settling the files on the table before you. 

“Where’s Joshua?” You asked, your eyes flickering toward the door expectantly.

“I’ll ask the questions Miss.Y/n.” Minho cleared his throat a little too loudly.

“For the last time,” You sighed. “I did not do it. I am not the killer-” 

“I’m not suggesting you are the killer Miss Y/n.” He pushed the file towards you. “I simply want you to explain why your DNA has been found on all ten sites.” 

“I’ve already told you,” you leaned back in your chair, frustration evident in your voice. “When the spirits first talked to me, I went to some of those locations to make sure I wasn’t losing my mind. How many times do I have to repeat myself?”

“You mentioned you went to-” He flipped through the papers “-four sites. Then how was your DNA found at all ten?” 

“Maybe because I was the one who led you to those locations,” you shot back, crossing your arms.

“Are you suggesting we are stupid enough to mess up the sample collection?” Minho’s voice grew colder. “That we sat back and let you contaminate those crime scenes?”

“Then are you suggesting that I am stupid enough to commit ten murders and walk into a station and implicate myself?”  you retorted.

Minho leaned back, narrowing his eyes.“I don’t know Miss Y/n. I’m looking for you to give me the answers.” 

“For god’s sake!” You slammed your palm onto the table, frustration boiling over. “If you think I’m going to cave to this tortuous questioning and admit to something I didn’t do, you’re wrong. I. Didn’t. Do. It.” 

“But you could have helped the killer.” Minho shrugged. “The sentence for an accomplice to murder is less severe Miss Y/n, if you admit to it, we can help you-” 

“I don’t need your help because I did not do this.” You glanced at the mirror,your eyes locking with Joshua’s yet again. “I made a mistake coming here thinking you could help me, you’d help them. But now I am being held here, blamed for something I didn’t do.” 

Joshua’s grip on his coffee tightened, his gaze sliding away from you. He had nothing to say.

Minho exhaled sharply. “Miss Y/n, you are being held because the evidence clearly points at you-” 

“Or maybe I’m here because you need a scapegoat to take the fall.” you interrupted, voice dripping with bitterness.

Surprised, Joshua straightened out. 

“I heard six of these cases were in fact missing people that your team hadn’t been able to find in months.” you continued, your tone mocking. “Convenient isn’t it, to blame it all on the only other person involved in the uncovering of the crime scene? A nice, easy way to wrap this up neatly.” 

“Are you implying that one of us manipulated the evidence to make it look like you’re the killer?” Minho snapped.

“I didn’t say that,” you tilted your head, your gaze sharp. “But you seem to be admitting to it.”

“Miss Y/n, don’t twist my words….” 

But there was no need to. 

Joshua took a step back, mind running through the possibilities. About who might have such a motive, who might have manipulated the evidence…..

There was only one person who popped in his mind. Someone who was as driven as him to solve these cases. Someone who didn’t want to be a part of the investigation but had joined regardless. Someone who could possibly benefit from trapping you in this case. 

Ji Ho. 

Joshua knew his ex girlfriend well enough to dismiss this possibility of her involvement. It was the reason the two of them had broken up - She was incredibly competitive, she never seemed to remember the relationship the two of them shared when they were in a professional space, she was never happy for him, never acknowledged his achievements.

But that did not mean there was no passion between them outside the walls of the precinct. God they were wild and couldn’t keep their hands and eyes off each other. Things were fine till whatever happened at work stayed at work, but the more Joshua became successful in his career, Ji Ho started bringing her professional grievances home, between them. The suffocation her competitiveness brought forth was what stifled their bond - Joshua couldn’t live with it any longer. 

But maybe, now that he thought about it, this situation allowed her to kill two birds with one stone - on one hand, the cases termed nearly impossible could finally be closed and on the other, you, his new person of interest would be out of the way. Joshua saw the way Ji Ho looked at the two of you, like she didn’t like it one bit - her incriminating you wasn’t exactly impossible. When she had secretly taken a sample of your hair to cross verify with the identified DNA, who’s to say she didn’t plant the other evidence the same way? 

Grabbing his pager from the table, he gave you one last glance before pulling the door open, setting off to look for the woman in question. He had to act fast. He needed to find out if Ji Ho was involved. 

Thankfully he didn’t have to look far, she was right at the visitors room, remote in her hand, watching the same Spanish telenovela that had been perpetually on the station’s TV for months.

“Ji Ho-” Joshua called out.

“Shh,” she raised a hand to silence him, keeping her eyes on the screen. “I’m watching.”

“Is that more important than what’s happening with Y/n-” 

“Honestly? Yeah,” she replied without missing a beat, her tone flippant. “This is actually what helped save her.”

Joshua stared at her, bewildered. “What do you mean, ‘save her’?”

“I think she’s innocent,” Ji Ho said, finally turning to face him.

All points of argument that Joshua had come up with died in his mind. What? 

“You do? You believe she’s innocent?” He placed himself right before the screen. “You were the one who was so sure she did it-” 

“I simply believed the evidence that came up.” She rolled her eyes. “But unlike you, I don’t let my emotions rule over practicality.” 

“I did not-” 

“I know you Josh, I know something is wrong. Your judgement has been clouded for days, you’re not thinking straight. But I am.” She crossed her arms, taking a deep breath. “I knew we needed more irrefutable evidence and most importantly, we needed a motive so I had been looking and asking around. Turns out she has an alibi.” 

“What kind of alibi?” 

“The people at the store confirmed that a few weeks back she had run in, scared and shaking, claiming she was followed. The neighbours also said that she had approached them for help a few times but they didn't see anyone.” 

“Didn't you say that she might have done all that to make her story more convincing?”

“Yes but,” Ji Ho bit her lower lip hesitating. “I also broke into her house-” 

“You what??” 

“-and I found her passport and a couple of other things that prove she wasn't even in town when three or four of those murders happened, the timelines don't match.”

 “So it might not be her?” Joshua let out an inward sigh of relief. “Then… then what about the DNA?” 

“Precisely.” Ji Ho nodded, gesturing him to turn around. “Watch this.” 

Frowning Joshua did, eyes falling on the tv screen. He wasn't really familiar with this show, the only reason he had ever watched it was because Ji Ho was obsessed with it. He did remember this particular part of the plot though - everyone thought Maria was the mother of Lizzy but it was actually her twin, Gloria. 

Twin?.....

“Identical twins have the exact same DNA.” Ji Ho muted the show as his mind raced with the possibilities. “Do you know if Y/n has a twin?”

Joshua shook his head. He didn't ask much about your family or personal life, he didn't really find the chance to have such a conversation but if there was even a possibility….

Rushing out, Joshua barged into the interrogation room where Minho was still badgering you with his questions. 

“Joshua….” You looked up at him, eyes widening. For the first time in days, you saw something other than apology in his eyes. You clung to that look, hoping it meant he was still on your side. Ji Ho followed him, walking into the room right behind, earning a small frown from you. 

“Y/n,” Watching Joshua unable to say anything she walked up, shoving her hands in her pockets. “There's something important we need to know.” 

“What is it?” You continued to look at Joshua who simply nodded softly, signalling you not to worry. 

“Do you happen to have a twin? An identical one?”

Blinking rapidly, you hesitated. “I…. I do, yeah, why?” 

Joshua and Ji Ho exchanged looks. Fuck. 

“Where is she?”

“I- I don't know. We both grew up at the St. Mary orphanage. At around the age of eight, she was adopted. The family didn't want two kids so they only took her in. Few months later I was adopted by a different family so we haven't really seen each other or even heard from each other since then.” Your eyes flickered between both the officers. “Why? What happened?” 

Thank god. Thank fucking god. 

Joshua let out the breath he was holding, shutting his eyes briefly out of relief. 

Ji Ho, who looked both guilty and curious, stepped closer to you. “So you don’t know where she is right now?” 

You shook your head, “But I know she's a Mayor's daughter, I don't remember for which town though.” 

Nodding at Joshua, Ji Ho whispered something into Minho's ears before the two of them hurriedly left the room. Standing up confused, your eyes followed them as Joshua neared you. 

“Joshua what's happening?” 

He didn't say anything, just simply pulled you into a hug, finally feeling your warmth again as you wrapped your arms around his waist. 

“You'll be fine.” He held onto you tighter. “I'm not going to let anything happen to you.” 

Joshua watched you fast sleep on the couch of the visitor’s lounge. 

Curled up, with your hair spilling over your face like a dark veil, you looked peaceful, untouched by the weight of the world. As much as Joshua longed to slip in beside you and to hold you as you slept, he knew better. He had to maintain some distance. The team had already been giving him looks whenever you stood too close to him, leaning over case files, working through the details of the investigation. At least the pity and disdain in their eyes had faded—now that you were cleared, they saw you as less of a suspect. 

Ji Ho, ever the efficient one, had tracked down your twin just a few days ago. She had been found in a town several hours away, barely conscious, dragged into the precinct with the sour smell of alcohol still clinging to her. Standing beside Joshua, you watched your twin in the interrogation room, hungover and dazed, trying to make sense of the evidence mounting against her. Though you hadn’t spoken in years, the ache in your chest was unmistakable. You didn’t want to believe it was her but even after sobering up when she failed to provide any alibi, the truth was undeniable.

Her neighbors, friends, and even family all corroborated the fact that she had fallen deep into drugs, her life spiraling out of control. The last few months had turned her into someone unrecognizable—violent, unpredictable and uncontrollable. No one could vouch for her whereabouts during the killings either and as the investigation wore on, the evidence stacked up against her, leaving little room for doubt. In the end, she was arrested, the case moving forward to court where she was to be prosecuted for her crimes. 

Today was your final day at the station—just a few papers to sign, a final nod to close the investigation. After this, the case would be officially closed and the two of you would not be bound by the investigation anymore - there was no obligation to see each other. 

“You know,” Ji Ho’s voice broke the silence, pulling Joshua out of his thoughts, “just because the case is over doesn’t mean you won’t get to see her.”

Joshua turned to see her standing in the doorway, arms crossed, leaning casually against the frame.

“I know.” He muttered, feeling a familiar pang in his chest. “But how do you always know what I’m thinking?”

She chuckled, stepping into the room. “Because I know you, Joshua. Better than anyone. I just wish you knew me too. I wish you knew me better. I would never incriminate someone out of pettiness.”

He winced, guilt tugging at him. “I’m sorry. I guess I was just ready to believe anything that meant Y/n was innocent.”

Ji Ho glanced at you. “Well, you don't have to worry about that anymore. She is innocent. “ 

“Thanks to you.” He smiled, looking at you slightly shifting in your sleep, mouth now slightly open as you continued to doze off. “She would have still been a suspect if not for your brilliance.” 

“Nah.” Ji Ho waved her hand, dismissing his words. “I only did what I had to, it's my job. But what's really amazing is you cracked the cases Joshua, the ones no one could solve for months. I heard the promotion letter is on the way.” 

“It should have been yours Ji Ho.” Staring at the ground Joshua shifted uncomfortably, refusing to meet her eyes. He couldn't bring himself to. “I know how much you wanted this too, and I… I don’t understand why you gave all the credit to me.”

Ji Ho sighed, her gaze distant. “I did want it. But I felt like you deserved it more, especially for all that I put you through the last many days.” 

“So this is out of pity?” 

“It's out of admiration.” She corrected. “I don't know if I would have been able to keep my calm the way you did when Y/n was being accused. You put your job above everything, you were the one who figured out the killer's MO, you were the driving force of this investigation. It's only right that you go up the ranks.” She then paused as though she was unsure if she should continue. “You can also think of it as an early birthday present from me.” 

Joshua glanced at the calendar, the black rimmed circle placed over 29th December. His birthday was tomorrow. Here he was, too wrapped up in all this to even remember but of course Ji Ho did. Even after all that happened, she remembered. 

“Thanks,” he muttered, trying to mask the sudden rush of gratitude. Before he could say more, his gaze shifted back to you. You were beginning to stir, shifting on the couch, their voices perhaps pulling you from your slumber.

Ji Ho noticed it too, and with a small nod, she tucked her hands in her pockets and began to back out of the room. “I should go. You and Y/n should have a nice celebration tomorrow, okay?”

Joshua smiled, not entirely convinced as she disappeared into the buzz of the busy office. Was he really worthy of a celebration though? Even though the six biggest problems of his life had been solved giving him the promotion he wanted more than anything, Joshua didn't quite find himself fully relieved. It was as though there was something he still wasn't seeing. 

When you finally raised your head, blinking sleepily, Joshua pushed all his conflicting thoughts aside. Right now, only you mattered.

“Morning sunshine.” He smiled softly, voice light.

You glanced at the window, then at the clock. “It's 6pm Joshua.” 

“Yes but you've been sleeping like it's the dead of the night.” 

“Can you blame me?” You yawned. “For the first time in days, I'm able to sleep without thinking about somebody constantly watching me.” When Joshua looked confused, you sat up, crossing your legs. “The spirits, Joshua.” 

“They're gone?” 

“I haven't seen much of them the last few days, ever since she was brought in…..” You trailed off, your gaze flickering down to your restless hands. “I guess they've gotten the justice they're looking for.” 

“I'd have thought they'd stick around at least till the trial.” Joshua looked thoughtful. “She's the Mayor's daughter. What if she buys her way out of this?” 

“I don't know.” You shrugged. “I know her background might allow her to escape this unscathed but I hope not. Perpetrators deserve to be punished.” 

Something about your words stung Joshua differently. Indeed, the perpetrator should be punished, but for that, it was necessary to find the real culprit. A tiny voice in his head was making him doubt his choice. 

“I thought twins were naturally very protective of one another.” He glanced at you carefully. “You seem okay with whatever is happening to your sister.” 

You looked at him incredulously. “Of course I'm upset but you know what she did. I'm not emotionally attached to her because we barely know anything about each other but even if I was, do you think someone who killed so many people deserves to walk freely? The spirits trusted me to ensure they got justice Joshua, how can I let their murderer not face any consequences?” 

Joshua stared at the wall behind you, mind racing to the time it all began with you walking into the station. Your claim about spirits only you could see, all ten spirits being unaware of their killer yet all ten of them conveniently being killed by the same person. Your knowledge of all the crime sites, finding your DNA in every single one. You happening to have a twin sister who, in contrast to your perfect alibis, didn't have any. It was all too easy - was it a lucky coincidence that the spirits found the estranged twin of their perpetrator to be their yielder of justice? Or had he in fact caught the wrong sister…..Joshua felt a chill run down his spine. Somehow, it didn't seem like this case was over - there was clearly more to it. 

He turned his attention back to you, gulping when he realised you were studying his zoned out expression intently. 

“What is it?” You raised an eyebrow. “What are you thinking?” 

“Just…” He cleared his throat. “I wanted to come over and get my jacket back but I realised I didn't even know where you lived.” 

You cocked your head at him, a knowing expression on your face. “I told you - Once you give it to me, I won’t return it if you ask.” 

“Right.” Joshua chuckled, though it didn’t reach his eyes. 

Fuck. This was his one shot to confirm the truth before it was too late. Twins might look identical and even have the same DNA but their fingerprints? Fingerprints were unique even among twins and Joshua wanted to get his hands on yours. His jacket being a leather one would have been an easy way to obtain them but now, he had to think of something else.

“I was thinking, do you want to maybe go out and get dinner today?” He looked at you feigning casualness he was not feeling. “We've never really gotten the chance to do anything outside the precinct, I thought we could spend some time….”

You shook your head softly, a small, apologetic smile playing at your lips as you got up. “Not tonight. I have something I need to do.”

“Something more important than me?” He smiled half-heartedly, trying to mask the hurt. “Than us?” 

Laughing softly you walked up to him, hands clasped behind your hand as you leaned in and placed a soft kiss on his cheek. “I'll be seeing you tomorrow anyway, birthday boy.”

Joshua watched as you slowly pulled away from him and began to leave, the lightness of your kiss still lingering on his skin. It didn’t feel like an intimate gesture, more like a goodbye, a farewell to something unspoken.

He stood frozen, entangled in his web of thoughts, unsure of what to do with himself. But when the moment passed, he made up his mind. - he couldn’t wait any longer. He had to know the truth.

Rushing towards Ji Ho’s cubicle, his heart pounding in his chest, he called out to her breathlessly. 

“You said you broke into Y/n’s place, right?”

Her eyes widened, surprised by his urgency. She nodded.

“I need you to give me the address.”

Joshua slowly pushed the door of your house, both surprised and thankful it was unlocked. 

He had been hiding in the bushes for over an hour now, watching you move around through the glass of the window. About ten minutes ago, you had donned his jacket, pulled your hair into a high ponytail and left the house, walking into the dead of the night. Joshua glanced at his watch - it was 11pm and he had no idea what kind of business you had set off to do. Now that he thought about it, Joshua didn’t know anything about you at all - why then was he so enthralled by you?

He had to snap out of it. He was here to find the truth and that’s what he was going to do. When he was finally convinced that you weren’t returning to grab something you might have forgotten, Joshua mustered his courage and stepped carefully into the dimly lit house, his heartbeat quickening with each creak of the floorboard beneath his shoes. This was the only chance he might have to explore your space, your sanctuary, see who you were outside that mask of affection you always wore when they were together. He knew it was dangerous and reckless, but he had to be sure. 

The house was quiet. Too quiet. It smelled faintly of lavender, mixed with a subtle undertone of something he couldn’t quite place. He moved through the living room, avoiding the clutter of half-empty cups and newspapers, scanning for anything that might give him a clue. The space looked like it hadn’t been cared for in a while, like you hadn’t been home for a long time. Joshua made mental notes of everything as he walked in, his feet taking him around like he had been here a hundred times already. 

It was only when he tripped over the rug that his tracks stopped, prompting him to look at the cause of his near fall - A loose floorboard. Frowning he crouched down and pried it loose, the cool edge of the tile slipping from its mortar with a slight scrape. Underneath, hidden in the narrow compartment, was a small wooden box, its surface worn with time. Turning it in his hands, Joshua pried it open.

Photographs. 

Hundreds of photographs of you. 

No, not you… you didn’t dress in designer wear, drink expensive champagne or drive in a Rolls Royce. This was your sister. 

You had uncountable photographs of her, carefully taken and meticulously arranged. She looked young in some of them and much older in others. Some were clearly taken from a distance while others seemed more intimate, like they’d been taken while she was unaware….. You had been stalking her.

From the looks of it, you had been keeping an eye on her for years, watching her every move. Joshua’s stomach churned, a new sense of unease settling over him. You said you hadn’t seen her in years - you lied. 

Spreading them out on the cold floor, he flipped through them, realising that everyone was right about her - she had an affinity to party and indulge in drugs, often blacking out in the middle of nowhere. But he also realised that she in fact, had an alibi…. A couple of dates on these photos were on the 30th… she couldn’t have possibly been the killer. 

And more importantly, you knew that. If you had taken these pictures, you knew your sister was innocent - yet you watched her be put away behind the bars. 

Fuck. 

This was a terrible mistake. 

Quickly moving, Joshua grabbed the relevant photos - Ji Ho had to see this, the whole team had to see this. But before he could smoothly stash them away in his pocket, he heard the familiar creak of the floorboard at the entrance. You were back. 

Joshua’s breath hitched as the soft footfall of your steps echoed through the quiet room, getting louder and louder by the minute. Panicking, he quickly stuffed everything back in the box, shoved it back into its hidden compartment and placed the floorboard back in place, pretending like nothing had happened.

Just as he stood up, turning towards the sound, his eyes fell on your figure lingering by the large wooden arch, watching him intensely. Slowly, almost deliberately, you closed the distance in between, eyes not leaving him, not blinking. Joshua tensed, his body stiffening with a mix of fear and anticipation. And when you reached him, you didn’t speak - merely tilted your head, your eyes searching his face as if reading something he didn’t want you to see.

Then, without warning, curling your fingers around his collar, pulling him closer, you kissed him. 

Your lips pressed against his, tenderly but also carrying an undeniable weight. Joshua's body froze for a moment, completely caught off guard by the intensity of it, the subtle brush of your lips conveying something far deeper than simple affection. Your hands moved, one sliding up to his neck, the other tangling in his hair, and for a brief second, Joshua forgot himself. His hand cupped your face, as he pushed you back against the wall, kissing you passionately, like he was a hungry man, finally being fed. You moaned as the heat swelled between the pressed bodies, both of you powerless to the undeniable attraction between the two of you. 

Finally, you pulled away, just a fraction, your breath warm on his lips, and in that silence, you softly bit your lower lip, looking at him with big, lust blown eyes. 

"Did I play my part well, Shua?"

Joshua’s heart stuttered in his chest, his breath slowing down, eyes fixed on you. 

And then he cocked his head and gave a short nod.

At last, at fucking last, Joshua allowed the mask to crack, a small, victorious smile dancing on his face. The smile that had once been charming and controlled, faltered at the edges, now that he had come face to face with the full scope of the story he had spun. The facade he worked so hard to maintain, the calculated version of himself that had held the reins of this twisted game, finally slipped away. 

Dragging his hand down from your cheek, he wrapped it around your throat, pulling you closer, angling your face up, pressing contrastingly soft kisses along your jaw. You sighed happily despite struggling to breathe, eyes rolling back as you grabbed his wrist, not to pull his choking hand away, but to hold it in place. Fuck. He loved that you loved this. 

“You did great, baby.” He whispered into your ear. “You did so so well.” 

“A…” He loosened his grip when you failed to speak. “Aren’t you going to reward me then?” 

“Of course I am.” He pulled back, fully letting you go, supposedly to allow you to breathe again. But before you could, hand on your head, he pushed you down, forcing you onto your knees. As you quickly stripped out of his favourite jacket, placing it under you to cushion you from the cold floorboard, he unbuttoned his pants, getting ready for your mouth, his favourite place to be. Within seconds, you took over, pulling his pants down and his dick out, spitting in your hand before stroking it slowly. Joshua slapped your hand away and slipped his thumb between your lips prying your mouth open as he pushed his dick into your mouth. 

“Fuck,” He threw his head back. He had missed this warmth of you, wrapped around him. “That’s it baby, that feels fucking good.”

Pleased with yourself, you hummed around his girth and without a warning, his hand finding the back of your head, Joshua pushed himself further in, your sound of surprise lost in your throat. You didn’t struggle too hard to take him all the way in, afterall, Joshua had been here a hundred times already. When he noticed you were running out of breath, he pushed himself just a little further before completely pulling out, throwing you into a coughing fit. Looking at you disappointedly, he shook his head, 

“You can do better baby.” He tilted your face up. “Don’t you want to do better for me?” 

Nodding eagerly, you took him in your mouth again, bobbing your head around his length just the way he liked it, just the way he had trained you to pleasure him. Without him even needing to say it, you clasped your hands behind you, only your mouth working vigorously, alternating between blowing him fast and letting him deep in your throat. Grinning at you, Joshua wrapped your ponytail around his hand, jerking his hips forward to match your pace, finding his orgasm building in him much sooner than usual. 

Of course it did. Joshua was unusually happy today - afterall, everything he intended went according to plan. He had supposedly solved all six of those never ending missing cases, he had secured his promotion and no one even found out that he was the real killer. 

Throwing his head back, he groaned as you skillfully let him so deep in, your nose nearly touching his groin, your face reddening. Dragging you off his cock, he looked down at you impressed, receiving your fucked out expression in return - eyes blown, drool leaking from the corners of your lips, mouth still open, waiting for more. Chucking, he stroked himself. 

“Strip.” 

And you did, pulling your gown over your head, tossing it somewhere far. Then you unclasped your bra, your perfect boobs spilling out of the cups as Joshua felt his mouth water from the sight of it. He had missed them so bad and by the end of tonight, he was going to irrevocably mark them as his. When you looked at him questioningly about taking off your underwear, he shook his head and pushed you against the wall by your shoulders, the back of your head softly hitting the concrete. Knowing what he was going to do next, you obediently stilled as he held your face with both his hands and, god did he fuck it like there was no tomorrow. 

This was what Joshua loved about you the most - you never complained. Anything he gave, you took it oh so well, beyond his expectations, always proving just how devoted you were to him. That was why he was able to use you as the perfect instrument to orchestrate his scheme. Without you, there was no way he would have been able to secure that promotion and get out of this town. 

He had committed too many crimes here, lingered for too long and if he had spent any longer, he knew the chances of him being caught were high. Although he was meticulous in choosing his victims and ensured they had no family or friends to notice their absence, six out of ten of them had landed on his table regardless. Just looking at the case files annoyed him. How the fuck was he supposed to get promoted if solving the very crimes he committed was the only way to deem him worthy? That meant Joshua needed someone else to take the fall, he needed a scapegoat and a story. 

And that’s what everything so far was. Joshua spun an unimaginable, unbelievable story and centered it around you, his main character. He made you a meek, scared and vulnerable woman, just the kind that good old officer Hong would fall for while he himself played a well crafted role - a man tired of unsolvable cases finding his last ray of hope in a woman he happened to fall for. Being a part of a moral battle, guilt tripping his ex-girlfriend into handing him the promotion and coming out of all this with his love being victorious was just the icing on the cake. It was actually all too easy - the accurate decoding of his team’s psyche was what drove the whole plot. 

He knew most of them were highly superstitious and the idea of spirits would terrify them enough to believe your tale. Although the idea of spirits was absurd and haunting, in a small town like this a touch of the supernatural was precisely what was required to get everyone on the edge, to make coincidences believable, to make the unreal seem real. He knew you wouldn’t mess this up - he spent hours telling you about each victim, making you memorise their appearances, their habits, their stories. He trusted you to do a good job, but it was Ji Ho who was the wild card, the one he had taken a risk with. 

Joshua knew Ji Ho being the realist that she was, would never believe the idea of ghosts and would look only for solid facts and evidence. That’s why he had very meticulously planted your DNA in all ten sites, well aware that his ex-girlfriend would immediately suspect you. He wasn’t trying to trap you, no no, you were his favourite doll - he just needed to somehow introduce the twin twist, his most brilliant plot point. 

Joshua was also well aware of Ji Ho's addiction to that stupid Spanish show - it was only a matter of time before she had a lightbulb moment and considered the idea of you having a twin. From there, it was a cake walk - he had already spent months ensuring your sister did not have significant alibis. Thanks to her drug addiction, she was already naturally sketchy, often aloof and most importantly, frequently unaware of her actions and locations. With the deletion of a few CCTV footages, and ripping up some parking tickets and restaurant bills, Joshua had made sure she had no solid evidence to back her innocence. Her being found in a state too far gone to vouch for the truth was no coincidence too - he had been secretly supplying her with stronger than usual doses of drugs for a while now.

And that’s how things went down exactly like he planned - an innocent person was sitting in jail, waiting to be tried for crimes she didn’t commit while here he was, promoted, free and fucking the mouth of the woman undeniably devoted to him. 

Joshua focused his gaze on you, tears running down your cheek, the back of your throat most definitely bruised but you didn't ask him to stop. Instead you contracted your throat around him, drawing out those tell tale groans as he felt himself nearing his high. With a swift movement he let you go and pulled himself out, jerking himself hard as you waited for him patiently, mouth hanging open. The moment you stuck your tongue out desperately, Joshua came, spurts out white coating your tongue, spilling out of the corner of your mouth, down to your boobs. His chest heaved, much like yours, as he took a step back, letting go his softened length as he glanced at you. His masterpiece, the queen on his chessboard. 

Slowly walking back he pulled up a chair, kicking his pants off before settling down on it. He wanted to pause this, let you catch your breath but the ironic thing was, you yourself didn't want to stop. Getting ready to crawl to him, you leaned forward but Joshua shook his head.

“Take a minute baby.” 

You pouted. “I don't want to.” 

“I know but I need to.” He chuckled, looking pointedly at his currently semi hard length. “Do you want to play with yourself till then?” 

Nodding eagerly, you rested back against the wall, spreading your legs out wide, displaying your nearly soaked underwear for him to see. Fuck. Was that how wet you were from just sucking him off? Joshua bet he would slide all the way in with ease and god did he want to. But he could wait - he had all night to wreck you. 

Raising your hips slightly, you pulled your panties, dragging it down your leg, tossing it to join the rest of your clothes. Sucking two fingers, you slid them along the folds, rubbing and spreading them, soft moans leaving your mouth. Joshua could already feel the blood rush down to his dick again. But not yet, he wanted to savour this sight first. 

He watched as you reached for your clit, putting some much needed pressure on it as your head fell back, breath getting shaky and ragged as the feeling built in you. Your free hand found your boobs, squeezing it hard, the remnants of Joshua's cum smearing filthily. The man almost gave in, ready to rail you into tomorrow when coincidentally, the chime of the clock echoed in the room, indicating it was midnight. 

You stopped moving, eyes glancing at the clock before turning to him, lips breaking into a sweet smile. 

“Happy birthday Shua.”

Cocking his head at you, Joshua returned your smile. 

“Happy birthday to you too sweetheart.”

The two of you sharing birthdays, Joshua didn't know whether to call it fate or a lucky coincidence but it was this similarity that drove the entire plot. It all started 4 months ago when he was looking for his next set of victims. He had just finished up with that old woman, Ye Soon, and frankly, all his targets were getting incredibly easy, serving him no excitement, no thrill. 

He had stopped by at the gas station one day, hopping over to the store to buy a pack of gum when he overheard a bunch of young women chattering away about how the end of the year was packed with back to back parties - first with the Mayor's daughters birthday on the 30th, then new years on the 31st. Joshua had smiled to himself. What a perfect way to end the year indeed - a significant figure like the Mayor's daughter would definitely raise the stakes. Oh it would be so fun. 

And fun it was. 

The Mayor's daughter was a beautiful girl and stalking her was more exciting than Joshua anticipated. He didn't think it would be this easy to follow her around but she had an affinity for running away and falling in trouble. Oh she was perfect. But that was something else that was a little more interesting than the silly shenanigans she was up to - Joshua wasn't her only stalker, you were too.  

At first, Joshua thought his eyes were playing tricks. The two of you were strikingly similar, but as far as he knew, the Mayor only had one daughter, not twins. Upon throwing himself into a little more research, Joshua found out about how the two of you grew up in an orphanage but were adopted into different families and to his luck, you were actually a part of his town. Something told him having you on his side might just make all the difference.  

So he began with meeting you almost regularly at the bee farm you worked in. Not many people dropped by there given the bees were quite terrifying but those tiny things were nothing for Joshua, he had bigger things to focus on. Given he was the only person you saw nearly everyday, a friendship began blossoming between the two of you and you slowly started opening up to him, telling him about your life. About how you hated your sister, how you were the one the Mayor wanted to adopt but she had locked you in the storeroom while she took your place and left to live a life full of luxuries. You on the other hand were taken in by two farmers who were negligent, unbothered and died very early in your life in a car crash. Since then you grew up isolated, constantly looking at your sister's life bitterly, knowing that it should have been yours. 

Joshua's joy knew no bounds when he discovered the tumultuous relationship between you sisters. Oh this could be his most elaborate scheme yet, so many birds to hit with one stone. But the first and most important thing he needed for that was for you to be irrevocably in love with him. 

Surprisingly, that was the easiest part. All it took was some praise, some attention and a few sessions of love making - within a month, you were ready to do or die for him. Then all he did was feed you his sorrows - talk about how he wasn't getting a promotion because his ridiculous ex was interfering in his workplace, about how he needed to do something exemplary to climb the ranks. That's how he had convinced you to do this stint - you promised you'd go to any extent for him and in exchange, Joshua promised you revenge. This was your chance to get back at your sister for ruining your life. 

You did however keep asking him who the real killer was. Joshua knew you were head over heels for him, but he wasn't sure if you'd really stick through something as dark as his past. He didn't want to take the chance before his plan came to fruition. But now as he observed you looking up at him with earnest eyes as you fingered yourself, he wondered if you were ready to know more. Sure you listened to everything he said, going faster when he instructed you, stopping when he asked you to, even though you were almost about to cum, you loved him enough to listen. But was it enough to handle more?

He could find out about that later, right now he had enough of looking at you pleasuring yourself, he needed to be inside you urgently. 

“Come here.” 

Standing up immediately, you walked over to him as Joshua fixed his eyes between your legs, at the arousal dripping down your inner thigh. Using your own fingers, he collected your release, slipping them into his mouth, relishing the taste of you. No matter how many times he had eaten you out and made you scream on his tongue, every time felt heavenly. 

Grabbing you by the thighs he pulled you closer and you already knew what you had to do. Turning around, you leaned back against him, grabbing his dick from behind and aligning it with your wanting hole before sinking down on it slowly. 

“It doesn't matter how many times I fuck you.” Joshua groaned, relishing the way your walls fluttered around him. “You're still so tight.” 

You didn't say anything in response, it didn't seem like you could, not with his dick so far in you. 

“Fuck yourself on me baby.” He whispered, his grip on your waist bruisingly tight. “This is your reward.” 

Muttering a string of thank yous, you began moving, rotating and rocking your hips, wantonly squeezing him tight. Joshua knew you were trying to reach for those sensitive spots so he let you, biting and sucking on the soft skin of your shoulder instead, leaving a trail of red. When you began clamping around him unbelievably tightly, he landed a warning smack on your ass.

“Move.”

And you did, bouncing up and down his length vigorously, pouring your everything into it, loud moans tumbling out of your mouth. Squeezing your boob hard, he trailed his hand up your chest, wrapping it around your neck, holding you against him while his other hand found your clit, drawing figure eights. It didn't take you much to fall apart around him considering you had already fucked yourself on your fingers for a while. Joshua could feel your arousal dripping down his length as he continued to thrust his length up. 

“Sensitive…” You whined, holding his hand tight, when he just wouldn't stop. “Shua please…” 

“Shh.” He muttered, pushing you off him much to your surprise before getting up himself and throwing you onto the chair instead, your knees on the seat as your hands held the backrest. Joshua stripped out of his shirt tossing it aside before he smacked you again hard, thrusting himself much deeper inside. 

“Fuck, shua….it's too much.” You nearly cried as he began to snap his hips into you, your orgasm blending into another one. 

“Come on baby.” He softly nibbled on your ear in complete contrast to how roughly he was pounding into you. “Don't I deserve a gift too?”  

You didn't complain after that, only graphic moans and whines escaping your lips. This was the best birthday he could have asked for - here he was finally fucking you after so many days and there, your sister, his final victim was taking her last breath. 

Joshua thought it was rather beautiful, the way it all came to an end. He knew your sister couldn't go more than a few hours without her usual drugs so he had made sure she had access to a little secret stash that she could sniff on when no one was looking. Little did she know, Joshua had poisoned it. 

Not only that, he had also managed to slip a thin folded paper into her pants just before she was thrown in the cell. It read that she was guilty for all ten crimes and was incredibly repentful - she didn't think she deserved to live. That was his final victim of the year - another death on the 30th, another death on their birthday. 

There was no particular reason why Joshua picked this date or why it had to be their birthday - he simply wanted to create a pattern, see if anyone could crack it, if anyone was smarter than him. So far, it seemed like nobody was even close. Perhaps, only after he died and as per requested in his will, if his diary was published as a book, would people know exactly what he was capable of. For now, he alone revelled in and celebrated his intelligence. Maybe you if you were strong enough for it. 

Perhaps not, Joshua wondered as he glanced at you, sound slowly reducing as you inched closer to passing out. Gripping your hips tighter he began fucking you harder and faster, pushing himself to finish before you blacked out. Recognising his pace becoming erratic as he neared his climax, you looked over your shoulder. 

“I haven't been taking the pill for a while Shua…” 

He groaned, not stopping his thrusts. “You know how much I love cumming inside you.” 

“Shua please…” You could barely manage to beg him to stop. Your body had been pushed beyond its limit. 

Owing to your silence, he groaned, jerking his hips, once, then again and then he came, white coating your walls as he emptied himself into you. You fell forward, spent and exhausted as Joshua pulled out, watching his cum drip out of you. 

Fuck. You were perfect. 

This was perfect. 

Everything was perfect. 

It was probably the wee hours of the morning when you woke up, your throat hurting and dry. You rolled your head to the side finding Joshua fast asleep beside you on the bed. He had dragged you here for round two, fucking you into oblivion before moving to round three where he slowly made love, dumping load after load in you. Thankfully, he cleaned you up before sleeping - you had passed out the moment the two of you were done. 

You slipped out of the bed slowly so as to not disturb him, desperate for a glass of water. Stretching, you grabbed the spare blanket and wrapped it around your naked body. Struggling to walk thanks to how sore you were all over you made your way to the kitchen, flipping the switches and bit back a scream. 

Stranding by the counter was an old woman, leaning against it, looking at you like she was waiting for you. Instinctively you grabbed a knife from the nearby drawer, pointing it at her threateningly. 

“W-who are you? And what-” 

“You know who I am.” She said, straightening and stepping closer to the window. Your eyes widened. That was impossible - it was as though the moonlight was passing through her. You ran your eyes over her features. She had white hair, her back was bent weirdly, there was a burn mark on her hand….. Ye Soon. 

“Oh Y/n,” She took a step forward. “Don't you want to know who the actual killer is?” 

You continued to stare, jaw slightly hung, still unable to fathom what was happening. The spirits were a story the two of you had spun, how could it be…

“Who are you talking to?”

You turned around sharply at the sound of Joshua’s voice. He walked out, dressed in his pants, rubbing his eyes as he looked at you confused. 

He couldn't see Ye Soon. 

“You wanted to know the killer didn't you?” The old woman's voice was right by your ear. “Look, there he is.” 

Your eyes widened, grip on the knife tightening as you stared at the man before you wordlessly. Joshua frowned, his eyes flickering between the knife and you as his eyes narrowed. 

Outside, the loud sirens of the ambulance heading towards the precinct resounded in the otherwise quiet town. It seems the story of the Calendar Killer had finally come to an end.

A/n - If you have made it all the way here, thank you for reading, I know it was intense and heavy but I hope you enjoyed it! Do let me know your thoughts in the comments or tags, particularly about the twist - I need to know if my crazy mind managed to pull this off or not hehe You can also read Jeonghan's and Seungcheol's :)

[daenysx]

hii angel, can i request modern aemond as dad or with a pregnant reader for the sleepover??i miss dad!aemond

thanks, my love, i hope you enjoy <333

modern!aemond targaryen x pregnant fem!reader

"you can't help yourself, can you?" aemond steps in, catching you on your feet as you try to reach to a book on the higher shelf. "you need to be resting."

you scoff, irritated and honestly so tired. "i wanted a book."

"you should've told me."

"i can do things by myself."

"you are seven months pregnant and the doctor told you to keep things easy. trying to reach a book that high is not easy."

you roll your eyes. what does he want you to do, just scream his name every time you need the tiniest thing? you know he means the best, but this is getting tiring at this point, same conversations over and over, and you just want to relax. your back hurts, your legs get numb when you lie down too much. it's not easy to carry a baby.

aemond gives up. you look like you're gonna cry, frustrated and kind of cute. he takes a few steps to come next to you. he's quiet as he leans down to brush a shallow kiss on your forehead.

"i never want you to be upset." he says.

"i know."

"i apologise if i become overbearing." aemond whispers. he surrenders easily as he puts a hand on your belly. "i just want both of you to be okay."

"you're not overbearing." you tell him with a soft voice. he just wants to be better, he can't fail this. "i'm tired and i miss doing things by myself."

he hugs you in a weird angle, neither of you care. he smells so nice and his sweater is soft against your cheek, he feels safe and strong when you lean to his chest. he kisses your head, you close your eyes. it's so nice to think you'll have a baby with him in less than two months.

"which book did you want?"

"i don't want it anymore." you say. "any chance you'd like lie down with me?"

"sure." aemond accepts your offer casually. you look lovely when you get what you want, all glowy and pretty, it's a funny feeling to know his dreams came through. he takes you to couch, your new favorite spot to lie down, the fluffy blanket is thrown over and ready to be used.

you got used to adjusting your body in a comfy position before you sleep. aemond gives you space to use the couch however you want, he settles down next to you when you're ready.

"my baby." he whispers, putting his hand on your belly. you like it when he drags his fingers all over you, circles and lines, his fingertips rest nicely on your skin.

you let out a good breath as the weight on your back decreases slowly. your hand goes on your belly to catch aemond's fingers. will the baby have his hair? you are so curious of the details, it lessens the ache in your body. will she have your eyes? the possible combinations of your looks are endless, aemond keeps wishing she could look like you.

"i can rub your back." he offers, gently. "or i can read your book out loud if you want to fall asleep after. just please- let me do things for you."

"you're doing so many things for me." you murmur to his chest.

"i need to do more, sweetheart." he whispers. "nothing feels enough."

the urge to take care of you is stronger than ever. it's for his sanity, really.

"you'll be a really good dad, aemond." you say before falling asleep, and aemond will never forget your words. "i'm sure she'll tell you this exact same thing when she grows up."

dreamer girl sleepover ♡

[gyuzgrl]

the sounds you make IIbskII

summary- Seungkwan's been working too hard these days. Your innocent plan to ease his aches and pains takes a heated turn when you find yourself growing aroused by the sounds he makes under you.

You didn't mean for things to unfold like this. Truly.

It had been an hour since Seungkwan got off work. An hour since you noticed how tired he looked. An hour since you sweetly proposed giving him a massage.

He rejected the offer initially, not wanting to tire you out over nothing, but after your endless pestering, he caved.

You should've known then, that feeling up a beautiful man late at night, with soft r&b playing in the background, was bound to get you feeling some kind of way.

Ever the good Samaritan, you did your best to make him feel good. You lit candles, put on soft music, brought out your favourite massage oils- really pulled out all the stops. He was precious to you. Of course you'd do this for your sweet boyfriend.

"bedroom-turned-private spa," you grinned, kneeling on the bed, "not bad huh?"

"not bad at all, sweetheart" His eyes widened as he looked around the room, taken aback just a little by how much effort you'd put in. "where d'ya want me?"

"bed, silly"

Seungkwan complied, wordlessly. He whisked his shirt off and laid on his tummy, sighing when his body sank into the plush mattress.

Straddling his lower back, you rubbed soothing circles into his shoulders, feeling how tense he was. A little massage oil was all you needed to warm up his skin as your hands glided across his broad back with ease.

A knot between his shoulder blades seemed particularly hard, and you pressed down with your thumbs to work it out. Seungkwan groaned against the sheets, voice muffled but still audible to you.

You pushed further, earning a louder response, and you swallowed thickly at the lump settling in your throat.

'this is about Seungkwan, not you. snap out of it.'

"I'm not hurting you, am I kwannie?"

"no baby, you're- you're so doing well, thank you" his voice comes out strained. It reminds of you of how how he sounds when he eases himself into y-

'down girl- you're insatiable, god'

That's pretty much how the next hour goes; with you trying to keep your thoughts at bay as the man under you groans in pleasure, unaware of the effect he has on your poor cunt.

Except he is. Seungkwan is, very much aware of your position. Your sharp inhales, your desperate pants, shallow breaths- he heard it all. And he intended to take full advantage.

"sweetheart," he sighs, "can you do the front too? my chest's still sore from that stupid workout regime Woozi Hyung's put me on"

He gives you the sweetest, most pitiful pout, and your heart twists a little against your ribs. How could you say no to your sweet boy? How could you, when he looked at you so prettily?

You hum, lifting yourself up so he can turn under you, and the sight you're met with has regret coursing through you.

Firm, hardened muscles were one thing, but that face- he was easily one of the prettiest men out there. Especially now, having grown into his features a little more.

You find yourself staring at his face for a little too long, and quickly lower your gaze to his chest. Lathering your hands with some more oil, you coat his skin with the scented fluid, gulping thickly with every sound he makes.

"fuck-" he hisses, biting into his lower lip, "you do this so well, baby"

Involuntarily, your hips roll forward against his own, and your eyes widen, unable to control the way your body reacts to him. His sly smile escapes you in your panic, and you cough to cover up the mishap.

You trail your hands lower, to his stomach- surprisingly toned. When you first saw his torso bare, you couldn't control the gasp that escaped you. Whatever happened to the fluffy, wholesome man you once knew?

"I hurt myself here today, y'know?" he rasps, tilting his head toward a little bruise on his lower abs. You pout, scooting lower to place a soft kiss to the spot.

He shivers.

"hurt myself here too," Seungkwan threads his long fingers through your hair, guiding your face up to his, "right here" He tugs you down to meet his lips, and kisses you slow.

Your lips mold against each other, pushing hungrily against one another's skin, until you pull away- panting.

"what are y-" he interrupts with another kiss, harder than the last. His tongue bullies its way into your mouth, hot breaths enmeshing as he forces your jaw open. "you thought I wouldn't notice?" he pants against your mouth, "how you squirmed with each sound I made?"

His hands ghost over your waist, trailing their way up to your jaw. They cradled your face so perfectly, made you feel so small for fitting in his palms with such ease.

"as much as I loved the massage, I think it's time you let me take care of you, hm? would you like that sweetheart? I bet that poor pussy of yours is aching right now"

You nod desperately, feeling your panties dampen with anticipation.

"words"

"please-"

"you're a smart girl, aren't you? you have such a way with words- such eloquence- look at you now" he pouts in faux sympathy, "poor baby, needs me so bad she can barely speak"

You'd slap him if he said this outside the confines of your bedroom, of course, but now, it sends heat rushing to your pussy and all you can do is nod dumbly.

"s'okay sweetheart, I got you- I'll give you what you need, okay angel?"

He tugs your clothes off, leaving you bare above him, and sits up against the headboard. "wanna ride my thigh, baby? hm? wanna cum on my thigh and make a mess on my sweatpants?"

You whimper out a small "yes please" and Seungkwan lifts you onto his thigh, hands gripping your waist.

"y'know what to do angel, follow my hands- fuck, just like that" He rolls your body forward, forcing you down onto his thigh, and finally you feel a sense of relief.

A moan slips past your lips when your clit meets the textured surface of his sweatpants, the sudden stimulation sending jolts of electricity up your back.

"f-fuck-"

He tenses his thigh, dragging your body back and forth, as his name falls from your lips like it's all you know. Like he's all you know.

Your moans get louder and he knows you're close. Altruistic as ever, he bounces his leg- for your pleasure, of course- and pushes you down harder against his solid muscle.

"I'm- oh my god- cumming, I'm cu-" you moan, cutting yourself off when your vision turns white. Seungkwan eases you through your orgasm, making sure you ride your high, and places a peck on the seam of your mouth.

"that's it, that's my girl," he praises, one hand leaving your hip to stroke your hair, "so good for me, aren't you?"

"mhm- all for you kwannie"

"think you can gimme one more?"

"yes," you breathe, smoothing your hands over his chest.

In one swift motion, Seungkwan flips you over, now hovering above you. He kisses you again, tracing his way down to your sex, placing wet pecks to your lips, your jaw, your breasts, and your tummy, before he reaches where you need him most.

His eyes flutter closed as he takes in the scent of you, savoring the way you smell with no shame. It makes you shy.

"kwanniee," you whine, closing your legs, "that's embarrassing"

"is it, sweetheart? don't get shy on me now, c'mon" His hands grip your inner thighs and push them open, reveling at the sight of your pretty pussy- soaked and glistening for him.

He lowers his mouth to you, tongue fiddling with your clit before lapping up the remnants of your arousal, and your body jolts up at the contact.

"nuh uh- you're gonna hold still for me," he warns, splaying one hand across your belly to push you back down. "fuck you taste like heaven"

"shut up" you whine. Seungkwan cocks a brow at you.

"can't eat you out with my mouth closed, sweetheart" He plunges his tongue into your cunt and you cry out, hands threading through his hair to hold him steady. "see baby? you like my mouth open- like when i fuck you with it"

The wet muscle pushes into you over and over, and you feel your orgasm build. Seungkwan's hand dips from your belly, to your clit, and he presses down on the hardened nub, rolling it under the pad of his thumb.

"oh my fucki- oh my god, please- please don't stop"

You writhe under him- limbs shaking, hips jerking forward- and in a flash, you feel your stomach uncoil, relief flooding your system like a warm breeze.

"good fucking girl," Seungkwan mumbles into your thigh, "cumming all over my face making those pretty sounds,"

Your chest heaves, breathing evidently unsteady. Seungkwan crawls back up to you, placing his lips on yours so you can taste how sweet you are. You moan into the kiss, grabbing his face, pulling him closer.

This was going to be a long night.

[velvetvexations]

Have you seen the interaction between gwemmieee and faggy—butch circling your feed yet? What a mess

@gwemmieee I'm gonna tag you here because your pinned asks that people talk to you when they have issues with what you say. It seems like you might be tired of discussing the subject, though, and I encourage you to ignore this if you would you would rather. It's essentially my take on the first few things you said and why I feel like they weren't great and people were right to be bothered by it, but you don't seem like a terrible person and it's more important that you take care of yourself than throw yourself into endless argument.

@faggy--butch I'll also tag you if this feels relevant to you, lmk if you'd rather I take it out

-----

I generally keep discourse off my feed because if I follow someone who talks about the intercommunity stuff I can handle they inevitably talk about the stuff that's triggering for me. There are several people I'd love to be mutual with otherwise.

I'd heard about it but did not realize it was quite that...extensive. Mm. I'm not sure if my perspective as another transfem would help or not since she seems in a rough place over it. I'll say there her things in her original reply that faggy--butch didn't even mention that I didn't like, like claiming trans men have problems getting access to certain spaces but trans women can't exist anywhere. That's pretty dire and if not for the insistence that she believes in the validity of transandrophobia would probably be enough to get me to be mean to her, but it seems like she was genuinely trying to be negotiable, and that's an important distinction when a lot of people really are treating transmasc issues as so much lesser in comparison to transfems.

The problem is that "transandrophobes bad" is not really a negotiable position. In what way are "baby transfems" being "vilified"? It's not a matter of not being up to date. Some of the things not only transfems but also self-identified TMEs - note that the OP did not say transfems - are really vile and cruel. To jump onto a post saying that to protest that one shouldn't be too mean to them back feels...weird.

Like;

However, if a trans masc wants to hold any baby trans fem to an unreasonably high standard of always knowing what is and isn't OK to say, and what feelings are not OK to voice, instead of engaging in good faith and trying to hear them, validate them, educate them, and NOT control them, that's kinda fucked up.

That's just not happening. That's not what's going on. To say transandrophobes simply "don't know what is and isn't okay to say, and what feelings are not OK to voice" really truly is treating them like literal babies. It may not be what she meant to say but it's so hard to understand a meaning to those initial posts that aren't saying one should never get mad at a trans woman for anything they say or do because being treated like a bad person is traumatic.

She seems to have gone on to have a better conversation about it with others where she understood more of what was being said and was able to clarify her thoughts more, but that still ends with blaming others for coming in too hot and I don't think that tracks at all. Even if she didn't mean to say something, she still said what she said and it's not really fair to turn that around as everyone just misunderstanding her and it not being her fault for that.

[sevenop]

Billie Eilish x Fem!reader: Eau De Parfum

A/n: once you love the warm and calm fragrance of Eilish no. 1, you studiously avoid its diametrical opposite - the bold and dark no. 2. According to your first impression, the languid woody trail of the perfume is not your path. But why does it feel so appealing? Billie helps you decide, revealing this fragrance in a new light.

«... cause I feel like, it's weird, but I feel like a fan myself. I just... It doesn't feel real!» - A genuine smile for the camera and a slight shrug, that's what Billie is all about. A knack for the camera and an incorruptible amount of sincerity, even when she's actually on the other side of the screen from her fans.

Eilish brought you along to shoot the launch of her fragrances Eilish and Eilish no. 2 for Ulta Beauty, and you just couldn't say no to her: your mutual desire to spend more time together and the opportunity to wander around a completely free (not counting the small film crew, a couple of consultants and security, of course) store is definitely what made you say yes. And enjoying Eilish's looseness in the crosshairs of the cameras is a huge pleasure, I must say.

After a few unsuccessful doubles, you realize that standing in the same position with your back against the wall for the last thirty minutes has been quite tiring. Darting between the many racks of cosmetics and perfumes, you try to entertain yourself a little to shake off the fatigue and late night slumber. Your gaze confusedly clings to the endless bottles of perfume, attracting you with their rich color or unusual shape. It is really difficult to concentrate on one thing, and not to lose your sense of smell after a dozen samples that you have managed to smell - something mind-bogglingly impossible. A short conversation with a nice female consultant pleasantly brightens up your wait, when you are already tired of circling the store for the third time. You come out from behind a row of boring shelves, wanting to go back, but you stop abruptly.

The confident gaze of the dark blue eyes, the seductive wet ink-black strands of hair mysteriously falling over her shoulders, the neat palms, on both sides closing black, like a symmetrically carved flacon. And, of course, devilishly inviting lips. Frankly speaking, you are staring hungry at a large advertising poster with your own girlfriend, as if you are seeing it for the first time. Well, I congratulate you.

Mixed with aesthetic admiration, thoughts of this tantalizing second perfume are in your head again: is it even worth trying it on yourself when you prefer the comfortable vanilla "hug" of the first one? Billie's languid, woody scent certainly suits her, but... what about you?

"Just a couple more minutes and you'll soon be making a hole in the glass," - the familiar velvet voice and the warmth of the palm that created a perfect 'lock' with yours, - "I'm wildly pleased, though."

Billie brings you out of your trance as suddenly as you entered it. Smiling, you close your fingers a little tighter for a few moments. A tacit confirmation that you are back in the real world.

"So... You want to give it a try after all?"

The tangle of tangled thoughts and doubts is back in motion in your head. You stare helplessly at the poster, then at Eilish herself. The better solution is to shrug your shoulders and sink your gaze into the socks of your slightly battered Jordans. Which is exactly what you're doing.

"Honestly, I don't even know, my love. On you it reveals itself so tantalizing. I don't think it would suit me."

"But you haven't even tried it," - her eyebrows come together gently the bridge of her nose in a confused squint, the word storm cloud over seas of blue.

"I know, but..."

The words remain unspoken: Billie, armed with a confident smirk, pulls you toward a rack of her own products and gallantly beckons the consultant over to you. By the end of the shoot, you're already sitting in her car with the "intimidating" dark box of a full-size bottle from the second collection on your lap.

"And yet I don't think it's mine."

"Relax, baby," Billie deftly slung the seat belt over her shoulder and turned the key in the ignition. The pleasant murmur of the engine is immediately heard in the Audi's interior, "Just let me prove how tantalizing you are. I'm sure you two will become friends."

The car slowly pulls out of the parking lot, remaining almost invisible in the night darkness that has descended on the city. And while Eilish drives the car relaxedly, biting the corner of her lips in thought, you nervously beat a rhythm with your fingers on the surface of the box that only you know. You're nervous, but you silently allow her. You allow her absolutely everything.

×××

The cool shower dampens your excitement until Billie enters the room: the singer looks like she's stepped out of that poster, except that instead of a black dress, she's wearing a long cotton T-shirt that reaches mid-thigh. Otherwise, the differences are nil, even in her hands she now has a weighty charcoal figure in the form of a woman's bust. You wince somewhat, bumping the tip of your nose against the collar of your terrycloth robe.

"I promise it won't hurt," - Billie's irony is what she finally disarms you with, sitting down at your side. Eilish's smile across from you and the rustle of the blanket, infused with a special warmth, is reassuring. You trust her, despite the childish stupidity of your situation.

"I'm ready," - you say confidently and clearly, eyes fixed on the eyes opposite, as if it were a lifeline. Billie chuckles, palm touching your cheek.

"Just let me put the finishing touches on it, my brave girl."

A second, and you're completely naked in front of her: in a few deliberately leisurely movements, Billie first loosens the knot in the waistband of your robe, then removes it altogether. The terry softness slips pleasantly off your shoulders, giving way to the sassy gaze of blue eyes. She freezes, admiring the etude that has emerged before her in the golden-warm semi-darkness of the bedroom, and you smirk. Confidence grows.

Picking up the cap of the flacon with her fingers, she apply three cool, but mentally scalding sprays: your collarbones, the area behind your ear, your wrist. Eilish takes her time, looking clearly into your eyes with each cloud of fragrance. You instantly smell the voluminous scent of ebony and palo santo, mysterious in its tranquility; you see the crazy blue lights dancing in Eilish's eyes.

"First sensations?" - The carved lid of the expensive vial taps lightly, like marble, returning to its rightful place, the vial itself flinged in the center of the bed - Eilish has no intention of being ceremonious, focusing all of her attention now on you alone.

"It's much more intimate than the no. 1. So... warm, lingering. It's like I'm in some kind of gothic cathedral with you."

"Very good, we can keep going."

And then it all blends into one continuous pleasure: hot kisses, sheets, bites, moans. Eilish is enjoying yourself, and you're absolutely lost, torn in half by the smells and sensations. Her hands seem to be everywhere; the barely husky whisper of over-the-top excitement penetrates your subcortex. When her tongue traces a path between your collarbones and downward, you can smell the poppy odor. Placing a few bright hickeys on your neck, a perfumed black pepper shoots into your nose, driving you both crazy. Eilish hungrily grabs your thighs, spreading them a little more - the scent of papyrus is more pronounced in the air. She kneels down, tongue placing the place where it's hottest right now - you smell vanilla, making you throw your head back and breathe intermittently. Only lastly, apple blossom and bergamot cover you with their tranquility as you cum, rhythmically thrusting yourself onto her fingers.

The diametric opposite in flavor perception is replaced by understanding. Eilish no. 2 is a long-awaited night shared by two, something that envelops you with desire and passion, something that gives you the confidence. It's a flavor closer than any other.

"Perfume always opens up on hot skin in a different way. And it suits you no less than it suits me," - she playfully whispers into your jaw line before you both fall asleep in each other's arms.

[loweffortopinions]

Companions: We have to stop the Elven Gods, Elgar’nan and Ghilan’nain. We have to stop the Elven Gods, Elgar’nan and Ghilan’nain. WE. HAVE. TO. STOP. THE. ELVEN. GODS. ELGAR'NAN. AND. GHILAN'NAIN.

Bellara: ROOK ARE YOU LISTENING?! WE HAVE TO -

Rook: (tired and done with everyone's shit) "Do we though?"

Neve and Lucanis: (Seriously shocked) “What?”

Rook: "What? I mean yes, of course. We have to stop Elgar'nan and... Ghilgamesh...? Gilga'nain? Gilga... fuck" (Winces, fully aware of the storm they just unleashed.)

Lucanis: (Nearly spits out his coffee but swallows it with a pained expression) “Mierda… it’s Ghilan’nain, Rook. Not Gilga’nain. How do you keep getting it wrong?”

Neve: (Raises an eyebrow, unimpressed.) “Aren’t you an elf? Shouldn’t this be second nature to you?”

Rook: (Clearly offended. ) “I'm from the city, Neve. Well, from a Circle, really— Not that anyone’s bothered to ask. Besides, I’m Andrastian! Why would I know about a dozen Elven Gods that are irrelevant to me?"

Bellara: (Takes a deep breath, preparing to launch into a lecture.) “Actually… there are nine! Let me explain—”

Rook: *Visibly about to lose it*

Emmerich: (Steps in hurriedly, gently steering Rook away.) “All right, darling, let’s walk it off." (As they walk up the stair) "Just think of those lovely fish of yours. Breathe, in and out. That’s it—focus on the fish.”

Sooo... Despite hearing their names on an endless loop, I still thought it was Gilga’nain instead of Ghilan’nain.

[gummyyummyjam]

I'm home alone (you're God-knows-where)

In the shadow of Harry Potter’s endless departures and promises, Draco Malfoy learns the cost of loving someone who may never learn to stay.

The Slytherin common room was eerily quiet tonight. The greenish glow from the lake’s waters reflected through the windows, casting an otherworldly light on the plush furniture. It was a silence Draco Malfoy had grown accustomed to, though not one he particularly liked. His fingers toyed with the edges of a well-worn book on his lap, though he hadn’t turned a page in over twenty minutes. His thoughts were elsewhere, circling back to a certain messy-haired Gryffindor who had, once again, disappeared without explanation.

Harry bloody Potter.

Draco’s lips twitched into a wry smile, one that didn’t quite reach his eyes. He’d never imagined himself in this position: pining for the Golden Boy, waiting for scraps of his attention like some lovesick fool. It was ironic, really. He’d spent years hating Potter, envying him, and now… well, now he’d give anything for Harry to stay.

But Harry never stayed. Not really.

“The games you played were never fun,” Draco muttered to himself, voice low and bitter. The memory of Harry’s last departure lingered in his mind. The half-hearted promises, the fleeting kiss goodbye, and then… nothing. Days would pass, sometimes weeks, before Harry resurfaced, acting as though everything was fine, as though Draco wasn’t left behind to pick up the pieces.

Draco’s knuckles tightened around the book. He was tired of it. Tired of giving Harry what he wanted, of trying to be what Harry said he needed, only to be left torn apart when the Gryffindor inevitably walked away. It wasn’t fair, was it? No, Draco thought bitterly, it wasn’t fair at all.

The first time they’d kissed had been in the aftermath of a duel. A heated exchange of spells in an abandoned classroom had spiraled into something else entirely. The room had smelled of burnt parchment and dust, the air still crackling with residual magic. Draco could still remember the way Harry had looked at him—eyes blazing, cheeks flushed, and then, suddenly, lips pressed against his in a kiss that was more fire than finesse. It had been exhilarating, intoxicating, and utterly confusing.

Draco had pushed Harry away at first, his heart hammering in his chest. “What the hell was that?” he’d demanded, though the answer was clear in Harry’s eyes. Those damn green eyes… they always seemed to hold the truth Draco wasn’t ready to face.

Harry had shrugged, a small smile playing on his lips. “Does it matter?”

And at the time, it hadn’t. The heat of the moment, the thrill of breaking every unspoken rule… it had been enough. But now, months later, it mattered more than Draco cared to admit. He’d fallen into something he couldn’t control, and the weight of it was starting to crush him.

Draco sighed and set the book aside, leaning back against the couch. His gaze drifted to the window, where he could just make out the faint outline of the squid gliding past. The room felt too big, too empty. “I don’t want any settled scores,” he whispered to the empty room. “I just want you to set me free.”

But Harry never did. He kept coming back, weaving himself into Draco’s life with a charm that was impossible to resist. And every time, Draco let him. He let Harry in, knowing full well that he’d leave again. Knowing that every return carried a ticking clock, counting down to the moment Harry would slip away once more.

It wasn’t that Draco was afraid of being alone. He’d faced more than his fair share of solitude over the years. It had been his constant companion in the shadowed corners of Malfoy Manor, during sleepless nights spent dreading his father’s wrath, and in the quiet moments when the weight of the war threatened to break him. But with Harry, it was different. With Harry, he’d tasted something he hadn’t realized he craved: a connection, a bond that felt real, even if it was fleeting.

“What makes you so sure you’re all I need?” Draco asked the empty room, his voice cracking slightly. He hated how vulnerable he felt, hated the way Harry’s absence left him feeling hollow and restless. It was like trying to breathe with half his lungs missing.

Draco's breath hitched as he stared into the flickering flames of the Slytherin common room’s hearth, his hands trembling ever so slightly. The quiet crackle of the fire was the only sound, but in his mind, Harry’s voice was loud, echoing with words that should have been comforting but had cut him instead.

“You knew what this was,” Harry had said. His tone had been even, almost apologetic, but not enough to disguise the indifference beneath. “Don’t make it more than it is, Draco.”

The words replayed in a loop, each iteration stabbing deeper into the fragile walls Draco had tried to build around his heart. He’d given everything to Harry, more than he thought he was capable of. And yet, it was never enough.

When Harry finally returned, it was well past midnight. Draco heard the telltale creak of the common room door and the soft shuffle of footsteps. The sound was almost tentative, as though Harry knew he wasn’t welcome, he was sneaking inside the supposed-to-be-enemy’s territory for Merlin’s sake, but hoped he might be forgiven anyway. Draco didn’t bother to turn around. Let Harry come to him for once.

“Good. You’re still awake,” Harry said softly, his voice laced with guilt.

Draco let out a humorless laugh. “What gave it away? The fact that I’m sitting here, wide-eyed, in the middle of the night? Yeah, it’s good too that no one hexed me yet, I could still brood and all.”

Harry winced and moved closer, perching on the armrest of the couch. He looked tired, his hair messier than usual, and there was a smudge of dirt on his cheek. Wherever he’d been, it hadn’t been easy. But Draco didn’t care. Not tonight.

“I’m sorry,” Harry murmured, reaching out to touch Draco’s shoulder. But Draco shrugged him off, his body stiff with tension.

“Sorry doesn’t cut it, Potter,” Draco snapped. His silver eyes burned with anger and something deeper, something more painful. “You can’t just… disappear and expect me to wait around like some loyal lapdog. I’m tired of it. I’m tired of you.”

Harry’s face fell, and for a moment, Draco thought he’d finally gotten through to him. But then Harry’s expression hardened. “You don’t mean that,” he said quietly.

“Don’t I?” Draco challenged, standing up and glaring at Harry. His hands trembled at his sides, but he clenched them into fists, willing himself to stay strong. “You’re teaching me to live without you, Potter. And guess what? I’m getting good at it.”

The words hung in the air like a curse, heavy and unforgiving. For a moment, neither of them spoke. Then Harry stood, his jaw clenched. “If that’s how you feel, maybe I should go.”

Draco’s heart clenched, but he refused to let it show. “Maybe you should.”

Harry left, slamming the door behind him, and Draco sank back onto the couch. He’d gotten what he wanted, hadn’t he? He was free. Free from the endless cycle of hope and disappointment. Free from Harry’s games.

So why did it feel like he’d just lost the only thing that had ever truly mattered?

The minutes stretched into hours, the silence growing heavier with each passing moment. Draco stared at the window, his reflection blurry in the glass. “I’m not afraid anymore,” he whispered, though the words felt hollow. “I’m not afraid.”

But as the night dragged on, and the first rays of dawn began to filter through the windows, Draco realized something he’d been avoiding for months.

He wasn’t afraid of being alone.

He was afraid of a life without Harry.

The days following Harry’s departure blurred together in a haze of monotony. Draco carried on, as one does, slipping into the carefully curated routines that masked his unraveling. Breakfast in the Great Hall, potions with Slughorn, study sessions in the library—each task performed with meticulous precision, each interaction scripted to perfection.

But the truth was glaring beneath the surface.

He was hollow.

The Slytherin common room, once a sanctuary of cold comfort, now felt suffocating. The greenish light of the lake had lost its hypnotic quality, replaced by a dull reminder of isolation. Even his dormitory, always a reprieve from the world, felt heavy with Harry’s absence. The spaces between Draco’s breaths were no longer filled with Harry’s reckless laughter, the way his presence seemed to electrify even the most mundane moments.

Draco had told himself he was teaching his heart to forget. But forgetting was harder than he’d anticipated.

A flashback, an unbidden memory, tugged at the corners of Draco's mind like a relentless tide. It was from the beginning, a long way before Harry had first kissed him, and their meetings—because of their so-called truce or friendship or whatever Harry was indicating— were still wrapped in the thrill of secrecy.  

It had been a rainy afternoon in the library, the sound of raindrops against the ancient windows a soothing backdrop. Harry had appeared out of nowhere, his tie loose, his hair damp, and that maddening smirk on his face.

“Can’t stay away, can you?” Harry had teased, leaning over Draco’s shoulder as if they were the closest of friends.

Draco had scowled, though the heat in his cheeks betrayed him. “Don’t flatter yourself, Potter. Some of us actually are here to study.”

But Harry had laughed, that low, infectious chuckle that made Draco’s stomach twist in ways he refused to acknowledge. He’d sat down across from Draco, close enough that their knees brushed under the table. It had been infuriating and intoxicating all at once. And so, he’d ignored Harry after that, burying himself in his work. But Harry’s presence was impossible to ignore. He lingered, leaning against the bookshelf, tossing casual remarks that disrupted Draco’s concentration.

“You’re so bloody predictable,” Harry had remarked again, his green eyes dancing. “Always pretending you’re above it all.”

Draco’s cheeks had burned, and his pride stung. He snapped his book shut, glaring, his voice rising despite the glares from Madam Pince. “And you’re insufferable. Why don’t you go bother someone else?”

Harry’s smile had faded, replaced by something unreadable. He leaned in, his voice dropping to a whisper. “Because I don’t want someone else.”

The air had shifted, charged, and heavy. Draco had frozen, his quill poised mid-air. He’d wanted to retort, to cut Harry down with words, but his throat had tightened. By the time he’d found his voice, Harry had suddenly walked away, leaving Draco with a swirl of confusion and an ache he couldn’t name. And for that moment, Draco had allowed himself to believe and believe, that maybe, just maybe, Harry meant it. 

One night, three days after Harry had walked out, Draco found himself back in the Astronomy Tower. He hadn’t intended to come here, but his feet had carried him almost of their own accord. The cool night air bit at his skin, and the stars above seemed distant and indifferent, much like Draco himself often pretended to be.

And then another memory rose up, it wasn’t nearly as soft. It came with the sharp sting of betrayal. It had been during one of those clandestine meetings in the Astronomy Tower, where they’d carved out a fragile world of their own . 

Harry had arrived late, his hair damp from the rain, his robes askew. Draco had paced the length of the tower, his frustration boiling over as soon as Harry entered.

“Do you think I have nothing better to do than wait for you?” Draco had hissed, his voice sharp enough to cut.

Harry had run a hand through his hair, looking both guilty and defensive. “I’m sorry, okay? Things got… complicated.”

“They’re always complicated with you,” Draco shot back, his silver eyes blazing. “You say you want this—us—but then you disappear for days, weeks. Do you even care?”

Harry’s face had darkened, his jaw tightening. “Of course, I care! But it’s not that simple, Draco. It’s not always easy to get away. You know that! You don’t understand—”

“Do I? No, I don’t understand!” Draco had interrupted, his voice cracking. “Because you won’t let me. You keep me at arm’s length like I’m some dirty little secret you’re ashamed of. And yet, all I know is that I’m always here, waiting, while you—” He’d paused, swallowing the lump in his throat. “While you treat me like an afterthought! Is that all I am to you?”

Harry had stepped closer, his expression softening. “That’s not fair.”

“What’s not fair is giving you everything,” Draco had whispered, his voice trembling, “and getting nothing in return.”

Harry’s silence had been damning. He’d reached out, his hand hovering near Draco’s shoulder, but Draco had stepped back, his heart splintering.

“Don’t,” Draco had whispered, his voice trembling. “Don’t touch me if you don’t mean it.”

Harry had dropped his hand, his expression a mixture of regret and frustration. 

“I never asked you to…” Harry had muttered, his voice barely audible.

The words had hit Draco harder than any curse. He’d turned away, unwilling to let Harry see the tears that threatened to spill. And then, he felt Harry turned away too, and left without another word, leaving Draco alone in the cold, the wind biting at his skin.

Draco closed his eyes, the memory cutting sharper than any blade. He’d hated how Harry had made him feel so out of control, yet he’d craved it too. That wild, unpredictable spark that Harry carried—it had been intoxicating.

Now, it was a phantom pain.

Over and over, he tried to pinpoint the exact moment everything had unraveled. It wasn’t that Draco wanted Harry to suffer; that wasn’t it at all. What he wanted—what he had always wanted—was for Harry to understand. To see the cracks beneath the surface, the scars Draco carried from years of trying and failing to be enough. Enough for his family, enough for his housemates, and now, enough for Harry. But how could he make Harry see when he himself didn’t have the words?

But not all their moments were filled with pain. There were flashes of happiness, fleeting but bright enough to sear into Draco’s memory, as whatever the thing between them kept happening.

One winter evening, they’d found themselves in the Room of Requirement, where the fire crackled warmly, and the snow fell softly outside the enchanted windows as if the fiendfyre and its aftermath didn’t happen at all. They’d been arguing—as they always did—but it had dissolved into laughter when Harry had tripped over a pile of cushions and landed in an undignified heap.

Draco had smirked, leaning against the armrest of the couch. “Graceful as ever, Potter.”

Harry had thrown a cushion at him, his laughter infectious. “Shut up, Malfoy.”

Before Draco could respond, Harry had tackled him, pinning him to the couch. Their faces had been inches apart, their breaths mingling in the warm air.

“You’re insufferable,” Draco had muttered, though his voice lacked venom.

Harry had grinned, his eyes alight with mischief. “I already know that. What else?”

Draco had rolled his eyes, but he hadn’t pushed Harry away and instead pulled him closer. They stared deeply into each other’s eyes, their lips almost touching but not, and the tension between them had been soft and slow and filled with unspoken promises.

And another memory escaped, shifting the moments into something vile.

“Why do you always have to push me away?” Harry had asked, his voice raw.

Draco had laughed bitterly, shaking his head. “That’s rich, coming from you.”

Harry had looked at him then, really looked at him, and for a moment, Draco had thought he saw something real, something vulnerable in those emerald eyes. Harry had stepped closer, his hands framing Draco’s face.

“I’m trying,” Harry had whispered, his forehead resting against Draco’s. “I just… I don’t know how to do this.”

Draco had wanted to believe him. Merlin, he’d wanted to. And for a little while, he guessed he had.

As he sat alone in that tower, Draco closed his eyes against the sting of the memories, but they came anyway, brighter and more vivid than the firelight in his mind like a cruel montage. The good, the bad, the in-between—all of it a reminder of what he’d lost and what he still yearned for. Harry had been a storm in his life, unpredictable and consuming. And he’d loved Harry with a desperation that scared him, a love that he’d worn like armor even as it left him vulnerable. He’d have caught a grenade for Harry and jumped in front of the Killing Curse if it meant saving him. But Harry…

Harry had never been willing to do the same.

And now, in his absence, Draco was left with the quiet aftermath, wondering if he’d ever feel whole again.

One evening, as the common room grew colder with the approaching winter, Draco sat with his knees drawn up to his chest, staring into the fireplace. The flames flickered weakly, casting long shadows across the room. The embers reminded him of Harry—of the fire in his eyes, the warmth he carried even in his most infuriating moments.

“Why do you do this to yourself?” Pansy’s voice broke through the quiet, startling him. She stood in the doorway, arms crossed, her expression soft but tinged with frustration. She had always been perceptive, too much so for Draco’s comfort.

“I don’t know what you mean,” Draco said, though his voice lacked conviction.

Pansy sighed and sat down beside him, her presence steady and grounding. “You’re miserable, Draco. And we both know why.”

Draco didn’t answer. He didn’t need to. The weight of her words settled over him, heavy and unyielding.

“He’s not worth this,” Pansy said gently, placing a hand on his shoulder. “You’re tearing yourself apart for someone who doesn’t even see it.”

Draco flinched at her words, though he knew she wasn’t trying to hurt him. “It’s not that simple,” he whispered, his voice barely audible. “He does see it. I think… I think that’s the problem.”

Pansy frowned, her brow furrowing in confusion. “What do you mean?”

Draco stared into the fire, searching for the right words. “Harry�� he’s afraid of what this means. What we mean. Every time he gets close, he panics. He pulls away, and I—” He broke off, his throat tightening. “I let him.”

“Why?” Pansy’s voice was sharp now, demanding an answer.

“Because,” Draco said, his voice trembling, “I’d rather have pieces of him than nothing at all.”

The admission hung in the air, raw and unguarded. Pansy’s expression softened, and she squeezed his shoulder. “Draco, you deserve more than that. You deserve someone who stays.”

Draco didn’t respond. Deep down, he knew she was right. But knowing and believing were two entirely different things. He felt the weight of it all pressing down on him. He’d given Harry his heart, his soul, every piece of himself he could offer. But Harry had only ever taken, leaving Draco to pick up the shattered remains.

“I would have died for you,” Draco whispered into the empty room, his voice breaking. “But you wouldn’t even stay for me.”

The fire crackled on, indifferent to his pain, as Draco’s tears finally fell, silent and unrelenting.

The seventh day brought a letter.

It was tucked beneath Draco’s Charms textbook, folded haphazardly, as though whoever had delivered it hadn’t cared whether it reached him at all. Draco stared at the unfamiliar parchment for a long time, his pulse hammering in his ears. He didn’t need to see the messy handwriting to know it was from Harry.

His fingers trembled as he unfolded it.

Draco,

I don’t know how to start this. I never do. Words have never been my strong suit, not when it comes to this… to us. But I’ll try because you deserve that much.

Draco’s breath hitched.

I’ve always been rubbish at staying. I think you know that better than anyone. It’s not that I don’t care—it’s that I care too much. And sometimes that scares me. Being with you… it makes me feel things I don’t know how to handle. Like I’m standing on the edge of something I can’t see, and one wrong move will send me over.

Draco’s vision blurred, and he blinked furiously.

But walking away doesn’t make it easier. It doesn’t stop me from missing you, from wanting you. I thought if I left, I’d be doing us both a favor. That maybe you’d be better off without me. But now… I’m not so sure.

I’m sorry for the way I’ve treated you. For making you feel like you’re not enough when the truth is, you’re more than I ever deserved.

I want to fix this. If you’ll let me.

-Harry

Draco sat there for what felt like hours, the letter clutched tightly in his hands. He read it over and over, dissecting every word, every pause, every sentiment. It was messy and flawed and painfully honest—just like Harry.

He wanted to scream, to cry, to storm into Gryffindor Tower and hex Harry for being so infuriating. But more than that, he wanted to believe again .

Believe that Harry meant it. Again .

That this time would be different. Again .

The knock on the Slytherin common room door came late that night. Draco knew it was Harry before he even opened it. He could feel his presence, like a storm brewing just beyond the threshold.

When Draco finally pulled the door open, Harry stood there, looking as disheveled as ever. His eyes were shadowed with exhaustion, his hands shoved deep into his pockets. He looked like a man ready to beg for redemption.

“I didn’t think you’d come,” Draco said quietly, his voice devoid of the sharp edges it usually carried.

Harry shrugged, his gaze flicking to the floor. “I had to try... and... I never really wanted to...  leave... you..."

For a long moment, neither of them spoke. Then, finally, Draco stepped aside, allowing Harry to enter.

They sat by the fire, the warmth casting flickering shadows across their faces. Draco didn’t say a word as Harry poured out his heart—his fears, his regrets, his desperate hope for another chance.

“I know I’ve hurt you,” Harry admitted, his voice hoarse. But in Draco’s mind, You hurt me constantly, in every subtle and deliberate way imaginable.

“And I can’t promise I won’t mess up again. But I want to try, Draco. I want to be better—for you, for us.”

Draco studied him, his silver eyes unreadable. He wanted to believe Harry, all over again. But trust wasn’t something that could be rebuilt overnight.

“You’ve left me so many times,” Draco said, his voice barely above a whisper. “How do I know you won’t do it again?”

Harry’s gaze was steady, unwavering. “You don’t. All I can do is prove to you that I’m not going anywhere this time.”

“Why do you always leave, Harry?” Draco’s voice cracked, the words tumbling out before he could stop them.

Harry hesitated, running a hand through his messy hair. “Because I’m scared,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. “I’m scared of what this means. Of what we could be.”

Draco’s chest tightened a mixture of anger and hope warring within him because he was right about Harry’s thoughts in the first place. “Do you think you’re the only one who’s scared?” he demanded. “Do you think I don’t feel the same way? But I’m here, Harry. I’m here, and you… you keep running.”

Harry moved closer, his expression filled with regret. “I know,” he said softly. “And I hate myself for it. But I can’t lose you, Draco. I can’t.”

Draco laughed bitterly, shaking his head. “You already have, Harry. Every time you walk away, you lose me a little more.”

For a moment, they sat in silence, the weight of unspoken truths pressing down on them. Then Harry did something Draco hadn’t expected. He dropped to his knees in front of him, his hands trembling as he reached for Draco’s.

“I’m not going anywhere,” Harry said, his voice firm despite the tears glistening in his eyes. “Not this time. I swear.”

Draco stared at him, searching his face for any sign of deception. But all he saw was sincerity, raw and unfiltered. Draco’s heart ached with the weight of it all. The love, the pain, the hope that had been buried beneath the rubble of their broken relationship. Even if it kills him—whether from the pain Harry causes or simply because he’s Harry Potter—Draco will always forgive and choose him, over and over again. Slowly, tentatively, he reaches out, his hand brushing against Harry’s.

“You’d better not,” Draco said quietly, his voice steady but his heart racing. “Because if you do, Harry, I won’t be here when you come back.” If you do it again, Harry, well fuck that because I will still be here, waiting… 

Harry nodded, his grip on Draco’s hands tightening. “I won’t leave. Not again.”

“Don’t make me regret this,” Draco said softly. Don’t make me choose you only to be hurt again in the end.

Harry’s fingers shifted, capturing Draco’s jaw with a trembling certainty, tilting his face upward until their eyes locked, the depth of emotion—a spark of something fragile and hopeful igniting between them.

“I won’t,” Harry promised.

Draco allowed himself to believe him, all over again . 

okayy, so this was a one-shot i posted in Ao3. I just wanna share it LOL. btw, FLASHBACKS are in Italics! and yep, this is somehow based on Billie Eilish's song BORED x Bruno Mars' GRENADE! honestly, idk what timeline in the book suit this plot, and so i thought maybe a post-war hogwarts timeline. but then, you could just imagine any timeline, which is which, cause honestly this is just a bit of draco's perspective when it comes to harry & their push and pull dynamics, and not about what's happening around them, whether they're in the same room or not.

[gaypirate420]

Moonshine and Starlight //Dream*

Dream* of the Endless x witch!GN!reader.

Summary: Morpheus helps you sleep.

Angst/Fluff. Dream and Reader being divorced..

A/N: Probably ooc because I haven't written for my husband for so long.

"What's the matter, Matthew?" The words of the King of Dreams echoed through the wide halls of the entrance to his palace.

The Dream Lord found his raven very busy in another matter, that being melting onto your touch while he nuzzled on your lap.

"We have a visitor, my lord." Was all the raven could respond as your gentle fingers brushed down the feathers of his head making him caw.

"Why are you here?" He asked not really knowing what tone should he use with you.

"I'm afraid I'm not here because I wanted to see you, but because I have a problem with dreams, my lord." You said mockingly as you caressed the feather's of the new raven before standing up and meeting his star filled eyes and long figure, those black ropes dripping down the marble floor.

"Enlighten me then. What kind of problems are dreams causing you, dream witch?" Morpheus muttered with the silky smooth voice that you adore, you took his arm and begin to walk, seeming so normal, muscle memory perhaps.

"It must be something important if it makes you come to my palace after two hundred years. Something that goes beyond the centuries of knowledge you possess." He spoke gently. You smirked and looked at him and although his gaze remained emotionless but you know when your ex-husband is teasing you.

"A client of mine. She's been having this— weird dreams about her family telling her very specific things." You explained as you begin to walk alongside the Endless, the night sky that lied above your head on the palace's ceiling captured your eyes.

You stoped for a moment to look at it, missing it's beauty.

"I've been looking inside her dreams, trying to decipher their meaning." You continues with a tone of slight frustration before meeting his gaze, noticing his starry eyes looking at your every moment.

"You came here just to ask the meaning of some mortal's dream?" Morpheus asked as his eyes took in your image, you smirked again and shaked your head.

"No. I don't give up that easily, Oneiros." You smirked with smugness, the Dream Lord mimicked your smirk.

"I never said you did. Why is it that you're here then, moonshine?" He asked as he walked you through to the large halls of the palace.

Moonshine, what a nickname to give someone, specially coming from the Lord of Dreams. The Endless that finds you as bright as the shine of the moon, a signal of light in darkness.

It's been so long since he's mutter such nickname.

"Well, It's been costing me my sleeping hours, but that's not new— the things is when I do sleep I have dreamless rest or the most horrible nightmares." You whispered, there was a linger of anger on your tone.

"I came here to ask you something, Dream."

"Ask away, moonshine."

"Have I done something wrong? Something to deserve this punishment, perhaps?" Your whispers makes him stop on his tracks, his eyes meet yours. The Lord of Dreams face had an expression one of confusion and deep sadness.

"Do you think that is my doing? You think of yourself worth of a punishment so severe?" He whispers back, his eyes looking at your tired eyes, the darks circles under them.

"Do you think I would do such thing as that to you?"

You stayed silent, looking away from his gaze. His pale hand cupped your cheek, you gasped and a silent tear fell down your cheek which was wiped by his thumb that consequently held your chin and make you meet his eyes once more.

"The answer is no. I am not punishing you because those night terrors that invade your sleep were not send by me, moonshine." He whispered with such conviction.

As in saying "Believe me. I could never harm you."

"And you have never wrong me nor this realm. You've been an impecable aid and- companion for me." He stated, you smiled and felt yourself blushing, a yawn scaped your lips and his gaze softened.

"Am I boring you, moonshine?" Morpheus smirked you looked at him with sleepy eyes.

"It's not my fault your voice is so comforting and I'm- exhausted for my work and the horrible sleep I've had." You explained before smiling.

"Comforting?" The Dream Lord asked, you nodded and looked up at him with a smile.

"Soothing. Perfect for listening while you fall asleep." You explained before yawning again.

Feeling his hand on the back of your neck and in a matter of second you were lied down on the softest of mattresses, resting your head on a pillow that could pass for a cloud.

You looked up and met the most beautiful night sky you've ever seen, pink and purple surrounded with constellations.

The bed itself was almost floating in between marble floors and the night sky.

This is the room of Dream of the Endless himself.

"Why are you not sleeping yet?" Morpheus's voice snap you back to reality, you meet his eyes that now shine with the reflections of the galaxy that surrounds you.

"I dunno, maybe you've lost your touch." You teased, The Dream Lord furrowed his eyebrows but his lips let out a soft chuckle.

"Perhaps you're just stubborn." He whispered while his slim finger caress your cheek, you leaned on his touch so quickly that it made you disappointed in yourself but it felt so good.

"Those nightmares won't bother you again, my moonshine." Morpheus stated as his fingers kept moving across your face with delicacy.

"Why am I in your room? There's like two hundred guest rooms." You asked as your eyes closed. Dream fell silent for a second.

"Because I- want you here." He started speaking so softly almost as if he was embarrassed to say it, you nodded for him to continue.

"Your precense on The Dreaming has been missed, the creatures of the dreaming had voiced that sentiment many times." The Endless continued, his mouth still slight open, you could picture him trying to find the right words.

You nodded once more, it always difficult for him to speak his emotions and needs.

"The haunted dolls of my shop miss you." You spoke sleepy, The Dream Lord arched his eyebrow and smirked as his hand moved to your hair, touching it with a hint of shyness, thinking if he's still allowed to do such motion. Afraid of crossing any lines or boundaries.

"The- dolls? Do you miss me, perchance?" He asked with a uncharacteristically shy and insecure voice, you opened your eyes.

"Do you, Oneiros? Or just the creatures of your realm?" You snapped back with a smirk. He leaned closer to you, the stars in his eyes shining bright, his thumb stroked your bottom lip as his eyes got lost on yours.

"Yes." Morpheus whispered with a discreet but playful smile once that 'yes' was heard by you.

"I do miss you, moonshine."

You closed your eyes once more after his words, so much sincerity and raw devotion within such a short sentence.

"I miss you too, starlight." You whispered back with a smile, Morpheus smirked and kept stroking your hair.

How has he missed that nickname.

A play of words with the one he has for you.

Starlight. The light of a start that accompanies the shining moon at night. He wonders how, of all things, you could see him as a star.

The drowsiness was unbearable now for you.

The last thing you felt before falling asleep was a gentle kiss on your forehead.

"Sleep well, moonshine." Morpheus whispered against your ear, making you fall into a deep and much needed rest, filled with the sweetest dreams one could imagine of.

And of course, The Dream king holding your hand all the time, supervising these dreams.

——————————————————————

A/N: Heyyyyyyy, it's been a while since I've wrote for my husband, ugh, I love him, I always enjoy writing for him, it just so right. Hope you liked this!

[spiderfunkz]

✦ LAST NIGHT, I DREAMT.

— summary : you couldn't let go of what you had, and so couldn't your dreams.

— word count : 0,6k

— warnings : angst!! no happy ending, major character death, sleeping as a way to escape, mentions of medication & hallucinating, grief, natasha was reader's gf, andd lmk if i missed any.

a/n : inspired by warsh_tippy and zelda by whatever, dad. also this is so rushed sorry.

grieving isn't easy.

especially when you're all alone.

you listened to the whispers of the wind, head resting near the window of your bed, staring into the endless-foggy view of the forest outside.

you yawn. it's only 5 pm.

but every hour feels the same. no hour is special anymore. no more waiting at 9 pm, no more bell ringing at 10 pm, no more movie nights at 12 am, no more falling asleep together at 2 am, and no more love letters left at 6 am.

you blink, trying to stay awake, but the thought of sleeping through the day never felt greater.

but that's all you've been doing. sleeping. waking up still tired. existing for a few hours. then sleeping again.

it's starting to become a loop everyday.

your thoughts ramble on and on in a circle continuously before falling asleep.

the silence was deafening.

you woke up with a slight headache. you just fell asleep. why are you up again?

you look around for your watch, it was on the windowsill, you left it there before falling asleep.

you shrug it off.

maybe you were hallucinating.

you walk to your cold kitchen, passing the laundry room and pantry. but maybe it was the hallucinating part that made you hear a thud coming from that direction.

you pause. noises were coming from either one of the rooms. maybe it's mice in the pantry. but that's very unlikely.

tip-toeing your way to the pantry, you open it. getting a clear view of the empty shelves and open box of cereal.

huh.

maybe you were hallucinating.

you sigh, slamming the pantry door in frustration. you should probably take the medication you were recommended.

"y/n, detka? is that you?"

your heart dropped.

you froze. blood running cold. hands clammy.

it was her voice.

you approached the door slowly, the door was slightly open. you could see a figure folding clothes. and then a glimpse of red hair.

you gasp, jump a little even.

you opened the door. mouth open, shocked.

she was alive. she looked alive. she's moving. she's smiling. she's folding clothes. she's no longer the dead body you mourned over.

"nat?" your voice was shaky.

she looked up, your eyes met hers.

you couldn't believe it. you had so many questions. she was right in front of you.

you shook your head. closing your eyes. tears were overflowing.

"hey, hey, you okay?" natasha cups your face. your eyes flutter, she's touching you.

"nat?" you sob.

"yes? why are you crying?" she asks. your mind went blank, you felt like you couldn't speak or breathe. "don't cry, hey don't cry. i'm right here."

those three words made you cry even more.

you hug her close, you hugged her so tightly. you were sobbing into her shoulder, tears were running down your eyes like waterfalls.

"nat. why." were the only words you said. you could feel her hug you tightly. "i'm here." she replies.

everything doesn't make sense anymore. but you don't care. natasha is back. she's hugging you, kissing your forehead. you're crying, sobbing, everywhere.

"don't cry, baby. i'm here." she wipes your tears.

"are you really?" your vision was getting blurry. not from tears. "nat?" you call out, your vision is getting worse. you couldn't make out natasha's face.

"nat!"

you jolt awake. hair all sweaty. dry tears were covering your cheeks.

you look around.

it's silent. and it was deafening.

"nat!" you jump from your bed. running out of your room to the laundry room. "nat?"

it was empty.

it wasn't real.

she wasn't there.

what did you ever do to deserve that? for your brain to come up with the most painful dream? the most painful, realistic dream?

it felt real.

you thought it was real.

but it never happened.

[sickficideas]

anyway you asked for sskk whump so I feel like it would be very very bad (/pos) if akutagawa were having a bad symptom day and then also had an anxiety attack

imagine strangled, too-fast little fish-out-of-water gasps in between endless coughing fits as his knees give out and he crumples to the ground, lips pale & eyes frantic, probably only semi-aware

imagine atsushi holding him up and rubbing circles on aku’s chest and trying his hardest to stay calm (it’s not working at all) because he can’t risk further upsetting his bf and making it worse and one of them needs to stay functional

this is so bad and so self indulgent I’m sorry

I LOVE this idea because Akutagawa absolutely struggles with extreme and completely unregulated anxiety and we even this in BSD, especially in dark era (his extreme reactions, hatred of being touched, etc) that I think he would often mistake for symptoms of his illness ...chest pains, struggling to breathe properly even if its just things not being able to take a full breath....he has this constant low buzz of anxiety but there are a lot of things that can set him off and turn things into an anxiety attack very quickly, Atsushi doesn't know any of those things because Akutagawa is SO HARD to read but also he's mistaking these signs ad symptoms of his illness too, he'll only realize halfway through that Akutagawa is having an anxiety attack and that it's only worse because of his illness, not caused by it😭😭😭😭

I'm hurt so much by the idea of Atsushi trying to calm him down, but it's so hard for Akutagawa to breathe through all of the coughing, he can't even get a proper breath in when he's really trying to💔😭😭

Akutagawa is so tired after, leaning on Atsushi's shoulder wherever they might be, Atsushi wants him to go lay down somewhere more comfortable so he can rest but he doesn't want to move him if he's already asleep 🥺🥺 Akutagawa pretends to sleep even if he's not tired because he's embarassed and he doesn't want Atsushi to say a word about what happened 😔😔😔😔💔💔

[animentality]

Isagi fans in the Blue Lock fandom are really getting on my nerves, mostly the way they say Rin sucks, Shidou sucks, Kaiser is a fraud, no one but Isagi is good at soccer -

Literally shut. the fuck. up.

I'm so tired of hearing every other goddamn character getting called terrible - I'm sorry, if Isagi is the ONLY character you like, just keep your mouth shut, then. Jerk off to his endless glazing and inevitable win as the MC and protagonist of the world, and stop harassing other people with your half a brain cell.

God for fucking bid this manga with hundreds of characters actually have content for any of those characters, when Isagi exists.

God forbid Shidou get a fucking goal or Rin beat Isagi again, or Isagi have any challenges at all.

These people, man. I know what they are. They're the same people who think genocidal dictator villain characters should "win" or that the MC is a "cuck" if they don't get the main girl at the end. They're a bunch of incel ass losers who just read manga bc they wanna project on the MC and circle jerk over this fantasy of themselves as better than anyone else ever, and fuck any character who isn't the MC.

Oh, I'd love to introduce them to deodorant and suppositories to fix their kidney stones.

[edutainer2022]

It's WIP Wednesday, so I'm gonna use some of my battery on a little thing, set after Jeff's return, I've been working on. There IS more to it I wanted to finish yesterday and today, but over 12 hour blackouts had a different plan.

***

Some days were worse than others. Some days the heady rush of pure JOY and BLISS of being back with his beloved boys, his Ma, in his own home, back on his own PLANET, beneath the blue skies, breathing unprocessed air... were not enough to tide him over the bone deep weariness. Days, when the bustling world around was suddenly too much effort. Too much, period.

That morning he woke up, gruff and bleary, feeling every ounce of gravity amplified weight down to his marrow. He didn't remember sleeping a wink, but he knew he was late. The corner of the blanket peeled away, catching on his stubble, revealed a silhouette perched on the side of his bed. Scott. Already dressed to the nines in a suit that looked like it was shipped straight from the Milan runway. It probably had been. His son's aftershave was fancier and more expensive than he could ever afford or had any clue to choose at that same age. Predawn light was casting a grey hue over Scott's features, gleaming in silver highlights, making him look older. Tired. His eldest looked hauntingly like Jeff felt, sagging under the crashing weight, stretched thin, even put together all sharp like that, bright and early. The sudden heartache of that thought came out as a hoarse groan.

They were supposed to meet several executives first thing in the morning to get Jeff up to speed a bit more. To get the company brass reacquainted with the Tracy Patriarch too. There were many new promotions and appointments over the past eight years. But Jeff could barely keep his eyes open. The thought of getting up and moving gave him a shiver, which, in turn, deepened the worried frown on Scott's face. The taut lines in the corners of his son's eyes and mouth became prominent. Much as the pallor and dark circles, belying a sleepless night. Scott took a call out in One, right off the roof of Tracy Tower. It was the fastest and most expedient option, regardless of Virgil's protests. That's how Jeff remembered most of his sleep being drained by nightmares - One screeching off and him spending eight endless years calculating and hoping (praying) the rocket plane made it out of the Zero-X launch blast radius in time, taking his son to safely far enough. He winced at the memory and squinted against a nauseating headache. Scott's worry was obviously reaching the red zone.

A firm hand landed on his shoulder, then moved to press for the pulse. His boy's fingers were uncharacteristically cold, but maybe Jeff was just catching space chills.

"Dad, are you alright? I will cancel the morning! I'll get you to the hospital right now, then Virgil will fly Grandma in!"

The on the go plan was all IR Commander, but blue eyes blown up twice the usual size in panic was Scotty at any given time Dad was about to disappear. Again. He hated the treacherous frailty that got his unwavering boy so scared. As much as he hated the very idea of hospitals, enthusiastically shared by all his children.

"It's okay, Bluejay! No need to worry! Just one of those days. I'll sleep it off. You go ahead with the meeting and I'll rise and shine to have brunch with you, deal?"

Between the Zero-XL assembly under wraps, the possibly one-way mission to the middle of the galactic nowhere, and Jeff's subsequent laborious rehabilitation, the Tracy Industries senior executives really needed some quality face time with the Tracy-in-charge. So they would have it. Jeff was under no illusion he was in any shape to be that, anymore. Scott was, still. But that would have to change maybe sooner, than they both wished, if mornings like that became a recurrent thing.

Scott didn't appear entirely convinced and there was definitely a ping being sent up to Five to monitor Jeff's space-addled sleeping hunk extra closely. However, the anxious scowl softened into warm mirth as Scott smiled down at Dad's rugged face. Cool fingers moved from the pulse point to brush away the matted grey curls from Jeff's forehead. The gesture was definitely well practiced on any and all of the younger brothers, but in that moment all Jeff could see in the slight tilt of the head and a special, radiant fondness in the blue gaze, was the boys' mother.

He nearly choked on a sob and covered his eyes, feigning a fit of cough. Scott moved immediately to give him a glass of water from the bedside table. Once done blinking away the stinging moisture, Jeff caught the tail end of a hastily covered wince in the boy's features. If he were operating at full capacity, he would have probably dug to the bottom of it with proper insistence. As it were, Jeff settled for a squeeze of the premium wool clad bicep:

"How're you holding up, son? Tough night?"

"I'm okay, Dad! You don't need to worry! A couple of bruises here and there. Mostly my ego, as I landed in a heap when the jetpack gave out. I'll never hear the end of it!"

The edges of Scott's "cheeky flyboy" smile were tighter than Jeff should have been placated with. But gravity was already pulling his lids down.

TBC

[edajcheel]

𝙱𝚎𝚜𝚝𝚏𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚗𝚍-𝚣𝚘𝚗𝚎𝚍

Summary: You, unknowingly, force a boy that is hopelessly in love with you, into the best friend zone.

Character(s) : Jade L. & Floyd L.

TW: Kind of hints along the line of a small-sized reader (in Jade's), may be some spelling, or grammar mistakes

None of these images belong to me.

＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚𝐽𝑎𝑑𝑒 𝐿𝑒𝑒𝑐ℎ.

Goodness, how cruel of you.

How cruel of you to throw his so obvious affections towards you away like how a certain person did to his carefully nourished fungus, and to add on to that, you did it with no hesitation or doubt.

But, he's so sure he's grown nearly accustomed and into a reasonable understanding of regular courting on this land?

Perhaps, it was the matter of his fault? Did he do something to accidentally wrong you?

What was it?— ..Best friend zoned, if he could recall

What a funny phrase, one that he was given no mercy to

Honestly, it truly did hurt when you said it so nonchalantly.

Oh? Did you think he would just give up so easily after this? You don't think him so sensitive, do you?

You misunderstood then, he's merely taking this as a sign to be a bit more.. honest with his courting.

His patience is endless, he will take his time to indulge in you and play as your "best friend", after that, he'll get tired of the title and quickly steal your heart this time.

He doesn't mind that your slow to pick up on his favor for you, he does go by the metaphor that– the longer it takes, the more satisfying it will be– after all.

"Finally, I'm back in action!" You haphazardly swing your right leg around, testing it to see if it's suitable to use again.

It ached only a little bit to your movement, but you could endure this much after all the amounts of crack and snap your leg has gone through.

"Your my savior, jaaade!" You sang, "Why is it that you're always the first one to help me out when I'm in trouble? Hehe!" It did feel embarrassing after every time you injured yourself, Jade would always come by to check up on you. But you could only sigh in dismay, and scratch the back of your head while you surrender yourself to him for his care.

"Is it so wrong for me to come by and check up on you?" He asked in confusion, as he paused from organizing his small medkit he bought by to look at you. "Oh no no, I just appreciate you for coming by and actually caring unlike SOME people." You rolled your eyes to the thought of that brain cell-less trio.

"No need to thank me, I don't mind taking care of you whenever your in need." He would most certainly be glad to, although you don't need to know that just yet.

You smiled up at him, how relieving it is to have an actual mature, and caring companion.

Suddenly, Jade turns his head towards you from his mini medkit to see you running up to him in a speed that would most likely be fit for a marathon race, although.. while limping.

"Oh—?" He's paralyzed as you circle your small, nimbly little arms around him, engulfing him into a hug. He couldn't help but smile at your endearment and replicated your hug.

"Your the bestest friend I could ever have! Better than those snobbish boys..."

Ah.

The silence is enough to hear a pin drop, the air unnaturally becomes stiff and cold. Jade's expression is unknown to you as you hug him, tightly.

"Is that so? I'm quite honored."

He looks down at you with the same ol' gentle smile of his, too bad you don't notice how insincere it is.

❃.✮:▹ ʄʟօʏɖ ʟɛɛƈɦ.

You're real funny, shrimpy.

.... Do you think his feelings for you are just a joke? Who do you think you are to just place his feelings for you the same level as waste?

He really likes you, shrimpy. He really likes, likes, likes, and even loves you.

Why don't you just accept it? Why do you have to be so difficult >:(

You know that he likes you, don't you? He's been going in and out buying you small trinkets and giving you his full attention every day of the week! You aren't that dumb to not notice right? He's practically smothering you with his love!

Even Jade said so, you're one of the few things on his list that he would put his utmost effort in..

Well... He is happy that you think he's better than all those small frys, but he knows he could be more than that.

You obviously like him back, he's just convinced your too much of a small head to confess first. That's why he's going to be the one to confess! But, you never EVER noticed his hints!

It's so frustrating.

Kani-chan said something stupid yesterday. He said that Shrimpy "Best-friend zoned" him. Hehe, Kani-chan went to the nurse with a bleeding nose. It was the most dumbest thing he's ever heard from Kani-chan, he deserved it.

... If Shrimpy isn't going to budge and actually confess to him soon— he won't be so tolerable as he is now. He's been too kind.

Quick, high-pitched squeaks from shoes vibrate through the court, with the hard thumps of the basketball hitting the ground. The cheers of the audience tops it off like a cherry on a cake.

"Go Floyd Leech, Go Floyd Leech, MY BALLER!" You screamed as loud as you can while waving a banner that says, 'Number 10 lowkey fire 🫢' To be a true friend, is to show your support! In regards to that, you went to every basketball game of Floyd's and sought out to be the loudest at the bleachers.

Floyd saw your cute attempt to rile him up, and right you did! You filled him with adrenaline like every game and brought him to his A game every time. His amazing, cute, and squeezable shri—

"This one is for you, Shrimpy!" He yelled, and quickly shook of his guarder, tripping them over. He stomped and bounced the ball easily while avoiding other opponents. Then, swishh, he jumped higher than he'd ever did, higher than the net itself, just to see that face of amazement you make.

He could never get tired of that face.

Thump! The ball bounced on impact to the ground after falling through the net, right on time to the buzzer. 39 to 10. Mannn, Floyd was adamant on getting to 40 this time.. Whatever, that could wait another day— besides! He has something waaay more important to handle.

"Floooyyydd! My baller!" He could see you running up to him from a distance, he stood, ready for the impact.

You instantly hug him when you get close enough to, "Ahh! Shrimmppy, did you see that awesome shot I did for you?" He giggled, with his sparkly, sharp teeth in display.

"Of course I did! You're literally the best for that!" You nudge him on the shoulder, "Here's a gift to congratulate your awesomeness!" You shove it onto his chest, excited for his reaction.

"Shrimpy got me a gift?~ Finally some well-deserved attention—"

"Whaaaat? Where's my reward, Y/n?" You turn your head to where the voice is coming from just to see Ace. "Huh, you don't deserve no 'reward', Ace." You said, while pulling out your tongue at him.

"Huh? Why?? I tried my best too, ya'know. You even saw!" Ace replied in defense, while you roll your eyes. "Ay, I'm your friend too!" You could only look at your nails in disinterest, but you giggled jokingly afterwards.

"Not as much as Floyd! He's my best buddy!"

"What! I've known you longer than he did!" Ace put his hand on his chest dramatically.

'Best buddy'?

Floyd stood still, his arms drooping down his sides, your gift still in hand unopened.

He stared at you two playfully exchanging non-physical blows, with a blank look. No expression, just pure... disinterest? Perhaps.

"Hey, Floyd, you good?" Ace speaks up about his silence as both of you turned to him.

".... Do you really think that, Shrimpy?"

You arched your brow in puzzlement, "What?"

......

Kani-chan stands for Crab-chan which is Floyd's nickname for Ace.

OH AND DON'T CALL ME BIASED FOR MAKING FLOYD'S LONGER... I LOVE THEM BOTH EQUALLY IT'S JUST CAUSE I HAD MORE IDEAS FOR FLOYD YKKKKK I STILL LOVE JADDDDEE PLUS I WROTE A FANFIC WITH JADE AND SEBASTIAN MICHAELISSS. 🫨🫨🫨🫨🫨

[veliseraptor]

actually though you know what, possibly the thing that drives me most insane about the feelings yakuza lurking about in mdzs fandom, specifically those dedicated to a really, really shallow moral dichotomy, is the way that. okay. how do I say this.

one of the things I found so deeply refreshing about getting into mdzs, and mxtx's other novels, when I did (and also the cnovels I've read in general, tbh), was getting into a text that seemed on first blush tailor-made to work for my general love of morally questionable characters who do bad things who are in awful situations often with no good solutions, and my specific distaste for both (a) morally didactic storytelling and (b) morality-obsessed fandom.

surely, thought I, this fandom, coming from a canon where the protagonist has done absolutely hideous things to people and presumably that's not a deal breaker, can be reasonable about not taking "did this character do bad things: if yes, then bad character must die, if no, then good character perfect angel" as the beginning, middle, and end of the matter. surely! finally, a place where I can lay down my arms and my weary head, cease bearing endless arguments about who's right or who's bad and who you're allowed to like, because, you know, surely it's obvious that's not the point here

and then. and then.

it just feels like, you know, finally feeling like I had a little corner of fandom where I could just roll around in people being terrible and coping badly with their problems and have the conversation not be dominated by circle-jerking about moral correctness, because that's what the text itself seemed to be actively disinterested in doing, and then here come a whole bunch of fucking clowns hellbent on making everything about morality all over again.

and I truly cannot overstate how much I don't care about that as a lens of "analysis" (to give it a generous name), but I also cannot overstate how much it feels like everybody thinks I should care, and how tiring it is to feel like I'm once again just soaking in a downpour of people yelling about how morally upright and correct they are when like. I came here specifically because I, foolishly, thought this wasn't what we were going to be doing.

i'm just extremely fucking tired and it feels like things have been particularly rancid lately. which sure sucks the joy out of doing things like "writing fic" let me tell you

[waters-and-the-wilde]

ooooh but the way they're setting up for a coming home arc tho.

I mean I'm a little conflicted bc having them Get Out of Hyperion City was such a triumph and even though they've technically been running around the galaxy since S3 the actual running around the galaxy bits felt a little sporadic. and I was really here for the parts where Juno was like 'hey you can miss something without actually wanting it back.' obv the whole 'Always Running Never Looking Back' thing was untenable from day one, but this whole time I haven't been ready to go back to Hyperion City. (for a minute there between WLB1 and Clean Break I'd had my heart set on the three of them following Jet around in the Ruby bc home isn't a place and there are endless menacing institutions to fuck up while in the company of the people you love.)

Going Back isn't necessarily what I hoped for but I'm seeing how that might turn out to be the logical conclusion and it is with gruDgiNG aCcepTAnce that I can see that being the most appropriate narrative choice given how much Home has been a theme this whole goddamn show. I gotta think they're toying with something interesting in the vein of Returning Changed, getting a full-circle parallel to FRP, also curious for a callback or more thoughts on Juno's Andromeda motif. like. can he Go Home? in a way that it's the Right Call? what does it mean if he Can? who's he gonna be if he Does?

and then there's our Thief Without A Home. i mean. I'm also not particularly interested in a 'settling down ever after' type narrative for them bc of who they are as people (they Need Shenanigans your honor). but. i mean they could still go pick fights with cyber-mobsters in Newtown. I could see it working if there's a focus on the idea of belonging and not just falling back on the usual model of domesticity. also i have already pictured This Conversation.

Juno: (scared shitless about the idea that this might be a dealbreaker after Everything) look before we get ahead of ourselves or anything. now that you're out from under their thumbs i need you to know I can't do the whole. running around the galaxy thing. like I should have told you the first time around. I can't actually do that forever and I'm not gonna ask you to stop if that's what you see yourself doing from here on out.

Nureyev (scared shitless that Juno's breaking up with him Now, After Everything): you don't. you don't mean you -

Juno: Rita and I want to go back to Hyperion City. not sure what we're doing yet, but I miss it and she misses Frannie and we're both ready to go home.

Nureyev:

Juno: and. there could be a place for you there too. if you wan-

Nureyev (has already thrown himself to the floor and flung his arms around Juno's knees): oh thank fuck please take me home with you i have been running for twenty years i am so tired

Juno (voice breaks): you're getting your own room to keep your stuff in and you can't hoard all the drinking glasses