#just chatting to the void don't mind me

[perkeleen-lavellan]

I despise the discordification of fandom.

I would actually like to engage with other fans of weird shit and blorbos on social media regularly, instead of needing to join ten discord servers all with their own unique rules for proper conduct and often some super random buckwild social anxiety inducing rules, cliques and mod favouritism, in order to discuss why I ship the pale disaster vampire with my insane murderer OC.

[clockworktea]

increasingly coming to the conclusion that the actual reason having irl friends is important is to be able to have a space where discussing Complex Current Events is fully optional but also if you do want to just chat through how you're feeling about it you can all take basic statements like 'people dying is bad' as assumed without having to state that out loud and worry about how the omnipresent invisible audience who are looking for a fight will twist it

social media's pressure to have an opinion about everything isn't exactly new but hell if it doesn't wear on me more every year

[literaila]

jealousy

gojo satoru x fem!reader

summary: satoru doesn't like the way the barista is looking at you

a/n: figured i'd give you all a little fluff (save me from this void)

last part | next part

*

year five.

“megumi, go get your mom.” 

satoru and megumi are sitting in a crowded cafe, saving your spot, waiting for you to come back. 

while the sun coming in through the window satoru is sitting across from is partially blinding him, he can still see you. 

you, trying to order, being ogled by the barista who's been granted the pleasure of speaking to you. your smile is normal--to satoru's obvious disdain--and you don't even seem to mind the man's obvious flirting. 

(not that it really means much. when satoru leans in like that, you just push him away. when he swoons at the way you've done your hair on any specific day, you just roll your eyes. 

so maybe you're not the best judge of flirting. or attraction. or how to reject a tiny schoolboy, like the one you're talking to.)

satoru's only been watching this interaction for thirty seconds, but he's had enough. 

“why?” megumi turns, looking back at you. “she’s getting us hot chocolate.” 

satoru sighs, no care in the world. can't the kid ever listen to him? “go hold her hand then.” 

“why?” 

“because.” 

“but why?” 

satoru gives megumi a (pathetic) glare. “listen to me, young man," he tries to say it like you would--if megumi ever denied any of your requests--but it doesn't work. satoru has to try not to laugh directly after the words are out of his mouth. 

so what if he doesn't want you talking to that kid? he's just looking out for you. 

megumi's brows raise. he looks... almost amused. “what’s wrong with you? you go hold her hand.” 

satoru hangs his head. you told him to sit here and keep the table for all of you, told him to watch megumi and not do anything stupid--which, to be fair, is difficult for him. so he can't go get you (save you).

and plus, he doesn't want you to know that he cares. if you like that kid--with his stupid dark hair and eyes and soft smile and obvious heart eyes--then he doesn't want to know. 

and if he goes up to you, he'll know. 

“i can’t," he tells megumi, instead of saying any of that. the boy would just cackle in his face. 

“are you scared?” megumi asks, very seriously, as if satoru is afraid of anything. 

(besides you falling for someone else, of course. but that doesn't count). 

he looks over to the kid again, who you're chatting idly with as you search through your purse. he wonders if you're telling the barista that you spend every night in his bed, making out with him until your lips are puffy. 

if he keeps smiling at you like that satoru is going to get up and tell him himself. 

satoru scoffs, looking away finally, back to megumi who looks thoroughly entertained by his father's pain. he crosses his arms. “no.” 

megumi shrugs, looking back again. seriously, satoru should've kicked him out when he had the chance. he probably would've been fine with the zenin clan. probably. 

“well, i’m not doing it," the boy says, with obvious satisfaction. 

if only tsumiki was here. satoru never should've let megumi ditch school, or let him come with you both to get coffee. tsumiki would help him. she probably would've asked you to get yakitori instead and satoru could listen to you try to make small talk with a waitress instead of that guy. 

“megumi fushiguro,” satoru begins, voice rough. “do you want your mother to live in a rat-infested apartment with a random, cesspit man, and several tiny babies running around all of the time? tiny wimpy babies? normal, human babies. you’ll have to stay over there and share a bed with multiple infants who will spit up on you.”

megumi blinks. “what are you even talking about?” 

“go stand next to her," satoru hisses, because he swears he can hear your laugh from across the cafe, and honestly he's never wanted to destroy an establishment more. 

and that's saying something. 

at least the man would be without a job and satoru would never have to see him push his hair back and tilt his head at you again. 

megumi looks back again like it's going to explain anything satoru does, and he smirks. “that guy doesn’t look too bad.” 

satoru's jaw clenches. “i will mismatch all of your socks.” 

megumi scowls at him. "all of my socks are the same, after last time." 

satoru huffs and leans back against his chair, pouting. "what did i do to deserve this?"

“do you think mom likes him?” megumi asks, voice so innocent it makes satoru want to shave his hair off. 

“go.” 

megumi blinks at him, tilting his head. yeah, he's really putting on an act now. “but she said to wait here," he reminds satoru like it matters. 

“tell her you missed her, or something," satoru goes to wave a hand, but his hand only clenches when he physically sees you laugh at the man. you're not even ordering now, you're just standing there (waiting for their drinks) talking to the guy. 

“you tell her you missed her," megumi retorts, enjoying satoru's one and only weakness. 

"no." 

"she's laughing," megumi points out, resting his chin on a hand. "and it's rude to interrupt grown-ups when they talk."  

“megumi,” satoru begs, hating the weird, annoying feeling in his chest. he wants to dig his own heart out and yell at it. “please.” 

megumi is basically smirking at him now, waiting for a beat longer for satoru to really break--and seriously kill every person within a ten-mile radius--but eventually, right before it happens, the boy sighs. his eyes are evil, evil things. 

"fine," he tells satoru, rolling his eyes. he stands up from his hair and pats satoru on the shoulder like it will make up for anything. the boy has the worst smile satoru's ever seen in his life. 

and then he makes his way through the line of people--seriously, this guy is a terrible barista--and taps you on your waist, going to stand right up against the counter. megumi says something to you--you will all of your charm, and your irresistible smiles--and you hold a hand out to him, which he grabs immediately. 

your smile, satoru notices with immense relief, shifts on instinct. it goes from something formal and polite to something genuine. you look down at your son and the barista you've been talking to for the last minute is completely irrelevant. 

and satoru takes great satisfaction in the way the kid's eyes widen, and the instinctual step back he takes--like he knows that satoru is going to hurt him if he continues to lean over the counter towards you. 

satoru relaxes, watching you ask megumi something, but only slightly. 

and after a second you turn your head, raising a brow at him. 

the little brat. 

satoru just smiles--offering you more than some shotty barista ever could--and leans back in his chair. 

* 

“why are you being so weird today?” 

satoru’s chin is on your head, and even though you can’t see his smile, it falters, just a little bit. "don't know what you're talking about." 

"you're sticky." 

"i just showered." 

"okay," you say, turning and rolling your eyes at satoru's pout. instantly his hands go to your waist, keeping you right there with him. "first of all, no you didn't. and i didn't mean literally. you're... clingy. more clingy than usual." 

"i can't want to be around you?"

you give him a blank stare. "not when you're being weird about it." 

"how am i being weird?" 

"how aren't you?" 

satoru grins, leaning his head down to push his nose into your cheek. you smell like something sweet--something he'd devour in an instant--but he's not sure what. he doesn't even care. he doesn't answer that question, only hums into your skin. 

"see what i mean?" 

"it's not my fault that you're comfy." 

"oh, im so sorry," you say, fake pity in your voice. "let me just turn myself into stone real quick." 

satoru rolls his eyes, pulling back just so he can see the amused look on your face--yeah, he knows that you don't actually care. but the more he hangs onto you, the more affection he shows, the warier you get. 

and that's perfectly fine with him, actually. as long as you don't push him away.  

"please do," he says, so genuinely. "it would make this a lot easier." 

"make what a lot easier?" you ask, voice a bit softer. maybe it's because he's looking at you now, actually looking. 

and satoru knows, really knows, that there's not a single other person in the world who you look at like this. there's not another man that you'd let sniff you, no other man that would dare to irritate you the way that he loves to. 

satoru's worked several years to get you to be this comfortable, this easy around him. and even if there was someone else--he wouldn't give you up without a fight. 

you're his in a way that transcends labels or reality.

still, he doesn't answer that question (because you already know). he only smiles a bit more, leans in, and basks in the way your lips mold to his immediately. 

*

next part | series masterlist

[yappingwitch]

The art of winning her back

pairing - James Potter x fem!reader

summary - On his quest to capture the heart of his long-time crush, Lily Evans, James must first win her friend (Y/N) over despite their shared history.

warnings - angst, bullying, friends to enemies to lovers, child neglect and death of a parent (briefly), swearing, slowburn, use of (Y/N)

wordcount - 3k

disclaimer - english is my second language. Don't hesitate to correct me!

part 1

You and James had known each other your entire lives, a friendship somewhat foisted upon you by your parents, whose own friendship dates back to their Hogwarts days. That’s at least how James perceived your relationship: imposed upon him by the suffocating weight of your parents' past.

Sure, James was never outright mean to you. He was still your friend, after all. Though he couldn’t help but ridicule your overenthusiastic nature, with your ramblings and frantic waving of your hands whenever you spoke. Often throwing jabs at you, you none the wiser. He disliked you yet still felt some measure of sympathy for you. A charity case, yes - that was what you were to him, with no other friends to guide you and your parents perpetually away at work, leaving you yearning for connection and always acting as if you couldn't function without continually sticking by his side. So he'd accept his fate with a sigh and take your hand whenever you became frightened by the thunder during one of your countless sleepovers or pretended to battle dark wizards with you using sticks, indulging in whatever you devised next. Of course, you never truly noticed it for what it was. To you, he was the brightest spot in your life, the sweetest friend you could ever wish for.

As the years rolled by, you continued to treasure this friendship, even if it sometimes felt like James was dragging his feet. He was your best and only friend, and in your heart, that was more than enough.

Things first changed when he left for Hogwarts. He was off having extraordinary adventures while you were left behind, grappling with a new void in your life, yearning for his return. You clung to the habit of writing to him, pouring out every random thought that crossed your mind in long letters. His replies were always brief and generic, but you didn’t mind, simply grateful to hear from your best friend.

After probably the longest year of your life, only getting to see James during the holidays, summer break finally ended, marking your first year at Hogwarts and reuniting you with James all year aound. You stood on the train platform with his parents, eyes bright with anticipation. Euphemia pressed a kiss on both your cheeks and pulled you into a hug, his dad quickly joining in as well. The two of you departed on your journey to find an empty carriage, eagerly waving at James’s parents from your seats as soon as the train whistle sounded, announcing the train’s departure. You practically melted into his side during the train ride, linking your arm with his and chatting incessantly, only letting go when you dashed off for the trolley that held piles of candy, babbling to the lady as you did.

Just as you settled back down, your pockets now stuffed with all kinds of sweets, one already grasped in your hand, happily munching on it, the compartment door slid open once more. Three boys stood there, relief seemingly washing over their faces as they quickly greeted James, sitting down across from you both. It was then that their gazes shifted to you, immediately recognizing who you were - James must have complained about you at least once a week, and by your appearance, they may finally have understood why.

The trio couldn’t hold back their giggles at the sight: you, with chocolate smeared on your cheek, bouncing with joy, while James looked like he was stuck in a perpetual state of embarrassment, cheeks flushed. Oblivious to his discomfort (as you often were), you rambled on about how excited you were to begin Hogwarts, speaking at a hundred miles per hour, until all the sugar finally sent you into a deep state of sleep. All of them sighed in relief at the moment of peace, despite your continued grip on James’s poor arm. You only loosened it up once you entered Hogwarts castle, too stunned to speak for once or to notice James quietly slipping away. You just wordlessly joined the other first-years at the front of the school while the rest of the students sat down at their designated houses, chatter filling the room.

You'd sight dramatically whenever a name that wasn't yours was called up, growing more and more anxious by the second, already missing James by your side.

“(Y/N) (L/N)!” Professor McGonagall finally called out, her voice ringing through the hall. Finally. You skipped up to the stool, your heart thudding in your chest as McGonagall lowered the hat, blocking part of your vision with its size. You didn’t care, though, only trying to focus on the hat’s words.

“Gryffindor!” exclaimed its gruff voice, your face immediately breaking into the biggest grin - not only because you had made it into the house of bravery but because you were in the same house as James. The Gryffindor table erupted in a roar of applause, customary for new housemates, but one disgruntled figure groaned loudly instead, covering his face in exasperation.

As you approached the table, your voice rang out bright and cheerful. “James! I can’t believe you didn’t save me a seat!” You pouted, but then your expression brightened as you realized he had no clue you’d end up in Gryffindor either, immediately excusing him in your mind. “I can’t wait to tell Dad about this! He’ll be thrilled. Everyone thought I’d end up in Hufflepuff - way to prove them wrong! Not that there’s anything wrong with Hufflepuff, but I always wished for Gryffindor… hm… or maybe Ravenclaw! That'd really show—”

“You’re rambling again,” he interrupted your whirlwind of excitement.

“You’re right! You’re always right! You better save me a seat next time. Although I don't really mind too much; I passed this really nice group of girls on my way to you. I can't wait to make some new friends!” You began pointing somewhere. “Did you see the redheaded girl? I think she's from your year; she's so pretty—”

“Alright…” James said, interrupting your rambling once again, sending a small glare to the black haired boy sitting across from, hearing him cover up a choked laughter with a caugh.

You, none the wiser, flashed him a beaming smile before scampering off to join the girls at the very top of the table, blissfully unaware that this would mark the second real shift in your friendship with James.

It all began with pranks - silly, harmless little acts that felt like a natural progression of your friendship - joint efforts with his new friends. You never minded this side of him because it was how James expressed his affection, so you thought. Whether it was hexing your hair a wild shade of purple or causing you to trip on your way to class, there was always laughter shared between you, and you felt like you were starting to bond not just with James again, but with his friend group. Sometimes James would show remorse afterward a particular nasty prank, mainly when he got caught, and would often beg you to bail him out of detention with McGonagall, and you always obliged.

But as time went on, a growing irritation began to simmer within you. You would never dare admit it, feeling guilt whenever a mean thought flashed through your mind after another prank. After all, James was your best friend.

Once winter break rolled around, you felt nervous for the first time around him, having barely spent one-on-one time together since the day of the sorting. Yet, each day spent together melted away all your worries. James was finally all yours again, and after spending every day together, you remained blissfully unaware of the growing tension between you both. With renewed faith in your friendship, you allowed the Marauders to continue their taunts happily for years to come, quietly awaiting the holidays to begin anew, where everything was like before. You could deal with that.

Or so you thought, until a seemingly ordinary Saturday, your third year at the school almost over, excited to spend summer with James, a prank sent everything spiraling out of control. It was no worse than the others. In fact, it was quite the opposite - it was almost uncharacteristically harmless, but it triggered something deep within you, and your patience finally bubbled over. The anger towards James began to seep out of you, much like ink from a quill that has just exploded in your face. Staring back at you were hours of studying made redundant, your notes stained, ink splatters glaring back instead of your carefully constructed sentences. You looked around the abandoned library helplessly, your mind not registering what had just happened until you heard laughter - his laughter.

The other boys with him soom joining in too, echoing throughout the usually quiet room as they emerged from their hiding place. As their laughter continued, you let out a humorless giggle, still not comprehending the situation, which quickly made them stop theirs. They exchanged silent glances before breaking out in even louder laughter and walking off after being chastised by the librarian.

Oh.

Oh.

Your smile faded as the realisation settled in. They weren’t laughing with you.

They were laughing at you.

Without giving it a second thought, you marched back to the Gryffindor tower, stopping by the bathroom in hopes of salvaging some of your materials, not even attempting to save your notes, as they were a lost cause. Everything felt heavy, almost suffocating. The familiar laughter filled your ears once again as you entered the common room. Raising your gaze from the fixated stare you had on your shoes, you looked at the boys lounging without a care in the world. Their amusement was unmistakably still directed at you, especially when they saw your blouse - a massive wet spot adorning the white fabric along the ink, your pathetic attempt at scrubbing the stains away.

Ignoring the feelings threatening to bubble up, you bolted to the girls' dormitory, shutting the door with a thud. Your eyes burned and your cheeks flushed in humiliation. You angrily chucked your bag to the floor, your now-stained possessions scattering. Looking around, you saw the startled faces of the other girls, which made your face flush even more, and you quickly bent down, trembling hands trying to gather your things.

Then you felt gentle hands steady your own. Looking up, you met Lily Evans’ bright green eyes, filled with concern and her brows furrowed together, a frown gracing her lovely face.

After a moment of silence, seemingly contemplating how to approach what had just occurred, she settled on saying, “I was going to ask if everything’s okay, but I guess that’s redunda.” A gentle smile blossomed on her face.

Without a word, you threw your arms around Lily’s neck, your eyes glazing over. Dorcas and Marlene, who were the only ones with Lily currently in the room, also sprang to attention. As you struggled to hold back your emotions, your gaze met the other girls’ stares, and you felt everything spill over. Tears fell without warning - an unexpected release of pent-up frustration, sadness, and hurt.

You let go of Lily, wiping your eyes with fervor. Silence enveloped the room until you finally calmed down, regaining control of your emotions as swiftly as possible while Lily gently rubbed your back. Marlene also sitting down by your side, while dorcas sat up on her bed.

“Alright, who do I have to beat up?” Dorcas declared, her tone playful yet sincere, breaking through the heaviness that loomed in the room.

That pulled a watery laugh from you, especially seeing Marlene reprimand the girl for her violent tendencies, though a smile was evident on her face, secretly having similar thoughts. Lily quietly giggled at the scene alongside you.

So you shared everything about the pranks (or bullying, as Lily later dubbed it), James, and everything that had weighed down on you.

When you finally finished your rambling, all listening patiently, the room grew quiet once more. You dreaded their reactions - why, you didn’t know - but anxiety filled your body.

Then, without warning, they erupted into a burst of chatter, voices blending together in a comforting chorus until Marlene decided to take the lead, shushing the other two.

“Well… you know… that’s horrible of him… but… you know, we were all aware he’s kind of—”

“He’s a twat,” Dorcas chimed in.

“I’m not a fan of profanity, but for lack of a better term…” Lily added, grinning as she looked at you, easing your worries. Sudden realisation flashing in her eyes as she quickly got out her wand, pointing it at you, ridding you of the stains.

Your eyes glazed over once more, but this time not out of the anger you felt earlier, Marlene and Lily quickly engulfing you. Dorcas joined in aswell, after Marlene dragged her from her spot on the bed, laughter engulfing the room.

You always felt a shift would come after starting Hogwarts, a new stage of life, but nothing could have prepared you for the transformation that awaited you as summer rolled around - a summer without your best friend. Your room, once a cozy sanctuary, suddenly felt juvenile, each item reminding you of a bond that had frayed. You grew quieter, noticing the judgmental looks from your parents - expressions that mirrored James'.

Lily's letters provided solace, each note including snippets of her life - from the latest Muggle songs to inviting you over for movie nights. Her letters, and those from the others, brought vibrancy back into your world, replacing the dullness that had seeped into your days. You spent countless hours running around with Marlene and Dorcas in Diagon Alley, laughing at every trinket you discovered, scouring through every store you could find, and enjoying the thrill of new experiences. You were rediscovering joy that had long been absent, even without realizing it.

While you occasionally saw James, considering your parents and the close proximity of your homes, he didn’t seem to mind the shift in your dynamic - if he even noticed a change outside of your lack of clinginess, you weren't sure.

By the time fourth year arrived, the pranks that had once been a staple of your interactions faded entirely - nothing felt more potent than the harsh words Lily had directed at James, her words carrying a weight you didn't fully comprehend, yet appreciated nonetheless. He appeared to almost forget you existed, and you were okay with that.

At the end of fifth year, you suddenly vanished, even though school still continued for another month. A sorrow engulfed your life once more when your mother passed away unexpectedly during ministry business - classified. The loss struck deeply, leaving you grappling with emotions you weren’t sure how to manage. Your relationship with her had always felt strained, but her absence was a stark reminder that you'd never have the relationship with her you dreamed of.

Back home, you found comfort in the Potters’ company, excluding James, leaning on Euphemia and your Hogwarts friends to help you through your grief. Your father, overwhelmed by sorrow, struggled to connect with you, and not even your shared pain brought you closer. Instead, it pushed him further away, so when you received a letter from your grandmother from France inviting you to stay with her during the next two months, you eagerly accepted.

This was the first summer that you wouldn't see James at all, not that you minded. His lost friendship had become an afterthought at this point as you tried to navigate your new life.

James only got a proper look at you again at the start of his seventh year. Everything had shifted once more, but this time it felt different. James was now Quidditch Captain and Prefect, determined to make this year - his last - his best by finally asking Lily out, having realized his crush on her in year five, which she largely dismissed at first, considering his past behavior. But he could see (and he knew she could too) that her feelings toward him were starting to shift, recognizing his attempts at bettering himself. So he was confident in his plan to ask Lily to the upcoming Celestial Ball, believing he had finally won her over. Everything seemed perfectly set - that was until Soren Howell, a year six chaser on the team, sat down across from him with an uncharacteristic frown adorning his face.

“What’s got you all gloomy, pretty boy?” asked sirius, who sat beside James, with a smirk looking at Soren, ripping a piece of half-eaten bread from his plate and throwing it at him.

Soren’s frown only deepened. “I asked (Y/N) to the ball,” Soren announced, frustration clear in his voice. “But she said no - some other guy beat me to it."

Hold up. “(Y/N)?” James repeated. “(Y/N) (L/N)?” A puzzled look crossed his face.

Soren simply nodded, bitterness still evident as he continued to sulk.

A million questions raced through James's mind, but most importantly: When did you return? He had assumed you'd finish your studies at Beauxbatons, not seeing you at yesterdays sorting ceremony. Well, right after—

“Are you taking the piss?” Sirius chimed in, laughing loudly. “You need to raise your standards, mate.”

Soren looked up from his plate, disbelief washing over him. “I like her,”

This made James start to laugh as well. While he generally left much of the juvenile behavior behind, partly for Lily but also genuinely growing as a person, he couldn't believe you had not one, but two people pining after you on the very first day back - especially someone like Soren, who was, as much as it pained James to admit, quite the handsome fellow.

“You like her? What’s there to like? I mean - ow!”

A hand suddenly shoved James hard on the back of the head, pain radiating through his skull, and the tips of his unruly dark hair now tainted with the soup in front of him. He grunted angrily, turning awkwardly in his seat to glare at the perpetrator - Dorcas.

Before he could even utter “detention” - a privilege of his Prefect position - his gaze shifted to the girl beside her, her arm linked with Dorcas’s, an uninterested expression on her pretty face as she muttered something to Dorcas while tugging on the taller girl’s arm. James rendered speechless, not recognising the beautiful girl hanging onto Dorcas. Once his gaze shifted toward her Gryffindor tie, his confusion only grew - Was she new? He'd surely recognise someone like her, especially with Sirius by his side who probably tried to chat up every pretty girl, heck even pretty boy, in their school.

Dorcas raised an eyebrow at his prolonged pause, following his gaze and realizing the cause. She scoffed, tugging the girl closer to her.

This made him rip his gaze from her, turning it back to Dorcas, his anger returning.

“What’s it to you?” “Talk about her again, and I will castrate you,” Dorcas declared quickly.

“Her?”

Dorcas looked at him in confusion, then nodded her head in your direction; you, in turn, started to tug on her arm again, annoyance now evident on your face.

“(Y/N)?” he uttered dumbly, at the same time as another voice called out to you.

The beautiful redhead walked on your other side, linking her arm with yours as well.

“Why don’t you get goi-” she started, but then saw who Dorcas and you were talking to, frowning at James with clear disappointment and a look he hadn’t seen from her since he started his journey to woo her - that of genuine dislike. Lily quickly dragged you both away without a word, turning back to glare at James once more on the way to their seats at the dinner table.

It was then and there that James realized - if he wanted Lily, he needed to win you over once again. This new you who suddenly had the prettiest eyes and air of confidence around her. This new you who now looked at him with hatred.

[studentinpursuitofclouds]

Hi there, i feel like our spouse doesn't react much to all the magical weirdness on our farm

Can i get some hc for Sdv+sve spouses one day waking up and being able to see an army of juminos recolting crops (farmer have like 4/6 juminos huts and lots of crops)

And the farmer just say "oh you can finally see them" while giving the juminos some raisins.

Heya 👋 Thank you for your ask, dear anon! (and I apologize for taking a little longer to answer 😅).

_________________________________________

SDV/SVE bachelors:

Alex can't believe his own ears! Spirits? For real? No way! The athlete dropped everything and quickly walked over to one of the Junimo and started poking at them, causing the little creature to squeak. "Alex, don't be rude. At least offer them raisins first." "Oh, sorry..." But he can't help himself because... a real spirits!

"Hey hon, I made you coffee-" Stepping out onto the front porch of the farm house, Shane found an army of apples with eyes and arms and legs following Farmer around like little chickens following mama hen. With a "fuck this shit, I'm out" face, he walked back home, thinking it was all from lack of sleep.

Sam's eyes nearly popped out of his orbits when he saw Farmer surrounded by apple-like creatures that were jumping and reaching for the raisins in Farmer's hands. The guitarist approached his spouse with an obvious question, but his stomach rumbled treacherously. "Do you have any raisins left for me?" Breakfast first, question later.

"Huh." That was all Sebastian expressed as he treated Junimo to some raisins. This creatures kinda cute, actually. "Sebby, dear, didn't it surprise you at all?" *Sebastian looks at the huge slime hutch, the coop with void chickens, the giant golden clock and the four tall warp obelisks* "Nah, not really, why?"

Not believing his own eyes, Harvey wiped his glasses and looked again, but what he saw before him had not changed. Farmer was still standing over the strange leaf house, and the apple-like creatures were still jumping around them. The doctor felt a little uneasy. He wants to ask. At the same time, he doesn't want to ask anything, lest he break his mind completely.

At first Elliott couldn't understand why there were different apples lying around his spouse. Red, yellow, green... blue and purple? Until those apples had eyes, arms and legs. "Good morning, Elliott, did you sleep well?" Apparently not, because the writer feels that sleep deprivation is making him see some... jumping apples.

Why would Magnus be surprised by the existence of Junimo? In fact, he's the one who introduced Farmer to these creatures. Interest in how his spouse had made friends quickly with the forest spirits, yes, but surprised? He is a wizard, he'd seen more stranger things than that in his life.

Well, that.... explains why Farmer refused Victor's advice to hire some helpers for the farm. Turns out his beloved spouse already has helpers... Little, apple-like helpers. Victor knows magic exists, but he didn't think he'd see something like this in real life. This is great, actually. Very interesting.

Does Lance see Junimo? *Chuckle* Of course, dear Farmer, and not only does he see them, but he even managed to ask the little forest spirits a few questions. For a good portion of raisins, because they love this treat so much. When else would the gallant adventurer have a chance to chat with Junimos, hm?

_________________________________________

SDV/SVE bachelorettes:

It had been about half a minute, and Maru couldn't let go of the idea that what she was seeing was the work of magic, and not Farmer's little robotic assistants. Magic, spirits... No, that somehow doesn't fit in her head. She's determined to study these 'Junimos' to see who or what they are. Erm, if the Farmer and the creatures themselves don't mind, of course.

You know that state when you have a lot of conflicting emotions bubbling up inside you, you don't know how to react to your own cognitive dissonance about the "magic" that is right in front of your eyes, but you try to stay positive for the sake of the person you love? That's what Penny was experiencing when her spouse was showing her forest spirits.

"Oh, so cute!" Abigail has a bit of magic in her, so of course she can see Junimo too. She's in awe of these forest creatures! And they are such wonderful helpers, harvesting the crops. "My spouse pays you well, yeah?" And the little Junimos jump around happily with tasty raisins in their little hands.

"Eeew! What is tha- Ah, okay, at least it's not rats." Apparently Haley can excuse cute magical forest spirits, but she draws the line when it comes to rats. Because she's terrified of those rodents, yuck. Junimos at least help her beloved Farmer with work, and they smell like forest freshness.

Merciful Yoba! Emily felt the presence of someone's unusual aura, but she couldn't explain who it was coming from. It turned out that all the time the little apple-shaped creatures had been at the farm and had helped her spouse! Kind spirits, how wonderful! And they like raisins? Oh, she sure has a treat for her new forest friends!

Huh, when Leah mentioned that Stardew Valley is "full of magic," she meant that it's full of inspiration for her future works, not literally... Oh, well. Yes, strange little creatures live with her and Farmer, so what? They're cute, kind, and hard-working. Great neighbours (not like she had when she lived in the Zuzu City).

Olivia thought all week that there were a bunch of mice running around the farm, stealing the ripe wheat. After expressing their fears to Farmer that their crops might be destroyed by pests, Farmer showed their wife that it wasn't mice, but little helpers, Junimos, who live there. ...She need a glass of wine. Maybe two.

"Oh, do you see them too, dear?" To be honest, Claire would rather not see them. Not that she minded the cute, erm, creatures, just... Eh, you know what? Why should she be surprised at all? There are so many unusual things and creatures (golden chickens, slimes) on her spouse's farm that there's no point in her being surprised.

Sophia was stuck somewhere between the "Adorable lil apples!" and "Eeeeep! What is that?!" when she saw her spouse surrounded by a dozen magical Junimos. The pink-haired girl floods Farmer with questions and tries to take pictures of the forest creatures on her phone, to show Scarlett (only they've scattered now, awww!)

_________________________________________

[dominarava]

Angel

Ghostface × Female!Reader

CW: Dub/Non-Con, Blood, Stalking, Breaking & Entering, usual fucked up GF stuff

Rating: 18+

Word Count: 2.2k

Summary: The quiet guy in your discord server decides to chat you up in the general vc, and as expected, has a lot more to unpack than you ever expected.

Notes: I was lazy and just posted the ugly default AO3 link when I first posted this, so I'm coming back and making it look nicer with new and improved tags lol

This piece doesn't specify who is really behind the mask, so whoever you want is up to you~

I had fun with this and left light references to the movies, Dead By Daylight, and Mortal Kombat to honor some of my favorite appearances of him-- hopefully it doesn't ruin the immersion lol

I don't usually leave notes, but it's been a while and I've adored all the comments and kudos I've gotten in my absence, cause at the end of the day, that's what will always bring me back. I love all your support and time reading this and hopefully I have more soon to come for you all!

Thank you again so much for reading, and I hope you enjoy! 🔪💕✨️

AO3 Link

This had become the nightly habit: get off work, make dinner, chill with the lads in a Discord call until bedtime. Mindlessly playing a game, you weren't surprised by the sound of someone joining the call, however you were surprised by who it was. He was a rando that had joined a while back, was nice enough, but didn't have much to say as he relegated himself to really only short replies or emoji reactions. You could have sworn he posted a thirst trap without his face in the #selfies channel, but you weren't 100% sure. When he would join calls he would always stay muted, opting to reply in the text chat or not at all, merely listening to and enjoying just being around the good times happening. All the same, you felt it rude to not say at least a little hello. 

“Hey! How’re you doin’ tonight?” 

“Hey there~” 

The voice on the other side was low, having a bit of a flirtatious twang in the sigh of his greeting. Your heart skipped a beat, you weren't sure if he had ever spoken to you, much less anyone else in the server. And if you were being honest, he sounded kind of hot. Letting the giddy feeling ride, you tried to keep him talking since it was just the two of you. 

“Woah–” You poked cheekily, “I dunno if I've heard you say anything before.” 

“I'm more of a one-on-one kind of guy,” He offered smoothly, “But I enjoy listening to everyone having a good time.” 

“Fair–” 

The air fell dead as you wondered what to talk about next, letting him cut into the silence with a question, “So.. what's your favorite scary movie?” 

Having just finished a server horror movie night not too long ago, the question felt like a natural segway into your interests, “Hmmnn that's actually a good question– I think if we're just talkin’ horror in general my first and favorite would have to be Silence Of The Lambs. The back and forth relationship between Clarice and Dr. Lecter was probably one of the most challenging to my mind at the ripe age of twelve, since then I've loved horror that has a female protagonist that is put under pressure by the killer to make difficult choices and solve the puzzle he left for her.

“But– that's not to say pieces like Substance or Midsommer aren't incredible mentally challenging works of art to me, I love both, along with movies like The Empty Man, Smile, It Follows, The VVitch, The Void, V/H/S–”

He cut your train with a light chuckle, “I definitely want to know which you thought was better, Smile or It Follows, but I meant to ask, what’s your favorite slasher movie?” 

You gave this one a lot more consideration as your heart swelled with a damning excitement at the thought of your favorite killers, “That's such a hard choice! Of course Micheal Myers from <i>Halloween</i> is like everyone's big daddy– but I think if I had to choose it would have to be Stab! Ghostface is just a lot more fun, playful, and let's be honest– horny.” 

“Oh yeah?” He hummed, “Why's that?” 

How his tone seemed to curl at the end of his words made your chest tighten and a heat rise to your cheeks, “I mean, at the heart of it.. the voice actor responsible for his voice changer in the movie said that his tone is flirtatious, beyond that– between the fact that the first Ghostface seemed to get off on the idea of causing his object of obsession, Sidney, the most pain possible by the mocking of her mother being the town bicycle and it's even pointed to at the end of the movie that the two who were behind the Ghostface killings were the same two that brutalized Sidney's mother–” 

“Goddamn–” Nearly groaning his words as he cut you off, he cleared his throat and pressed, “Good girl~ You sure do know your stuff.” Praising you with words that melted like chocolate over your tongue, your mind tilted at his words, ‘Good girl’. 

Good girl?!

“Excu–”

“I fuckin’ love girls like you–” He went on, swearing you could hear the ache of him through the call, “Your type always knows how really appreciate us..” 

‘Us’?

Before you could get a word in, he went on, “Buuut it looks like that's my cue– I hope you're ready for some fun this evening.” Leaving the conversation with the disconnect sound chiming through your ears in silence to process what just happened. 

The sound of him leaving the call let a wash of relief run over you, only lasting for a moment as the floor creaking caught your attention with arms wrapping you in a winding embrace. Having your arms pinned at your sides, your hands flailed looking for any sort of way out. Only, the way your grip seemed to find his length caged behind his pants before skirting over to the long hunting knife strapped to his leg, making your struggle against him stop with a gasp.

“Yeah.. that's all for you Babe, whatever you need– so.. let's behave.. alright..?” The same voice that was lingering in your headset only moments ago was in high definition against your back. 

Firmly pressing his hand over your mouth, you froze as someone else joined the empty call with you, “Hey you there?” 

Your headphones loud enough for him to hear, an uneasy pause passed between you two as his hold over your lips lessened, “Yeah-” He let you breathe through his nitrile gloved fingers.

“Good, kinda glad he's gone, he's chill and all, but it kinda bugs me that he's just in here just dead-ass silent all the time. Fuckin’ weird.” 

Looking over your shoulder a bit to get any sort of a look at him, you were only met with the deep black drooping eyes framed by a gasping bone white mask. Familiarity of the visage made your heart drop into your stomach, forcing you to chew on the harsh fact that that same familiarity you knew to fear, also brought the flutter of butterflies in with it.  

A rough bump of his hips to your back-end snapped you out of your own mind and made you bark out, “Uh– Same– he is kinda weird, I've– talked to him a little bit and he just– seems like a bit of a creep..”

“Oooh shit whaddaya mean?” 

He peered over your shoulder to look at you, curious to see how you would pull this along as his other hand pushed at the elastic of your pajama bottoms, “He uh– waited for everyone to leave– and then started hella chatting me up–” 

“Are you good? It sounds like you're doing something.” 

Eyeing him, the slight nod of his head coaxed you to keep talking while his fingers made their home in exploring your heat, “Yeah I'm fine– I think I pulled a muscle and I–”

“Oh shit– sorry, one sec– groceries are here, I'll be back in a minute!”

At the sound of her disconnection he lifted you up with a near effortless toss onto the bed, wasting no time crawling on top of you to get at what little clothing was left with his blade. Watching the fabric dance away from your frame, he gripped your wrist as you tried to switch your mic off.

“Go on.. stay in that call.. let ‘em all know what a stagy little whore you are.” He pushed, lifting the hem of his hoodie above the glimmer of the silver button hiding his length behind the black denim. 

No time was wasted getting into you, making himself at home between your legs with a few rough thrusts and shivering grunts that made your mind twist. Squirming under him the grit falling off his boots into your blankets made you buck against him in frustration, earning a low sigh from him as his beat picked up. 

“Mmn if you keep fighting me.. I'll gut you like a fucking pig.” Groaning into your ear, the delicate touch of his knife teased itself between your breasts. 

Defiance sparked in you to bite back, “If we're– oh god– following the rules, you'll just do it anyway–” 

The blade pulled its edge against your skin, splitting you like a ripe peach under its cut, “True.. but the killer's favorite little slut never dies.. she's gotta make it to the sequel, the trilogy, hell! Maybe a whole fuckin’ saga..”

Suddenly ringing in your ear the sound of the bluetooth assistant chimed,

Battery Low.. Please Charge Soon.

You held your lips tight as the length of him pushed to the hilt over and over, letting the air in the call stay dead as your friend and others passed through, thinking you were away from your keyboard. 

“What’s wrong? Suddenly have nothing to say? I thought you liked the idea of being yanked around by a big man with a knife? Little different than on the big screen, ain't it Babe?” 

You could practically hear him purring behind the mask, his pace slowing to deep grind as you felt the rub of his metal pants zipper dig into your skin like a threat.

“Mmmm– remember a couple weeks back– we were all watching that scary movie– when you wouldn't shut the fuck up about how you wanted to ride that slashers cock like a carnival ride– fuck you don't know what that did to me– hearing you get all giddy about bouncing on dick after a kill– goddamn you don't have a fuckin’ clue– how bad I wanted bust through that fuckin’ window and tear you apart–” 

Gripping his palm across your eyes to pin your head to the bed, the unrelenting barrage of what came was less of a kiss and more of a hostile takeover of your senses. You couldn't tell how long you were left to his devices, using you with the excitement of a new sex doll he'd been waiting months for. The fight in you began to fade with the swipe of your tongue to his, earning the zeal of him rutting into you harder. 

“See.. I knew you'd love it..” 

Battery Low.. Please Charge Soon.

Dipping down to your chest to kiss the fresh wound that lay spilling blood around your breasts, taking in the heavy scent of your rubies like a jewel thief making his biggest heist. Slipping his free hand over your chest to the slick of your nipple made you gasp as a perfect distraction before pulling his mask back down. Adorning his usual visage now laid a smeared print of your life in blinding crimson, letting that be the first and only thing you saw as he let you have your vision back in the darkness. Against the blur of your eyes readjusting from the pressure of his weight on them, the dip of his frame dropping against yours with his hands gripping the sides of your head in a vice made you dizzy with a feral beat between your legs. Throughout his treatment you didn't feel that familiar latex rub of a barrier between you, forcing your stomach into a twist as his panting behind the mask got heavier. 

The first grace of the evening came when you finally heard the powering down beeping of your headset giving its last bit of juice before cutting out. Unbound by the fear of being heard, your voice let out a moan that vibrated the silence of the dead air room. Relaxing a little under him, he pushed your rear up, angling himself better to pump deep before running his fingers over the tacky blood joining the fresh on your chest in a macabre mess. Having the dig of his fingertips into the open wound weeping from you was a new kind of violation before he breathed out a shaken manic pleasure from the mask that captivated you. 

“Oh fuck– I'm going to smear your blood over my every  fucking pore!” The bubbling frenzy in his tone gave away his devouring bliss as it promised to swallow you whole. 

Honestly, you weren't long for the session either way as he found just the right spot to rub his tip into the soft warmth of you hugging his length and perfect grind of his mound against your bud aching to come undone. Seeing him watch you in those last moments before you went over the edge was enough to send you there as you trembled and cried out under his grip. Moaning and reaching to touch him in any way you could, you couldn't get enough of him as your body craved the closeness it needed. Expecting swift punishment for the affection, he surprised you by taking your hand in his, slowing his pace. Lacing your fingers as one, the gentle caress of his thumb to your skin had your rose colored glasses as red as they could be. Watching with a affectionately hazed gaze while he pinned you down, your skin when cold as his words dripped from his lips like sweet poison: 

“You think you're getting away that easy? I'm just gonna cum and that be that? No.. I prepared for this all day. You're not goin’ fucking anywhere.”

[idesofrevolution]

Precursor

"Jesus, Danny I don't know what the fuck to do about it, okay? He just fuckin' got me out of no where." Click, clack. Click, clack. The tapping of his fingers on the mouse and keyboard were the only sounds echoing in the dark room aside from his shouts. "Well, I how the fuck should I know? I told you I wasn't good at this game! You're the one who kept begging me to play it, and it's bullshit dude!" For a game that was supposed to be this fun phenomenon, 'Precursor' was proving to be quite a bit lesser than Greg anticipated. Danny had begged him for weeks to join the game and do a couple of rounds with him, if only to get him hooked. For Greg, a video game was like Civilization or Cities Skylines... building something great with strategy and creativity. To him, this was a boring shoot 'em up that had a steep learning curve, and it was grating on his nerves. "Well, dude I told you I didn't know how to play this stupid game but you wouldn't take no for an answer!"

Another red screen and the words 'Exterminated' were sprawled across the screen. Greg slammed his fists down onto the desk, spilling his Red Bull all over his lap. He threw his head back in yet another defeat, his seventh in the span of an hour. Looking down at his phone, the late hour had all but caused him even further grief.

"You know what, dude? This game fucking sucks. I don't know why you wanted me to play with you." Danny, surely kicking ass on the battlefront from somewhere behind his screen in Oklahoma hundreds of miles away, was less than enthused. "Ya know what, fine. I will do the fucking noob lobby, okay? I swear to God, though, if this shit doesn't get fun in ten minutes I'm loggin' off." Greg disconnected from his online pal and reentered back into the main menu. He sighed, how the fuck could anyone without a trigger-happy index finger and a desire to think about their options for more than a split second find this game fun? To him, it was all reflexes and no brain power. Clicking through the main menu, he searched for the "Noob" lobby in the available servers. He scrolled for an agonizing ten seconds of full lobbies before he gave up.

"Man, fuck this." He was a single moment away from clicking that exit button before his elbow slipped on some of the Red Bull that had spilled onto the desktop. His wrist banged onto the keys, leaving a string of gibberish into the searchbar. He grabbed one of his clean socks from the floor and sopped up the syrupy water and tossed it behind him over his shoulder. Whatever. Turning back to his screen, to his utter astonishment, the search for 'pjdkluyoikms' had come up with a single hit: 3/9 players in the lobby. Greg looked down at his phone again, 3:30 in the morning grimaced back at him. He'd have to be up in 4 hours if he'd kept the job he quit a few days prior, but with unemployment looming over his head the hours didn't seem so important to him. The game was known for being a time void, sucking in every available minute it's players had to use.

"Fuck it." He clicked join, and waited as the lobby began to load. For a second, his monitor became severely pixelated, but quickly returned to normal. Before long, he was met with the game mode selection and a couple of voices chatting amongst the static. Bruiser, Scout, Sniper, Runner, Bomber... He didn't know how to use a single one of these characters and in the back of his mind, he wasn't keen on being embarrassed yet again for another hour of failures.

"Who's this?" One of the voices from the ether bellowed out from his headphones, and for whatever reason his skin flushed with goosebumps. "Yo, new guy, did you mean to come here? It's a private server."

"Ahh, shit. I'm sorry, my friend made me buy this game and I don't know what I'm doing. I'll find another, my bad!" Greg scampered to try and just choose a character so he could exit out of the menu, but a second voice gave him immediate pause. It was unlike the other players he'd met so far, in that he wasn't a complete dick right off the bat.

"Nahh, it's cool! We could use a runner this round if you're down? We can take it easy, right boys?" His voice was smooth, chill, if not a bit high pitched in a tenor timbre. The guy could have a career in anime protagonist voice acting if he'd put his mind to it, Greg was quickly put at ease with just a single word.

"You think he can keep up?" the third voice, husky and deep questioned.

"We've played with worse, bro. Remember Clive before Mick got to him? We lost four rounds before Mick got it to stick! He won't fuck up, will ya new guy?" Greg nervously chuckled, knowing full well he'd be terrible in the beginning either way.

"Uhhhh, give me a round or two to get the hang of it... I'm sure I can do it. Nothing better to do anyway."

"That's the spirit! See? He's gonna be great. I'll get him up to snuff." A fall of silence came over the server, Greg shifted in his seat. "Alright, newbie. Just choose runner and I got your back. I used to main runner, so I can show you the ropes." Taking a deep breath, Greg clicked on the avatar for Runner, and hit accept. He entered the lobby, seeing the three players had already chosen their avatars. 1: lostdestiny (scout), 2: EdgeRunner (bruiser), 3: ironclad (bomber), and now 4: Greg (runner).

ironclad: I take it you're Greg, then?

Greg: What gave it away?

The three others chuckled, and the loadbar began to fill. Greg could feel the anxiety and anticipation grow within him. He was about to faceplant AGAIN, and in front of these strangers. At least it wouldn't be long until he'd be kicked anyway.

EdgeRunner: Aight, listen up man. I can't be a babysitter, but I'll be following you. Just do what I tell you to do and you'll be fine. You got this, man. Yeah?

Greg: Uh, yeah man. I'll do my best.

lostdestiny: Don't worry guys, he's gonna do his best.

EdgeRunner: Pipe down, will ya, Des? Fuck. Alright, here we go. Lay low and let them come out on their own.

The four of them were dumped onto the map, this one seemed to be some dirty Cyberpunk city in the rain. Sooner rather than later, it'd be a warzone. Greg sat gobsmacked, frozen in place as the others ran for cover.

ironclad: Yo, get to cover, they'll be here any fuckin' second!

Greg: Whuh.... What do I do, where do I go?

EdgeRunner: Turn to your left, there's a hidden door in the bodega. Hold shift and run. Go!

Greg did as he was told, holding down the shift bar and going toward the store on the corner of the street. He was unprepared for just how quickly he would get there, running straight into the wall to the left of the door. Runner indeed. Rounding the doorway, he snuck down the aisles, and up to the door. He burst in, plowing through stacked boxes and into the racks of the storeroom.

EdgeRunner: Aight, you can let go of the shift, bud.

lostdestiny: Fuck, we're so screwed. We lose out on this one it's on you Edge, and I'm not coughin' up a single coin.

EdgeRunner: Des, hit your fuckin' vape and keep your eyes peeled. I'll worry about the new kid. Greg, hang tight. Wait for me to give you a signal, then you run to the hotel down the street. Got it?

Greg chuckled to himself, he'd stumbled into quite the little gang. These guys were far from noobs, they were good if not professionals. From behind the closed door, he sat idly, waiting with bated breath for Edge to give him the unmentioned word. Over his headphones, he could hear the trio plotting as if they were soldiers planning their attack.

EdgeRunner: Iron, be position. They're gonna come barreling down that alley like a fuckin' stampede, so nuke 'em until I can get there. Des, they in sight yet?

lostdestiny: Just like you said, boss man. Comin' in hot.

EdgeRunner: Perfect. Greg. There's a glowing purple crate in the corner. Open it and pick up whatever is in it, and do it quick.

Greg fumbled over the keys, searching the dark room until he saw the glowing purple box hidden beneath a pile of trash. Clicking on it, the box opened, shucking all the garbage atop it onto the floor. Inside sat a strange green vial.

Greg: Its... It's a glass syringe? Glowing green stuff inside.

EdgeRunner: That's what you're looking for. Bag it and get ready to run.

Greg slipped it into his bag. The syringe showed up as 'upgrade' in the inventory, but no other information was provided. Usually, at least, there was some sort of witty description for the items in-game. Might be modded, he thought to himself, not that he would know anyway. He positioned himself by the door, holding his breath.

ironclad: Fireworks.

EdgeRunner: Now, Greg. Go!

His left pinky firmly planted on the shift key, Greg burst out of the door, through the store and into the street. Outside, a barrage of AI cop grunts were surrounding the building across the way. Pillars of smoke and fire erupted from bombs being dropped from the roof, a massive lug of muscle being the culprit with Ironclad's red tag hovering above him. From within the crowd, an explosion of grunts flew through the air, and dead in the center of the action was EdgeRunner, a maxxed out avatar oozing athleticism and strength with a nearly full level bar floating above him. Fuck, who were these guys?

EdgeRunner: Don't fuckin' freeze on us, Greg. Run!

Taking the hint, Greg bolted down the street, weaving past smoke bombs and gunfire until he made it to the hotel's revolving door, shattering the glass as he crashed through. Inside, three grunts stood behind the front desk, quickly pulling out absurdly massive guns.

Greg: Edge, there's guys in here, they got big ass motherfucking guns too.

EdgeRunner: Fuck, okay. Hold control, shift, and Y. Then run to the elevator. Do it before they peg ya!

Greg: Fuck!

EdgeRunner: Iron, toss a few into the hotel. Help the kid out.

ironclad: On it.

Greg could hear the whistling in the air of the incoming bombs flying toward the lobby. He held down the keys and ran toward the elevators as instructed. Though, as he did, waves of colors surrounded his avatar, deflecting the bullets as they flew before the explosions behind him came bursting in. As the elevator doors closed in front of him, he saw the XP points flowing into his bar from the dead grunts. The elevator began to climb.

EdgeRunner: Woooooooooo baby! That's what I call a bait n switch! Kid, you're a natural.

lostdestiny: Beginner's luck.

EdgeRunner: It's gonna be a second before that elevator gets to the top level. Regroup at the hotel, they'll be swarming him. Des, you're on the 99th floor, right?

lostdestiny: Best view in the city.

EdgeRunner: Keep watch, we'll be there in a second. New guy will be on your floor in a couple of minutes. Greg, let's do a one-on-one, yeah?

On the screen, a side window popped up in the bottom corner. Incoming call: EdgeRunner 1 on 1. Fuck, was this guy trying to video chat?

Greg: Uhhhh, I didn't know you could cam...

EdgeRunner: What, you ain't jackin' off are ya? C'mon lemme see.

Greg waited for a moment, nervous beyond words. Watch it be some 60 year old gaming in his mom's basement, was this really the kind of guy he'd want to game with anyway? The curiosity had only crept up since he stumbled into the server, it's not as if they were meeting in real life or anything. It's a screen. He nodded to himself, as if to give himself permission, and clicked on the accept button. In the corner box, EdgeRunner himself popped into focus.

Not what he expected whatsoever. He wasn't much older than Greg, maybe late twenties, early thirties. That was a relief. His room was shrouded in a blue hue, pairing nicely with his ID tag color in game. He was covered in ink from the forehead down, with white hair and a nice pair of pecs cropped just out of view. Again, far from what he expected to see.

"What's up, Greggo?" He smirked, as if studying Greg from behind his lens.

"Yeah... In an elevator. On my computer." Edge laughed, taking his eye contact away to refocus on his game.

"Playin' pretty fuckin' well so far. You sure you never played before now?" Greg found himself blushing a tad bit at this hunk of a man, alarmingly similar to the stud avatar he portrayed online. "Might have to keep you around if you keep up at this rate." The ping of the elevator reaching the 99th floor brought him right back into the world, as the doors opened to a tall, lanky guy with his back to him.

"Des, I presume?"

lostdestiny: Who the fuck else would it be? Mommie? Get to the loot at the end of the hall, fifth door on the right.

"Des isn't the sweetest fruit in the basket. Don't mind him. But get to the room as quick as you can, bud." Holding down the shift key yet again, though now as if it were second nature to him, he bolted down the hall, dodging the mines which littered the floor. "Yeah, don't be up in your feelings about it, but the upgrade is for you, kid. If I were you, I'd take it now while you can. Get you on our level quicker, if ya catch my drift." Greg didn't think twice. He opened the inventory, clicked on the vial, and hit use. His avatar quickly pulled out the syringe from off screen, jamming it into his wrist. The liquid quickly flowed into his avatar, but changes were slow. He arrived at the door, opening them to a boardroom overlooking the whole city, bathed in a purple hue.

Greg: What am I looking for exactly?

ironclad: You'll know it when you see it. Find it quick, they're coming up.

As Greg began to search through the shelves and drawers lining the walls, he was too preoccupied to notice the veins of black starting to flow from his fingertips up his limber arms. While he may have been too focused to see, Edge was watching eagerly in the bottom corner with a giant grin forming on his face. His little window closed, leaving Greg in his search.

lostdestiny: Incoming. Edge, would be a really fuckin' great time for you to pull some fuckshit about now!

Explosions rung out in the hallway, and an eruption of bullets soon followed. Greg felt the pressure bearing down on him, he felt heavier, as if the weight of the situation were sitting atop him like boulders. But hidden in the darkness of his room, the black veins crawled higher and higher, across his shoulders and back, creeping up the back of his neck, until he felt a pinch right at the base of his skull. Instant headrush.

The world got blurry in a mere second, his ears started to ring and his muscles began to pulse. Though, in that moment, he felt something else swelling within him: confidence. Control, Shift, C. The boardroom went blue, a glowing yellow aura radiated from behind one of the walls. Greg smiled, bolting to the wall. Alt, D, F7. The shelves shuddered, then slowly retracted into a dark void. The payload sat at the end of a long, dark hallway on a spotlit pedestal. Some crazy mechanical contraption, it seemed. Though he didn't know what it was, he knew inherently that this is what he was looking for. Just as Iron said.

Greg: Bingo.

EdgeRunner: Careful, newbie. Watch the walls.

A single step forward, and red lasers began to shoot left and right. An hour earlier, he'd be pissing himself on an 'exterminated' screen, raging to no one but himself. Though now, as he felt the energy coursing through his body, the corner of his lip shifted upward, his brows furrowed, and he leaned forward. Showtime.

Alt, Shift, F2, Q, L... the keys flew by beneath his fingers as he dodged, rolled, and lept past every sensor. The keyboard could barely keep up as his hands danced across it. It was an invigoration he'd never experienced before, an expertise he'd never felt, a self he'd never known. Every new trap before him was a piece of cake, avoiding them before they'd even triggered. In the span of fifteen seconds, he'd arrived at the pedestal. The Carpe Diem. A major upgrade, far above his current standing, but it would fetch a pretty price for the right punk. The massive implant somehow fit in his inventory, he was thankful he wasn't on a real job, lugging this around would have been a task in and of itself.

Greg: Payload in hand. Ready to get the fuck out of here.

EdgeRunner: Gonna be a messy exit, kid. You up for it?

Greg: Don't have to flirt that nasty with me, Edge. Treat me tender.

He spun around, leaping down the entire hallway in one go. Thank you Shift, T, S. The crew stood at the door to the boardroom, perhaps a hundred grunts firing everything they had not far behind. Greg looked at every corner, and realized quickly what Edge meant. He turned around, looking at the massive glass wall overlooking Sunset City. His massive feet tapped against the wooden floor beneath his desk, itching for the run he was about to embark upon, his body begging for the rush... his muscles aching for the wind on his skin. He smirked. No second thoughts, he burst through the window.

ironclad: Fuck kid! That's one way out I guess!

EdgeRunner: Bail, boys! Let's fly.

Freefalling, Greg felt the cool breeze of his plummet on the lids of his closed eyes. Soon, but not yet. He had a job to finish. Control, Shift, C. His fall became a sprint, every footfall landing softly on the glass below, looking 99 floors straight down to the pavement.

GreWind: WOOOOOOOOOHOOOOOOO!

Exhiliration. Excitement. Freedom. He was free. Coasting on the diagonal glass, he surfed down the building until he came painlessly onto the sidewalk below, followed not too far behind by Des landing in a bush, Iron on his face, and Edge on his own two feet. The quartet sped toward the four bikes parked along the street, making their swift getaway. As Wind wiped the sweat from his brow, leaning back in his chair, letting the ripe waft of pits beam from his arms. Incoming 1 on 1 from EdgeRunner. He of course had to reem in the accolades, smiling as he hit accept. Edge popped up in the corner of the screen, beaming from ear to ear.

"Now that's what the fuck I'm talkin' about! That upgrade did ya good, new kid." Wind smirked, puckering his lips and blowing a kiss to his studly boss man.

"You can show me your appreciation later, babe. Worked up a storm for ya." Wind flexed his arms, licking the sweat from his bicep and running his hand through his bright green hair.

"Heh, yeah, you're gonna fit in just fine. This'll fetch a nice penny from the middleman. Now, whaddya say, Greg? Ready for the real work?" Edge winked and his window closed.

EdgeRunner: Rendezvous at Checkpoint's. Your cuts will be waiting for you.

Stormwind: Aye, aye Captain.

lostdestiny: Shit, you two get a room already.

EdgeRunner: Nah, you're gonna sit and watch me fuck him raw and nasty, Des.

Stormwind: Won't be the last if you're nice, Des.

ironclad: I swear, if newbie is gonna be cumdump, I'm gonna be on whatever job he's on.

Stormwind: Plenty to go around, boys. Better be ready to clean this dick and worship these feet. They run real fast for y'all and they could use a tongue bath, won't even need any poppers. Freebase, baby.

EdgeRunner: See you at Checkpoint's, Wind. Welcome to the team.

[v6quewrlds]

PLEASE HEAR ME OUT; we saw the stream of tee listention to bmf by sza; so an imagine request could be; reader in her universe or wtv wrote that bc yk her and tee are together. and tee didn't know, and she just randomly posted new song out go enjoy, and when its released let's see tee is on stream and everyone's saying like tee reader dropped a new songs and he goes huh and so he calls her and is like did you just drop a song and she goes maybe and he goes to listen to and is like wait, is this about me and then gets really cute and excited that its about him

imagine writing a song about tee.

Tee was bored out of his mind.

The quietness of the off-season was usually a welcome reprieve from the chaos of football, but today, it felt like a prison sentence. His eyes darted from the TV playing the Notre Dame game to his phone and back again, searching for anything to fill the void. That's when he decided to set up his chair, pop his headset on, and start up his Twitch, hoping the time would fly by.

"Yo, what's good," Tee greeted his viewers with his usual enthusiasm. His screen flickered to life, displaying his face and the den behind him. The chatter in the chat grew as fans typed away, eager to interact with the star wide receiver.

Mid-game, the notifications started pouring in. "YOUR GIRL SURPRISE DROPPED," one fan exclaimed. "It's trending on Twitter," added another. Tee's heart skipped a beat. He paused the game and leaned in closer to the camera, his eyes searching the chat for more information. He hadn't heard a peep from you about this. You were in New York, tucked away upstate to finish recording your third album.

"Fuck is y'all talkin' about? My girl dropped?" Tee said into the mic, his eyes darting between the chat and his phone. He sent you a text, his thumbs moving at the speed of light. "Nobody told me nothing," he muttered under his breath. The notifications on his phone went wild, with fans sending links to Spotify and Apple Music.

After deciding you were taking too long to answer his text, he dialed your number, putting the call on speaker. It rang twice before you picked up, your voice as smooth as honey. "Hi, baby," you drawled out, playing it cool.

"Don't 'hi, baby' me," Tee said, trying to keep his own cool. "Did you really drop a new song?"

You giggled, the sound echoing through the room. "Maybe," you hummed coyly.

Tee rolled his eyes. "You playing with me?"

Your laughter grew. "I don't know. I miss you though."

Tee felt a tug at his heart. "Miss you too, but tell me about this song," he urged, trying to ignore the flutters in his chest.

"Why don't you play it and see?" you suggested, your voice dripping with mischief.

Tee's heart was racing. He pulled up Spotify on his other screen and searched for the new release. Sure enough, there it was: "BMF". He hit play and put the phone back on speaker. The song started off pleasant before the beat dropped, and your velvety voice filled the room.

Young and fine and dark and handsome The boy from Tennessee keeps bossing And I can't keep my panties from dropping

Tee's hand came down to press pause before the rest of the verse could reach his ears. "Hold on, is this about me?" He was grinning wide, a laugh bubbling up from his chest in disbelief.

Your giggles grew louder over the phone. "You're supposed to play it, listen with your ears, baby," you teased, your voice full of excitement and a hint of nerves.

Tee's smile was uncontainable as he hit play again. He leaned back into his chair, eyes on the lyrics scrolling by. The song continued as Tee continued smiling wide. He listened intently as the words painted a picture of your feelings for him. The fans in his chat went wild, posting heart-eye emojis and shouting out their love for the couple.

Know my baby packing, why I'm stuck That's why he my man

He couldn't help but press pause again, rising out of his chair to do a little victory dance. "Chat, y'all hearing this shit? This is about me!" The room was alive with the energy of his laughter and the thumping bass of the track. "Baby girl, you out here talking crazy. Goddamn!"

Your giggles turned into full-blown laughter. "I had to," you said, the sweetness in your voice contrasting with the explicit nature of the lyrics. "Just finish the song."

By the time the song wrapped up, Tee couldn't help but feel over the moon. He had heard rumors about artists writing songs for their significant others, but never thought it would happen to him. His cheeks were sore from smiling so much. He sat back down, his eyes gleaming with pride and love.

"So, what do you think?" You asked.

Tee looked at the screen, his mind racing with thoughts. "Baby girl, that shit is fire. Like, for real," he said, nodding his head in time with the beat that he decided to loop for a second play.

"You like it?" Your voice was a mix of relief and excitement.

"Like it?" Tee scoffed, his laughter still echoing in the room. "I love it, baby. You went off, baby, damn." His chest puffed out a bit, unable to contain his pride. The fans in the chat were going crazy, sending love to the couple and praising the song. Tee read some of the comments out loud, his smile growing wider with each one.

Your laugh was music to his ears. "Thank you, baby. I wanted to surprise you."

Tee leaned in closer to the mic. "Surprise? You could've just called me to tell me this. You ain't have to go and make a whole song about it," he joked, winking at the camera.

"Mute yourself for a second?" you said, your voice taking on a more sweet tone. Tee's eyes widened, and he quickly muted the stream before you could say anything more.

[another-goblin]

Spoilers for 2.3

Some thoughts, speculations, and headcanons about our little dialogue with Ratio (+more)

1. This tells me that Ratio and Aventurine are friends (or as close to being friends as both of them are currently capable of, which isn't much, but still). Yes, what Aventurine thinks about TB could have been them discussing their mission. But I choose to think that they just chat with each other sometimes, because they actually enjoy it. Aventurine feels comfortable enough to just share what he thinks about the people he meets, and he knows that Ratio is interested in his opinions, and he's right. He listens and takes note. btw people being actual friends is my favorite trope for romantic couples.

2. Ratio seeing his relationships with Aventurine, and our TB, and people in general as a teacher and a student and being constantly in his teacher mode made me think. Probably all significant relationships in his life were those of a teacher and a student. He cannot see himself in any other role because he has never experienced it himself. I wouldn't be surprised if even his parents provided him with knowledge and education instead of parental love. This may also be why he's so frustrated with people who don't fit these two roles: normal people not interested in bettering themselves through education, students who don't take studying seriously, most scholars, and especially the Geniuses, for not actively sharing their knowledge or doing anything to uplift humanity.

3. Ratio seeing their relationship with Aventurine in particular this way is appropriately weird and a bit unhealthy, in my opinion (but what did we expect from him), considering that they are undeniably close. But that's probably the only way he knows to show his care for somebody:  to teach them stuff and help them better themselves.

4. On Avenrutine's side, he seems amused by it, in a good way (the way he playfully refers to Ratio in the descriptions of some of the 2.1 quests, "Your professor friend," and so on). He even seems to be a bit proud that an actual professor has taken an interest in him.

5. But what can he teach Aventurine? He might share his actual knowledge. I think the "Death" and "Dormancy" part of his note is him doing that. But he mostly sees his duty as a teacher in showing people that they can achieve a lot by themselves if they stop relying on higher beings who don't care about them and start relying on themselves (with little help from Ratio.)

But "relying on himself and achieving things" is what Aventurine has been successfully doing most of his life. So is it the "little help from Ratio" that matters here? Or is he helping Aventurine stop relying on his supposedly supernatural luck and realize how capable he actually is?

6. This. (btw 'philosophical zombie' means "a being in a thought experiment in philosophy of mind that is physically identical to a normal human being but does not have conscious experience" (from wiki), so basically just some weird concept in philosophy.) But what an admirably in-depth knowledge of his 'not partner' he's showing here. Are you equally interested in the inner worlds of all your students, doc?…

7. Anyways, that reminded me of what Jade said about the Stonehearts, even using the same word 'void'. So. Aventurine has a void in his heart, caused by his inability to protect people he cares about. It's very significant that Diamond gave him the power of Preservation specifically to help him fill that void, to be finally able to protect somebody he cares about. The problem is, he doesn't have anyone to protect anymore (he doesn't even see himself as worthy of protection). Until recently. So, and I'm being extremely self-indulgent here, if Ratio got in danger, Aventurine protecting and saving him would fill the void in his heart. And btw what can boost one's self-worth more than protecting somebody who's important to you? I mean, he should snap out of that 'I'm only worth the money my slaveowner paid for me' mentality sooner or later, I hope.

(the problem is, I'm not sure how it can play out now that he doesn't have his stone anymore. And he lost it, not protecting anybody but nearly killing himself and furthering the IPC's agenda. Although doing something like that without the stone would be even more significant)

Also, I hope Ratio won't realize that, and won't deliberately put himself in danger for Aventurine to save him. You know, for educational purposes.

8. He just runs around helping people, making sure everybody's okay, and, emm, 'enhance their living', that's his thing.  And even broadly speaking, with his scientific discoveries, and him saving people on Herta station. And considering that 'everybody's my student' thing, I feel like he sees himself as responsible for everybody (in his own way).

And some people still think that he's selfish and egoistic. He even gets angry when we ask for an autograph:

9. Aaand that's the third time he disappeared in the middle of a conversation involving Aventurine. I understand him, though. As somebody who also 'detests noisy gatherings', group chats aren't much better.

------

ok this was supposed to be hidden in tags but i think tumblr found it too scandalous or something i don't know, i'll just leave it here: the more I write about Ratio, the stronger the urge to just call him Rat, you know, lovingly also whoops sorry, I'm physically incapable of writing short posts, it was supposed to be a short comment about their friendship, how much content can I squeeze out of a half-minute long dialogue?, the answer is yes, but I just had to get it out of my system

[the-offside-rule]

Logan Sargeant (Williams) - Forever & Always

Requested: no

Swift Series

Warnings: none

Y/N Button stood at the edge of the track, the familiar roar of engines filling the air at the Goodwood Festival of Speed. The vibrant energy of the event couldn't completely mask the anxiety bubbling inside her. She adjusted her sunglasses, trying to blend into the crowd. "Y/n." Her father, Jenson, called out as he approached her. He gave her a warm hug. "About time." He chuckled, patting her back. She smiled seeing him. His black shades, his race suit tied around his waist. It was just like back in the day when she was growing up; same old dad. "Wouldn't miss it for the world, Dad." She replied, forcing a smile. "There's a few of your friends here. I was chatting to them a few minutes ago." Y/n nodded. Jenson's eyes softened with concern. "You know, Logan's here too." Y/n's stomach tightened. Of course, she knew. Logan Sargeant, her ex-boyfriend, and her father were both driving today. It was impossible to escape his presence, no matter how much she wanted to.

"Yeah, I know." She said, trying to sound nonchalant. Jenson hesitated before speaking again. "Maybe you should talk to him. It's been a while, and it might be good for both of you." Y/n groaned, her shoulders drooping. "Dad, I don't think that's a good idea." She protested. "We've moved on. Or at least, we're supposed to."

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Y/n sat on the couch, her eyes glued to her phone as she waited for Logan to arrive. He had texted her earlier, saying they needed to talk. Those words had sent a chill down her spine. She couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong. When Logan eventually walked through the door, his expression confirmed her fears. He looked tired, defeated, and distant. Y/n's heart sank. "Logan, what's going on?" She asked, her voice trembling slightly, her face offering a reassuring smile that whatever was going on, she would be there for her. Logan avoided her gaze, running a hand through his hair. "Y/n, I... I can't do this anymore."

Her breath caught in her throat. "What do you mean? Do what?" She asked. "This." He gestured vaguely between them. "Us. I can't be with you anymore." Y/N stood up, her eyes wide with disbelief. "Can you just tell me what has happened? Because there is no way you would break up with me so randomly. We were just fine yesterday and now you're practically heading towards the door after breaking this news. What did I do?"

Logan shook his head, his jaw clenched. "It's not you. It's just... everything. The racing, the constant travel, the lack of time. It's too much." She touched his face with her gentle fingers, an attempt to change his mind. "Logan, please." She pleaded, stepping closer to him. "We can make it work. We've always made it work." He finally looked at her, pain etched into his features. "I don't think we can anymore, Y/N. I'm sorry." Tears welled up in her eyes as she reached out, grabbing his hands. "Don't do this. Please. I love you." Logan's resolve faltered for a moment as he felt the warmth of her touch and saw the tears streaming down her face. He leaned in, pressing his lips to hers in a desperate, bittersweet kiss. For a brief moment, it felt like everything might be okay.

But then Logan pulled away, the reality of their situation crashing back down on him. He looked deep into her eyes, seeing the heartbreak and desperation in them. He didnt want to hurt her more than he had to. "Y/n, I have to go." He said, his voice breaking. "No, Logan, please!" Y/n cried, clutching his hands tighter. "We can fix this. We can—" He gently but firmly pulled his hands from hers, taking a step back. "I'm sorry, Y/n."

With that, he turned and walked out the door, leaving Y/n standing there, her world shattering around her. She sank to the floor, tears streaming down her face as she wondered what she had done wrong. The silence of the empty room was deafening, the absence of Logan's presence a gaping void in her heart. Y/n sat there for what felt like hours, replaying their last moments together over and over in her mind. She sat by the phone, half expecting him to call and feeling more and more defeated each second it didn't ring. She couldn't understand why he had left, why he hadn't fought for them. All she knew was that the love of her life was gone, and she was left with nothing but unanswered questions and a broken heart.

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Jenson sighed. "Okay, okay, but just think about it. Sometimes, closure is the best way to move forward." Y/n nodded, though she had no intention of seeking Logan out. She spent the next few hours wandering through the event, admiring the cars, and catching up with old friends. But no matter where she went, she felt a pair of eyes on her, and every time she turned around, she half-expected to see Logan.

Finally, as she was making her way to the paddock, she collided with someone, nearly losing her balance. "Whoa, sorry about that." A familiar voice said. Y/n looked up to see Logan standing before her, his blue eyes widening in surprise. "Y/n?"

"Logan." She replied, her voice barely above a whisper.

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The young Y/n Button wandered through the crowded Williams party, feeling increasingly out of place. The room was filled with her father's colleagues, engineers, and drivers, all talking shop. She plastered on a polite smile, nodding along to conversations she had little interest in. After hours of this, she made her way to the drinks table, seeking a moment of respite.

Logan had been watching her for a while. He almost applauded how professional she was acting, especially at such a boring event. He saw that she finally left her dad's side and that was his time to chance it. As she reached for a glass of prosecco, a voice beside her chimed in. "Not a fan of these kinds of parties either, huh?" She turned to see a young man, tall with striking blue eyes and an easygoing smile. He wasn't much older than her, which was a rare sight at these events. "Is it that obvious?" He smiled, looking down towards his glass. "I'm Logan, by the way." He said, offering his hand. "Y/n." She replied, shaking his hand. "And no, I'm not really into these parties. Too many people talking about things I don't understand." Logan chuckled. "I get that. I'm just here because I kind of have to be."

Y/n noticed he wasn't holding a champagne glass lile everyone else, butninstead holding what she assumed was a coke. "Not drinking?" Logan shook his head. "God no, I'm only 18." She laughed, the tension in her shoulders easing. The pair gained looks from a few surrounding guests, including that of the 2009 world champion, Jenson Button. "In England, that's old enough to drink." Y/n said. "Well, in the States, it's 21." He said with a shrug. "Good thing you're in London, isn't it?" He reached into his picket, lifting out his set of keys. "Too bad I'm driving tonight." She laughed again. Logan loved listening to her laugh, it was just something else entirely.

Their conversation flowed effortlessly, and before long, Y/n found herself genuinely enjoying the night. Logan was charming and funny, and he seemed just as out of place as she felt. They wandered through the party together, sharing stories and jokes, quickly becoming unlikely friends. As the night wore on, Logan leaned in close. "Wanna get out of here?" Y/n's eyes lit up. "Absolutely." Logan took her hand in his and led her to the car park where he had left his car just a few hours before. He opened the door for her, and they drove off into the night.

The city lights blurred past them as they talked about everything and nothing. Before long, Logan pulled into a McDonald's drive-thru. "Midnight snack?" He asked, grinning. "Sounds perfect." Y/n replied, laughing. They ordered burgers and fries,gainging strange looks from the strangers around them as they dressed in their very formal clothes. "You'd think you would've brought me somewhere nicer for our first date." She joked, holding onto his arm.as her heels were killing her. "You give me a chance, and next time, it will be." He winked. She felt her heart flutter as Logan walked forward, grabbing the bag and handing Y/n the two milkshakes. "After you." He grinned as Y/n walked out before him. "Hey, can you take the keys? Theyre in my pocket." Y/n arched a brow. "Thats one way to get me into your pants, Sargeant." Logan groaned. "Come on, dude. I usually wait until after dinner." Y/n shook her head,.hdiing a smile as she took his keys and opened the car for both of them.

There was a lot to eat. The warmth of the food and the simplicity of the moment made everything feel perfect. As they talked, Y/n realized she hadn't felt this happy or carefree in a long time. "So, question. If you could go anywhere in the world, no limitations, where would you go?" Y/n pondered for a moment at the American's question. "Iceland, but I always said I'd wait to get a boyfriend before I went to Iceland." Logan arched a brow as he ate another fry. "How come?" He asked. "The northern lights are meant to be completely different when you're in love, so I figured I'd wait until then. What about you? Where would you go?"

"Home." Y/n frowned. "Am I boring you that much?" Logan shook his head. "No, god no. I mean home to see my family. Between racing and stuff, I just haven't had the time to go home." Y/n smiled at the simplicity of his answer. "I miss my room, my backyard, my bed. All of it." There was a moment of silence between them, both looking into one another's eyes before Logan cleared his throat and turned on the ignition. "We should uh- we should get you home. Look at the time." Y/n sipped at the last of her milkshake. "Yeah, wouldn't want Mr Button to be up waiting on me too long, right?" Logan went to drive but found himself hesitating, instead turning to her, his expression suddenly serious. "I've had an amazing time tonight, Y/n."

"Me too." She said softly. Logan hesitated for a moment, then leaned in. Y/n met him halfway, their lips brushing in a tentative, gentle kiss that quickly deepened. It felt like the start of something beautiful, something that neither of them had expected. When they finally pulled away, Logan smiled. "I should get you home. But I promise I'll pick you up tomorrow for breakfast." Y/n's heart fluttered again for the millionth time that evening. "I'll hold you to that." Logan smiled, kissing her again. "I hope you do. Now let's get going before your Dad goes nuts."

As Logan drove her back, Y/n couldn't help but feel that this night was the beginning of something extraordinary. They had met by chance at a party neither of them wanted to attend, but that chance encounter had led to a connection that felt right, like it was meant to be. When they arrived at her house, Logan walked her to the door. "Goodnight, Y/N. I'll see you in the morning." He said, his hands deep in his pockets. "Goodnight, Logan." She replied, feeling a warmth in her chest she hadn't felt before. "Can I kiss you again?" She asked. Logan grinned. "Of course you can." She grabbed his tie and tugfed him in gently, planting one last kiss onto his lips. His hands left his pockets and found their way to her cheeks. She reluctantly pulled away, smiling at the lipstick now smeared across his lips. "You've got a little something." Y/n chuckled. "Leave it. I'll keep it there until you can come give me another one."

As she watched him drive away, Y/n couldn't wait to see what the next day would bring. Little did she know, this was the start of a love story that would both make and break them both.

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An awkward silence settled between them, filled with the noise of revving engines and cheering fans. "It's been a while." Logan finally said. "Yeah, it has." Y/n responded, crossing her arms defensively. They stood there, the unspoken tension hanging heavy in the air. "How have you been?" Logan asked, breaking the silence. "Fine. Busy." Y/n answered shortly. "You?" He said, his stance, broad and open. "Same here. Racing keeps me on the move." Logan said, running a hand through his hair. Another pause. "So what brings you here, Y/n?" Logan asked, his tone softer. "My dad." She replied. "Oh, right. I almost forgot. You know I thought-"

"I came here because I wanted to support him. That's all." Logan nodded, looking down at his feet. "Look, I know things ended badly between us. But—" Y/n cut him off, her voice shaking with anger. "You promised you'd always be there for me, Logan. Forever and always. But then you broke up with me." Logan's expression tightened. "I am there for you, Y/n. Always have been, always will be. We broke up because we had no time for each other, not because I stopped caring." Y/n scoffed. "That's a convenient excuse."

"It's the truth." Logan insisted. "I thought if we took a step back, we'd find a better time for us. It was a time when we could actually be together without everything else getting in the way." Y/n stared at him, the anger and hurt in her eyes gradually giving way to confusion and doubt. "Of course, so now you mustn't have all that much time. I mean, I haven't heard from you, since you broke up with me and left all within 2 minutes." Logan reached out but then hesitated, dropping his hand to his side. "I'll always be there for you, Y/n. Whether we're together or not," Logan said quietly before walking away, leaving Y/n standing alone with her thoughts.

She watched him disappear into the crowd, her mind racing with everything he had said. Maybe he was right. Maybe they had needed time apart to figure things out. But it still hurt. And now, she was left to decide what to do next, her heart torn between the past and an uncertain future.

"There you are!" She was snapped from her thoughts upon hearing her dad walking towards her, his helmet in hand. "Where were you?" He asked. "Oh, I just went to get a drink. The line is mental over there." She chuckled. As Jenson rambled on about his car in front of them, her eyes wandered over to Logan, who was getting ready for his stint, zipping up his race suit and putting on his helmet. He looked over, sensing her gaze on him. As they stood staring, Logan raised his hand, waving gently as Y/n stood unsure of what to do or even say. Logan hopped into his car and sped off, the fans cheering as his Williams maneuvered it's way around.

As the engines roared back to life on the track, Y/n found herself at a crossroads, unsure of which path to take. The cliffhanger of her own story loomed large, and only time would tell where it would lead...

[resonatorover]

WHEN RAINDROPS FALL UPSTREAM... SEEK GENERAL JIYAN OF THE MIDNIGHT RANGERS.

In which, you, are requited to be with the General, in a prophecy by Jué.

[ c.w ] — not proofread, incomplete and diverts from the canon storyline. reader is a havoc resonator.

[ g ] — gender-neutral, they/them used.

[ t ] — subtle fluff/comfort; star-crossed lovers.

[ a/n ] — should i make this a fluff or angst? i'm not tooo sure, but we'll see. feel free to leave your comments or any requests !! have a nice day and stay hydrated <3.

To be mentioned in a prophecy said by a Sentinel itself, one must either be of great importance, or destined for great demise. However, what the General of the Midnight was not expecting was a silent saying by the Loong, that, "On the blue-lit night right when the moon rises, will come a resonator that can annihilate matter at the Gorge of Spirits. Protect them with all your might, or watch them turn to the void."

Before, Jué had always made purposefully vague prophecies or comments, yet this one was relatively not as much. In fact, it is probably the most concise prophecy he's been told. Although, this one was similar to the one of the Rover's, it felt a lot, lot different.

And so, Jiyan waited patiently, for the day that prophecy was to be fulfilled. However, when the day did come, it was of a sight he was not used to— although, undeniably, was prepared for.

The lines in the sky were brighter than before, and the moon casted down its grace to the land and sea. Many citizens had come to view the scenic moon, taking spots at high altitudes to gain better view of it. The Magistrate had deemed it as a safe occurrence, yet Jiyan could not help but feel unsettled as he made sure to keep his guard up whilst travelling to the Gorge of Spirits.

Lo and behold, there they were. With no one else in sight, it was obvious that the one in front of Jiyan was indeed the one Jué had talked about. It further proved his confirmations, when they glanced his way, querying with a shy, or embarrassed, smile. "Excuse me? Do you know where Jin..zhou city is?" The horrible accent was enough to explain that they were from a foreign land, if the apparel did not. Nodding, Jiyan would escort them there. But, what they did not know was that Jiyan was keeping out an observant eye for the other whilst they chatted leisurely.

Days passed steadily, yet Jiyan was uncertain what he was in actuality protecting them from. But, his silent determination never wavered.

However, he did not expect to get closer to the person themself. Whether it be talking to them at a distance where their shoulders touched, fixing little mishaps in their apparel, or even teasing them occasionally. The soldiers have gotten used to the resonator's appearance already, as Jiyan offered to keep them safe in the company of his quaint cottage, albeit it was neglected before their existence in his life. The shared home was made into a cozier place, almost reminding Jiyan of his mother.

The plants they brought in provided a freshness to the ambience of the home, the paraphernalia being remnants of their hobby strewn around. Jiyan did not mind, not when they brought such a positively light presence, releasing some of the tension from his shoulders.

"Wait... you're a General?.. The General of the Midnight Rangers?" it was evident from their voice, that they were both embarrassed at their own informality and nonchalance regarding their introduction, but Jiyan was swift to soothe any worries.

"Yes, but don't feel obliged to speak formally with me. You're fine as you are." He spoke, offering them an almost imperceivably visible smile.

It took a while, but eventually Jiyan managed to calm them down, and make them comfortable around him.

Little did he know, peace and their amity was just a red herring for what would appear next in the two's lives.

© @resonatorover do not reproduce.

[fayes-fics]

Innuendo Bingo

Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x fem!reader, modern AU

Summary: Crack fic. Modern AU. Someone knows a LOT of stupid synonyms for orgasms...

Warnings: Teen and up. Sexual humour, a lot of stupidity. Non-explicit references to sex acts. Basically, I'm sorry.

Word Count: 0.8k

Authors note: Request fill for @sorryallonsy, who asked for Benedict crack fic with him coming up with stupid names for orgasms (ask HERE). I'm sorry this took SO LONG, especially as it is so short. However, I was in the mood to polish off (heheheh) something silly today, and this was just the ticket. Unbetaed cos it's ridiculous. Thanks, and err, enjoy, I guess? <3

Bridgerton family brunch happens once a month and is always memorable. The family usually takes over some swish eatery in central London for a few hours with their unique brand of noisy, chaotic camaraderie. Being Benedict's girlfriend, you are now a part of this melee. It’s one such Sunday when you are finishing your quite delicious but oversized meal that Benedict leans in.

“I can't wait to have you naked again,” he rumbles right in your ear.

You almost spit your last mouthful all over the table. After a few beats, you recover enough to reply.

“Your mother is right there!” you chastise sotto voce, nodding imperceptibly across the table, pulling a pointed expression, even as your mind is filled with images of him waking you up just this morning with his tongue between your thighs.

“Please,” he withers good-naturedly. “I have seven siblings. Do you really think this libido isn't genetic?” he jests, a hand on your knee now. 

“Stop it!” you giggle, not wanting to think of his mother that way.

 “Also, she is not paying us any mind,” he points out, crowding closer. 

Indeed, she is engrossed in a chat with Kate and has one of Daphne’s kids ensconced in her lap, diverting all her attention.

“Besides, are you telling me you don't want to have another orgasm today?” he goads, lips warm on your neck as those fingers spider higher up your thigh, knowing precisely what your weak spots are and exploiting them.

“Well, now… I didn’t say that…” you counter, eyes fluttering closed briefly at his onslaught. “But I might need a few hours after all this food,” you mime a bloated stomach.

It's his turn to chuckle, a warm sound that skitters over your skin. “That's fair,” he assesses. “Can't be releasing the Kraken if you have a food baby…”

You can't help but emit a bark of laughter at that. Everyone at the table looking briefly askance at you before resuming their discussions.

“The what?” you wheeze.

“You heard me,” he quips warmly. “Don't like that? I've got a million more,” he vows, eyes twinkling with mischief.

“Don't…” you warn softly, but that just seems to goad him on.

“Making waffles? Popping the weasel…?”

“Waffles?” you frown, “I thought it was whoopee?”

“That too,” he smiles, eyes crinkling in that adorable way as he continues. “Petting the cat? Nulling the void? You can cuff my carrot, and I’ll dial your rotary phone?” each phrase is delivered full of mirth, close to your ear, and you can't help the stupid grin on your face.

“Stop it,” you protest weakly, nudging him gently with your elbow but having to muffle your laughter into his shoulder.

“I’ll stop when you stop finding them funny…” he counters genially. “Marching the penguin? Downstair DJing? Turning on the sprinklers? Debugging the hard drive?”

Each one has you hopelessly sniggering to the point you can't breathe, and little tears form at the corner of your eyes.

“What in God's name are you doing to your girlfriend, Benedict?” Anthony’s voice suddenly rings out from the head of the table. “It looks like she is about to die… hands where I can see them, please!”

Everyone at the table twists to look at you and laughs as both of you instantly raise your hands as if being held hostage; you mortified by the idea everyone thinks you might be up to things in front of them all, even though you know Anthony is joshing. 

But then Benedict murmurs a quiet parting shot out the corner of his mouth. 

“Chastising the family… jewels...”

And yeah, your loud snort is definitely undignified.

—

You are back at his place relaxing on the sofa a few hours later - When Harry Met Sally is playing on the TV - when he wraps an arm around your shoulder.

“Fancy doing a Meg Ryan?” he whispers, his tone laced with levity.

“Bit late for that. We left the restaurant a few hours ago,” you sigh in mock disappointment, a playful smile tugging at the corner of your mouth.

“I don't mind a private performance,” he breezes, trailing a hand over your neckline and nuzzling your cheek. “I rather like the idea of watching you paddle your pink canoe….”

Yeah, no, you definitely lose it at that one. 

Collapsing into him, your laughter does not even subsidise when he unzips your dress with his practised skill.

“Please… one ticket to the solo show just for me?” he implores, kissing along your jaw. “Visit that safety deposit box? Orbit Venus? A little double-clicking?”

“You are going to need to stop…” you object faintly, an odd mix of lightness from giggling so much and arousal coursing through you as his fingers circle over your underwear.

“Never…..” he teases in that gravelly tone that always persuades you.

“Fine, but only if I can watch you polish your bannister…” you throw back, pushing off your underwear with a comic flourish.

His laugh is deep and all-consuming, racking his whole frame as he suddenly scoops you up and strides towards his bedroom.

“Deal!”

Benedict taglist: @foreverlonginguniverse @colettebronte @aintnuthinbutahounddog @severewobblerlightdragon @writergirl-2001 @heeyyyou @enichole445 @enchantedbytomandhenry @ambitionspassionscoffee @chaoticcalzoneranchsports @nikaprincessofkattegat @baebee35 @crowleysqueenofhell @fiction-is-life @lilacbeesworld @broooookiecrisp @queen-of-the-misfit-toys @eleanor-bradstreet @divaanya @musicismyoxygen84 @benedictspaintbrush @miindfucked @cayt0123 @hottytoddyhistory @truly-dionysus @fictionalmenloversblog @zinzysstuff @malpalgalz @panhoeofmanyfandoms @kinokomoonshine @causeimissu @delehosies @m-rae23 @last-sheep @kmc1989 @desert-fern @starkeylover @corpseoftrees-queen @magical-spit @bunnyweasley23 @how-many-stars-in-the-sky @amygdtjhddzvb @sya-skies @balladynaaa @urfavnoirette

[taiey]

hi guys i watched Pangi's vod An honest talk with Flamefrags and came out of it A Flame Fan 💖 i shall now attempt to spread this affliction 😌

Like I do appreciate just the bare fact that he did log in to chat with Pangi, because he asked. And then went and... built a house with him? Just because. Like they spent an hour this, he's not actually kidding when he says that he does show up for other people's bits.

Anyway. Here are some things Flame says, when they got onto building:

I don't like building: everything I build gets destroyed

I won't build at spawn, I'm scared I'll get arrow cannon'd

I don't like getting attached to places, someone'll trap it

"putting the entrance *here* would make sense but if it's *here* I can see more people if they come to attack me"

Having pets also gets him killed, "I had to drop that a while back."

"How can you dedicate this much time to something, just to know it could be gone instantly?"

(me like a month ago: huh Flame keeps going through the wall instead of the door of his base, that's potentially interesting.) (me now: oh NO) this is what being immortal means, apparently: being constantly aware of all the ways you could die.

so. in. addition to your "man who had to burn off him caring about anything other than fighting because it will get him killed". thing. 🥺

There's the whole audience angle that I find tasty to chew on. Like he opens by saying, he dies once on Lifesteal and everyone's mocking him and he wanted to prove himself. And then the "I have four thousand people watching me and now I let them all down and they start slandering me in the chat"—calling it clickbait, I hear. And it's like—

Did you know one time Flame was a streaming grinding villagers in his volcano-adjacent base and someone paid him money to tell him they would pay him more money if he killed Zam? (the answer, at the time, was—I'm not killing Zam, I'm allied with him, Zam built this base.) Did you know one time he killed Jepexx, metaphorically turns to the camera to say "chat, you be begging me to kill people. Then look, I just killed him in three hits. Are you happy? That's why I want to fight actual good people, like... Is this what you guys wanted? An easy kill?" and then two minutes later he died to Leowook's void trap? Like the emergent symbolism, guys. Did you hear that he died to a wither he had already killed because he was responding to chat?

"I have to blow up spawn tonight or I'm lying, again"

i want to Chew

And then there's a reflection of the stream audience in the audience of, like Wemmbu, and Manepear, which we get in inside flamefrags mind, like... can you back down when other people are looking at you expecting it, encouraging it, going through with it with or without you? You can't understand the - character of Flamefrags without putting that pressure somewhere. (i do like fics where these characters are streaming their own lives)

They blow up his house; Mane says it was just Wemmbu and that Wemmbu didn't know it was Flame's but we don't know. He was very suspicious and withheld for a long time but by the end of it he was joking with Pangi and putting real effort into making the fireplace look nice with the bricks and the grate. Like, like, like—You take - one step down a path you've been avoiding for so long because every time you've tried it leads to ruin. And then your friends burn it down. Don't go that way, even a little. Just blow stuff up, that's what's fun, that's what we do for fun. Not that.

. . . probably reading too much into it.

Also he said he expected that if he'd fought the six people everyone would've just run away as soon as he started winning/killed one person, and told Pangi his plans for later were getting enchanted apples, and just generally gave the impression that he could plausibly win a 6v1 by straightforwrdly having 20 hearts and notch apples and being Flamefrags. :) i am not immune to being an audience that thinks it's neat when he's super good at fighting. :) also also it's not just the four Declared Pacifists he's complaining about, they made a list of thirteen people on lifesteal who in general wouldn't fight (4c, zam, ecorridor, midmystixc, mrcube, pangi, squiddo, jaron, kaboodle, poafa, terrain, spepticle, woogie) and you could add or subtract a couple (pangi argued him out of bacon; uh, i do dispute,) but gosh that actully is a lot.

In conclusion Pangi's going to make a Flame Lore video and I hope it is Good and I can just point people at that when it's out 🙏

[autisticlalna]

recently in the sbk community discord: leon, is the moon big?

its been a while since ive done one of these, whoops. im still pretty tired, but something pretty interesting is going on i wanna make sure everybody's caught up on.

it starts a little bit before Leon's episode 17, "Something is VERY WRONG on the Skyblock Kingdoms SMP..." when we got a sudden teaser:

uh oh, gamers.

the discord jumps on checking Leon's namemc and get a better look at his tattered skin:

(^ courtesy of Aces! also this, which is not relevant but makes me laugh):

what with the end of the season on the horizon, the telescope, and Leon's physical state, we jumped straight to Moon Big jokes. then, another teaser:

what's it?

oh, frig, the Stronghold book. remember that thing?

fun fact: in an Avid stream i don't have energy to track down the clip of (7/18/24), he mentioned he was the one that wrote it OOC. i don't remember what else he said about it, but it's still around and is being kept at spawn. neat.

then Leon's premiere goes up and Rex notices something in the description.

out-of-body experience?

finally, the premiere itself.

One chilly, rainy evening. I had just finished admiring my pile of diamond tools. Before calling it a night, I decided to head upstairs and sit by the fire for a while. Rest the bones, warm the feathers, yaknow. When all of a sudden... A gust of wind, a burst of flame! Then, nothing. I blacked out.

[phantom screech] One quick thing before I go--

This wasn't like with the chorus fruit. This was very, very different. When I came to, I had this feeling of dread, of- of fear and- and paranoia, that I just couldn't shake. Constantly in my mind, constantly, I couldn't stop thinking: Something out there is.. watching.

and then his speech at the end.

I know you're out there. Fool me twice, shame on me, I'm not falling for this again! You got me before, but this time I'm standing my ground. I love this world and the people in it, and I swear on every fiber of my being you are not going to take this from me! He's out there, and I know it.

so.. not only is Leon being watched, but it's something he has history with.

[legundo voice] WELL THAT'S OMINOUS.

wait, hey, that's a fun transition. speaking of Legundo...

let's take a quick detour into the series Leon was in before SBK, UHC Generations. the core concept is that you're in ultra hardcore (so no natural regeneration), but when you die you pass the world on to someone else. Leon was the third generation, and after over half a year of owning the world he decided to end the series on his own terms, intentionally fell to his death, and passed it on to Josh CodeNeon. Josh later died himself and passed it onto Legundo, but not before building a little spot around a campfire where he was able to summon the ghosts of previous generations to talk to them.

cut to last month and Legundo's episode 5, "I Need To Fix This...", where he decides he needs to build a gold farm. one of Leon's big contribution to UHCG was redstone farms, so Legundo summoned his spirit for a quick chat as he showed off his idea on how to get the farm to work. there's some fun things from their conversation, though:

Legundo: How’s unexistence? Leon: Aw man, it’s a lot of void. I’ve missed this place Legundo: Some firm ground underneath your feet, nice memory Leon: It’s lovely, I haven’t felt the warmth of a campfire in a while, yeah

[Leon gets attacked by phantoms.] Legundo: Oh no, they don’t like that you're back Leon: Oh no, oh no, my ghost body is being eaten by phantoms Phantoms: [screech]

and, most importantly...

Leon: Ok, ok, well, you know on that note, one quick thing before I go, just uh, wanted to let you know. Legundo: Yea [zooms in on Leon’s face.] Leon: Will is coming.

(transcription by ComposerNicholas, just edited for formatting)

an out-of-body experience, huh?

One quick thing before I go.

Legundo called Leon back to UHC Generations while Leon was on Skyblock Kingdoms. Leon passed out on SBK, helped Legs out on UHCG, gave Legs a warning, and then woke up on SBK with sudden paranoia.

and we're still not done! because at the end of Leon's SBK episode, we get this:

(image brightened for visibility, sorry about the artifacting)

and ComposerNicholas pointed out that Leon's first UHCG episode has this in the intro:

in his UHCG finale, Leon describes the flashes of alternate realities and glitches he's been subjected to as the world nudging him to move on. it's tired of him, it needs new blood and to grow and change with fresh faces and new ideas. so it's time for Leon to go. Legundo himself later mentions "the will of the world"-- the world is as alive as the people that make it.

Legundo's episode ends on him giving himself a timer. either he dies before the timer ends, or he follows in Leon's footsteps and dies on his own terms to pass the world on. after all, he'd pretty much found a way to eliminate all risk of ultra hardcore, and Leon had reminded him what the true point of UHCG was. he can't stay here forever. as the generations say: death is inevitable.

..in ultra hardcore, anyway. not so much in Skyblock Kingdoms, no matter what the thing watching Leon wants him to think.

You got me before, but this time I'm standing my ground. I love this world and the people in it, and I swear on every fiber of my being you are not going to take this from me!

to try and wrap this up, here's some more words from Leon as we go further into insanity:

anyway, this is what i've been able to scrape together so far. as usual, im just able to collect the pieces and maybe tape some of them together. we got a very brief Nukeri in Viking's episode the same day as Leon's, and now we've.. i dunno, got hints about Legundo? but the more focal thing seems to be that the UHCG world may have convinced Leon to pass it on, but that doesn't mean he's free of it. part of him is always going to be there, in the memorials and by the campfire.

oh yeah also quillbee did a video where he rebuilt founder's town from memory and invited leon on to help

[wield-the-mighty-pen]

I’m curious to know what makes you like Ladrien. What’s the appeal? I have my reasons for why I dislike them, so I’m definitely interested to hear all about the other side.

Absolutely no hate, I’m just super curious

Hi! First of all, thank you for giving me an excuse to babble on about Ladrien 🥰

I just want to preface this by stating that it is my belief that people who don't like Ladrien, are those who don't really understand the ship and/or the beauty to the ship, so it would be my pleasure to talk about why I love them so much:

1. They are the pinnacle of Lovesquare mutual pining

I personally am a mutual pining fiend. If there is mutual pining in a ship, chances are you can find me onboard. Mutual pining is probably my favorite part of a ship timeline, I love the angst, the bitter-sweetness, the confused and pained but still loving interactions, and my friend, Ladrien has all that and a bag of chips.

The thing is, Adrien is in love with Ladybug, Ladybug is in love with Adrien, but there's a certain impossibility to their love. Ladybug doesn't know Adrien well enough to love him, so it would never cross his mind that she would even entertain him as a romantic interest. Adrien has hardly even interacted with Ladybug, so it certainly wouldn't make sense that he would have feelings for her, forget about being in love with her.

What cements these beliefs is the fact that they both know the other in very different circumstances. Chat Noir and Marinette both know that the person they are in love with is not fickle about their feelings and is not shallow about love, they aren't just going to fall in love with some random celebrity. What's even more so is the fact that Ladybug knows that Adrien is in love with someone (circa season 3) and Adrien knows that Ladybug is in love with someone (circa season 2), making it so that they believe that the others' affections are tied elsewhere, seemingly making them unavailable (hence the pining).

I also want to point out that Ladrien is also void of the friendships of Adrinette and Ladynoir, meaning the pining becomes even more powerful as they don't even have access to the comforts of friendship. They are apart in every painful way.

This all creates an environment where every interaction between the two is filled with this yearning tension of wanting to be closer, wanting to move closer, but having to stop themselves because it doesn't make sense, because they fear rejection, because they just can't.

2. They have amazing on-screen chemistry and interactions

If you don't watch any season 2 Ladrien scene with a giant smile on your face, then you are missing out. I chose to mention season 2 in particular, because it's the season with the most Ladrien interaction, but honestly, you can find amazing Ladrien in every season.

The way they both stare at each other in wonder, in the first ever Ladrien interaction might I add, in season one's episode "The Mime", was the perfect way to set the stage for what we were to expect from this ship. They love each other, they are amazed by each other, they make each other dizzy and distracted, it's beautiful and hopeful, and directly contrasts the very difficult interactions that Adrien has in the episode with his father. Whereas Adrien's family is a point of pain for him, Ladybug is the light, the hope for him

Just discussing my two favorite Ladrien scenes, their chemistry and brilliantly portrayed relationship is obvious. Firstly, there is the catch scene in "Gorizilla". I don't think this scene needs explanation, but my goodness it is one I like to talk/think about a lot. The way he portrays implicit trust in Ladybug, the way he fully believes that she will catch him, is just so djaskljdaksljdkals, it's so sweet to watch. But then, she catches him, and even without talking about the trope subversion (though it is important), the way that they stare at each other, how their sole focus is on each other, how the catch was fast and sudden, but then Ladybug slows down to make the descent more comfortable for Adrien, it's all just *chef's kiss*. Adrien is then so enamored and lovestruck, that he forgets where he is, he forgets who he is, and nearly exposes himself by using a term of endearment for his love, which is just the most Ladrien thing ever jdksadjaskld

Finally, I want to talk about my other favorite Ladrien scene, which is the panic attack scene at the end of "Strike Back". Here we see Ladybug coping with the worst betrayal she has ever endured, and at the hands of the person who looks identical to the boy standing in front of here. And with all that uncertainty and mistrust, he stays there, he comforts her, he talks her through her panic, through her next steps. And when he offers her to detransform in his bathroom, with only a door to prevent her reveal, despite being unsure and cautious, she ultimately decides to trust him. She puts her vulnerability into his hands and allows him to see her emotional vulnerability and potentially have access to her physical vulnerability.

(there are more scenes to talk about but for brevity's sake I will stop here)

3. They very obviously love and support each other, despite the circumstances of their relationship

Just drawing back to the episodes that were mentioned in the last point, just from viewing those two scene alone, it is obvious that though they both love each other, she also trusts him and he trusts her.

The truth of the matter is, no side of the lovesquare exists in a vacuum. The sides bleed and meld and create together some amalgamated item that will only feel whole when the full square is revealed. As such, the knowledge and feelings that they have as Adrinette and Ladynoir, are going to have some presence while they are Ladrien.

My point of mentioning this, is that trust and sensitivity for each other is going to be present in their relationship, even if they didn't necessarily reach that development as Ladrien. On paper, Ladrien is a superhero and a model who have only interacted a handful of times. And yet, to both of them, their relationship is so much deeper than that.

They know each other, they're familar with each other, and yet, they're not. Adrien knows how Ladybug will take a joke from Chat Noir, but he doesn't know how she'll take one from Adrien, or why there's a difference. Ladybug knows how Adrien will react to a gift from Marinette, but she doesn't know how he'll take one from Ladybug, nor why there might be a difference. Adrien might know Ladybug's favorite drink order, but he doesn't know her birthday, her parents' name, etc. And Likewise, Ladybug might know Adrien's favorite color, but she doesn't know what he does at night, where the ring on his finger is from.

And yet, despite all of this, despite only being familiar with half a person, they take that half and choose to love them whole-heartedly. They choose to take the information they have and trust that person blindly. Despite, the impossibility of their relationship, they choose to continue to hope.

Because they admire each other, they care for each other, they love each other, and they will do everything in their power to continue to do that. And I think that's beautiful.

There are more reasons, but these are the main three, and I doubt you want to hear me drone on, so hope this sufficed!

Thank you for the ask! <3

[clubdionysus]

[BAD DECISION #16] Overindulging

warnings: just a lovely little fluffy chapter!! breakfast food!! chatting about jaykay's big dreams!! we visit yoongi and he calls us out on our bullshit of being besties!! a very cursed bird falls </3

a/n: our first calamity of the purge - i cannot find the header image for this chapter ANYWHERE :( i've checked both laptops and my phone, know the exact date it was orginally posted (nov 20, 2022 if ur curious) and yet nothing - there's actually a few around this period which are lost in the void </3 the og was one of my fave headers too :( it had a cute lil market stall :( waaa

soundtrack: wish on an eyelash - mallrat

wc: 5.3k

bd total wc: 540k (ongoing)

AO3 | MASTERLIST | MINORS DNI

"So you really quit then, huh?" Jeongguk mumbles, before blowing against the top of his coffee. It's steaming hot, the cold air of a fast-approaching winter not enough to cool it down.

The pair of you walk by the canal that runs through the city; Jeongguk in his gym gear, his skin still a little clammy from his session, you in a pair of comfy sweats despite the fact you haven't worked out at all.

It's a Sunday, and neither of you slept much last night. He'd been behind the bar, and you'd been on the other side, disco balls in your eyes and trouble in the tequila smile that you were greeting him with every five minutes. It's not your fault that he was the most interesting guy in the bar all night.

You nod, taking a sip on your americano - still iced (because "warm coffee is for pussies" ).

"Wasn't getting my money's worth," you explain, but he knows this perfectly well. You only ever went to the gym to grumble about how much you hated it. That, and to pretend like you weren't looking at him in the mirror whenever he took off his lifting belt. He caught you every single time, but he'd grown to enjoy how shamesless you'd become with it. "Plus Danbi's finally nagged me into joining her pole class, so I'm-"

"Shut up," Jeongguk laughs, cutting you off with his exclamation. He briefly stops in his tracks. Looks at you all lovely and bemused. "You're not?"

You're almost offended by his disbelief.

"Oh, but I am, Jeon," you grin. It's not how you ever thought you'd get your primary source of exercise, but Danbi's core muscles have never looked better. You figure may as well give it a try. "Had my first class yesterday afternoon."

"Did you?" He asks, only waiting for a small hum before he questions you further. "How was it? Have fun?"

Truthfully, you've never been so quickly humbled. Danbi and the other girls in the class make it look effortless. It's a small group, and they've all been lovely and overwhelmingly encouraging, but you can't help but feel out of your depth.

"The pole spins," you tell him, because you can't believe you were the only person who didn't realise that. "Always thought it was the people spinning, but nope. Just the pole."

"What?!" He almost chokes, just as confused as you had been yesterday.

"My thoughts exactly! So yeah, that helps," you acknowledge, nudging his arm to push him in the direction of the street market.

It runs up a lane, connecting the canal to the main street, and has been active for hundreds of years. Old traders would dock their boats on the canal and set up shop down the alleyway, away from the prying eyes of the law enforcement looking for black market traders. These days, it's all flowers and produce, with the occasional hotteok stand during the winter.

Jeongguk's bag rustles as he hikes it a little further up his broad shoulder, sniffing sharply to clear his nose. It's the first sign of a winter cold, and he regrets not wearing a coat, now.

You're babbling on about your class, and how your legs have never been more bruised. You're not even sure he's really listening, but you don't mind. There's no pressure for him to retain this information, no pop quiz coming later.

You just enjoy each other's company. Talk about nonsense because you can. It's like you're playing a game of sims, prattling to one another just to make those little green plus marks hover above your head, your socialising bar restoring to full health.

"Honestly, you should see my legs - I look like a bloody watercolour painting. All purple and blue."

"Oh, yeah?" he finally responds with a teasing grin, glancing over to you as you meander towards a flower stall. It's small, but overflowing with native flowers. Considering how cold it's becoming and how orange the leaves are on the trees that line the river, it's nice to see some green. "Maybe next time I'm at the cafe, you'll have to live model for me."

You stop in your tracks. Bunch your face up like an old newspaper, as if he's just said the most offensive thing you've ever heard, and then you scoff.

Jeongguk turns to look at you fully, a goofy little smile on his pretty lips (though you really ought to stop thinking of his lips as being pretty ), and raises a brow. He's baiting you out. Teasing you. Was deliberately looking for a reaction like this, because he finds them funny.

Folding your arms, you knock your shoulder against him as you walk past and say, "you're never seeing me naked."

" Again ," he calls after you. "Never seeing you naked again ."

The ajumma sitting by her stall just a metre away, with her homegrown cucumbers and cabbages, scowls in Jeongguk's direction. Tuts beneath her breath. Looks away as he turns to apologise, his cheeks flaming red like they always do when he's had too much soju.

He's not had a drop all week, though. He's been working hard, and studying even harder. It's all work, no play. The walk home from the gym is the most free-time he's indulged in since he left your apartment last week.

You had been right in saying that the water pressure of his shower is far better than yours - but he'd insisted on showering at yours regardless. Together. Just friendly. Like you normally do. Didn't want to have to explain things to Jimin. Is still not exactly sure even he knows how to understand your friendship - just that he likes it, and he doesn't want to lose it.

He also likes the scent of your shampoo. Rummaged around in Jimin's old haircare stuff for a shower cap just so he could preserve it for an extra day. Doesn't tell you this though, as he thinks it's a bit weird.

Probably just as weird as the way you'd rearranged your pillows that night just to keep the scent of his aftershave close. You tell yourself it's a comfort thing. In all actuality, it most likely is.

"I can't believe you shouted that-"

"I didn't shout!"

"- In front of that poor old lady," you hiss beneath your breath as he finally catches up with you, now holding a cabbage. "Why do you have-"

"Felt bad. Bought a cabbage from her."

"The fuck are you gonna do with a cabbage?"

He shrugs. "Eat it?"

Nonchalant in the way he approaches life, Jeongguk feels like a summer breeze even as temperatures begin to dip below a comfortable level. You've got a heat pack in your pocket, and when Jeongguk sniffs again, you pass it over to him. Think that he needs it more. He tells you it's okay, and that it's fine, so you just stuff it in his pocket despite his protests.

By the time you've reached the end of the alley, Jeongguk is the one ignoring your protests as he pushes you forwards into a cafe. The buttery scent of fresh pastries is so heavenly that you're half convinced you did actually die of embarrassment when he announced his awareness of your bare skin to the entire neighbourhood.

Various loaves of bread line the counter towards the front of the shop, golden brown and just begging for you to buy every single one of them. Pastries, cakes, too. It's overwhelming.

"They do the best french toast," he promises you - and how can you refuse?

You're practically salivating as Jeongguk plonks you down by the window of the only free booth. It's tucked away slightly, but offers the perfect people-watching spot - which is why it's his favourite seat in the entire cafe. He tells you to wait there while he orders at the counter.

You're too busy people-watching, but you notice the lack of his presence. The cafe feels duller. Less warm. Less inviting. Less... like home. He's taking longer than you thought he would.

Perhaps there was a queue? You can't see from your vantage point - but, eventually, you can see Jeongguk as he comes to stand in front of the window with a closed-lip smile, his silver ring flipping in the corner of his mouth. In his hand is a small bouquet of posies. Wildflowers, you think, from the stall down the other end of the alley. He must have sprinted. The way his chest heaves a little confirms this.

"For you," he says as he comes to sit opposite you a moment later, holding them out for you to take. There's a variety of flowers in the bunch, tied with a white ribbon, but you don't know the name of any of them. You just know that they're beautiful. He senses your confusion, so he clarifies. "An apology. Sorry for telling the entire street I've seen your tits."

You narrow your eyes. Tilt your head. Jeongguk thinks you look like a little puppy. Tells you so.

"Careful, or you'll have to buy me more to make up for the fact you just called me a dog," you tease as he places a small black disk down on the table. It's from the front counter, given to him when ordered the food. On the side, a bright red 07 lets you know your order number.

"I like dogs," he says as he shakes his hoodie off, tucking it over the back of his chair. "It's a compliment."

Sometimes, you forget Jeongguk has tattoos. His eyes are so doe-like, his nature so tepid and warm, that the idea of him engaging in anything remotely painful shocks you - but you've also seen how hard he goes at the gym, and have also felt his firm grip on your body. You know he most likely finds pleasure in a little pain.

They trail up his arm, thick intricate lines mapping out his identity for all to see - or at least the parts of him he doesn't mind other people knowing. If you didn't know Jeongguk, you'd be able to learn a lot about him from his arms - right down to the fact that one of them covered in ink, while the other is pristine and free of it. He's a man of two halves, and you're lucky enough you get to indulge in both.

"What?" He grins when he realises you're contemplating something.

"Just not sure I forgive you," you tease, crossing your arms in an attempt to make it look like you weren't reminding yourself of the way his fingers - the ones with the tattoos - feel inside of you. It was only a brief thought, but any thoughts like that outside the confines of a fallen bird are dangerous, you decide.

"Got you flowers, got you brunch - what more do you need?!"

You sharply inhale some air, teeth gritted, eyes to the sky in contemplation. "More compliments."

Jeongguk has to try really hard not to roll his eyes. He looks around, as if he's scared someone will hear him, licks the corner his of mouth and shakes his head.

" Fine . I like your outfit."

"Pathetic," you say almost immediately. "If I wanted appearance compliments, I'd go on tinder."

"You have tinder?"

"Give me something that's actually a compliment. Something none of my tinder boys could say."

"You have tinder boys?"

"And girls," you shrug.

The truth of the matter is that you have neither at the moment. The app lies dormant on your phone, unused because you just can't be arsed with the hassle. There are only so many times you can be asked if you're 'open-minded ' or if you live alone. As much as you don't mind hooking up with strangers in bars, you hate meeting people off of apps. It's too much pressure.

Still, you don't let Jeongguk derail the conversation, although you can see that behind his eyes there are some cogs turning. Whatever he's thinking will take a while to formulate. You know what he's like now; how he likes to think things through before he says them.

"So," you lift a shoulder, lazily shrugging. "Compliment?"

He reclines back into his chair. Finds himself narrowing his eyes like you so often do. You're challenging him, and he's weighing up how much of a chance he has of winning. Thinks his odds are pretty high.

"Tae couldn't have sorted out his art show without you."

As much as you wanna pretend like it isn't exactly the sort of thing you wanted to hear, a smile forms on your face. Acknowledgement of your hard work is always appreciated. You press your lips together, but still, a smug grin prevails.

"Nah, seriously, Byeol," he adds on. "Thank you. I mean it. It's been Tae's dream since I met him. You've no idea how cool it is to watch all of this happen."

"I played a tiny part," you smile, secretly enamoured with how happy he is for his friend's success.

It's a trait that says a lot about Jeongguk. Who he is as a person. Makes it all the more clearer as to why he's so keen on helping you with your issues. He wants the people he cares about to thrive, no matter the circumstance.

"So? The nozzle is a tiny part of a fountain gun," he says, making reference to the bar he works behind. "But without it? The drink would go everywhere. It's important. You're important."

"You're giving me far too much credit," you deflect, a little embarrassed, now.

He shakes his head. "I'm not giving you enough."

He holds your gaze for a moment. Wants you to know that he really does mean what he's saying. He wouldn't bother hyping you up if he didn't genuinely think it. He knows Tae well, and knows he has enough drive to make his dreams come true, but he had been drawing blanks recently - until you came along.

It's not just the space of the art cafe that's helped, but you willingness to help market it, get the news out to local artist circles that Tae wasn't privvy to. You've taken insurmontable wieghts from his shoulders. All Jeongguk could do was put posters up in the bathroom stalls of Dionysus.

"What about you?" You ask, wanting to move the focus away from yourself. "What's your big dream?"

He goes to speak, but is cut off the by the small black disk with a flashing 07 on the side of it. The vibration tone is so loud that it actually makes him jump.

"Hold that thought," he says as he heads off to the counter to retrieve the food, leaving you to watch the window once more - but you find yourself glancing in the mirror that's up on the back wall.

The woman at the counter smiles at him, and you see him bow slightly as he says thank you. His manners are never forgotten.

You bet he's the kind of customer the girl behind the counter will daydream about coming in again. A takeaway order, maybe. He'll stand by the till and wait for it, chitchatting with her. She'd hope he would enjoy her company and make himself a repeat customer. One day, eventually, he'd ask what she's doing after work. Ask if she wants to grab a drink, or something.

But Jeongguk is Jeongguk. Even if he wanted to, he wouldn't.

You know this.

Still, you find yourself dreaming up this little hypothetical life for him; one in which his fears don't exist anymore.

When he returns, he pretends he didn't see you looking.

"Samgyeopsal," he simply states, as he organises the plates to make them look pretty, just in case you wanna take a picture.

"What of it?"

He's proven right as you pull your phone out and open up the camera. Tweaking a plate ever so slightly, you're impressed with his arrangement. He's got an eye for composition. You're less impressed with the fact he sticks his middle finger up in the background of your shot.

"Child," you scold. He just sticks his tongue out to further solidify your point.

"Well," he hums as he redistributes the plates and hands you some cutlery. "I really enjoy working at the bar, but I hate not being able to make big decisions about what happens there - here -" He passes you the tiny jar of syrup that came with your french toast. "- and so I'd like to own my own place. Thing is, I really fucking love samgyeopsal."

"Oh yeah?" You laugh at how much he exaggerates his tone.

"Love it more than maybe anything else on this planet."

"Even me?"

"Oh, especially you."

"Rude."

"Shut up," he laughs, focusing his attention on his croque monsieur. "Anyways, I think it would be really cool to have my own joint, yanno? Decorate how I like, serve my favourite side dishes. Get a good team working for me - probably would poach Yeonjun from the bar."

"He'd do well in a restaurant," you nod. "Good people person."

"Exactly," Jeongguk beams, thinking about the prospects all over again. "I even know the exact building I wanna be in."

"Really?"

"Mhmm," he confirms, swallowing down a bite of warm bread and cheese - no ham ,though. They really scrimped on the ham. He'd never scrimp on meat in his place. When you notice how furrowed his brows are, as if he's furious for how delicious his food is, you smile. "Few streets over from your work. There's been a vacant unit next to the makgeolli bar for a little while. I've registered my interest, but like - I'm still in fucking school." He laughs now. It's all a bit of a pipe dream. "I need to speak with investors. Raise funds. That's what scares me the most."

"Oh?" You encourage him, not wanting to interrupt his train of thought - and also not wanting to stop eating. He was right. The french toast is to die for.

"I know all of the hospitality tricks," he continues. "Been working long enough to know how to run a place on the people side of things, but I'm a bit out of my depth when it comes to business."

"Do you not cover that at school?" You question with genuine curiosity. "Thought you were under the business faculty?"

"I am," he nods, pleased that you have apparently been listening to him. "But you can only be taught so much, yanno? Nothing compares to actually experiencing it. It's the little things, like bank meetings, and shit. That's what's scaring me."

Funny. You'd never really considered that Jeongguk's fear of rejection could trickle down so far into his bones. It's like he's fearful nothing he wants is a viable option - career path included.

"Have you spoken to Yoongi?" You ask, mindlessly soaking up the maple syrup on your plate with a chunk of french toast. "He's got his own studio, right? He's gone through this process?"

Jeongguk nods. "Something similar, I suppose. Hospitality is a little different to what he does. I think technically - when it comes to tax and shit - he's listed as a construction worker?"

He laughs, and shakes his head. Has seen Yoongi painstakingly craft the most beautifully ornate home furnishings. Thinks he couldn't be further from a construction worker if he tried (though Yoongi would argue that the red pine hanoks he built with his own bare hands beg to differ).

"To be fair," he considers, "I actually need to pop by Yoongi's on my way home."

"Oh?"

"There's some work to do at the bar out back. Boss wants to convert the little courtyard next to the staff room into the smoking area, and change the existing smoking area into a patio bar," Jeongguk sighs as he rolls his eyes. He thinks they may as well just add a bar to the existing smoking area and leave the courtyard free - mainly because he likes to hide there on the nights he can't be fucked with punters. Only for a minute or so. Maybe five minutes. No longer than ten. Apart from that one time he fell asleep, but that's neither here nor there. "Doesn't wanna hire workers though, so yours truly has been tasked with the job. Gonna get Yoongi's advice on it."

You nod. Remind yourself of what Jeongguk looks like with a lifting belt on, and replace it in your mind with a tool belt. Press your lips together. Your legs, too.

"What?" He asks, when you shift away from him slightly.

"Oh, no, nothing," you smile, deflecting. "Just really good food."

He narrows his eyes. Chooses not to press. Has no idea that you're getting yourself all flustered because of him . Instead, he hauls the conversation forward - asks you about your dreams instead, where you want to end up in life. It's a big question, you tell him, and he agrees - but he finds fantasising about future possibilities fun. Gets you thinking in hypotheticals. Lottery wins, winning a free trip to a country of your choice, only having one day to live - that kind of shit.

The conversation carries on for far too long. Brunch is long gone, and Jeongguk suggests another drink not once, but twice. Orders some french toast for himself, and gets you a cake from the counter even though you insisted on not wanting anything, just because he doesn't wanna eat alone.

Midafternoon sun encroaches on your window spot, and he finds himself grinning whenever the glitter catches in the light. There are a few rogue specks that have strayed from your eyes. He leaves the ones on your cheeks alone, but reaches over and dusts off the ones that are on your forehead. Says nothing as he does so. You just let him, and continue talking.

He can encroach on your personal space and recieve zero complaints. You're comfortable. The significance isn't lost on him, but it is tucked away into a safe part of brain, not to be distrubed for the time being.

Once he's done with his french toast (and also done complaining about the fact he's eaten so much he might die ), you head on your way.

There's a chill to the air that wasn't present earlier, and you know that you're gonna have to start wrapping up a lot warmer soon. You hate how quickly summer turns into winter - autumn is far too fleeting.

As soon as the leaves turn golden brown, they've fallen, only for the snow to fall just as quickly as soon as the New Year arrives. You've a month or so to go.

"Best season," Jeongguk says as he kicks a few leaves that are brittle and brown, settled on the pathway, crunching beneath his feet. He loves the rustle of autumn leaves.

Loves the blossom season in spring, too, and will swear that it's his favourite season instead come April.

The cycles of life; evidence that life goes on, always. No matter how defeatist he can be, no matter how much he can fear the variables of the future, it's proof that there invariably will be one.

He leads you through a twisted road of alleys, that you'd no doubt get lost in without him, before eventually reaching Yoongi's studio. "I'll be quick, promise."

And how can you refuse? You owe him for the food, and know that he absolutely will not accept it when you try and pay him back, so not kicking up a fuss or complaining is the least you can do. It's not like you have plans for the afternoon. Had sort of figured you'd spend it hanging out with him anyways.

You're also really nosey. Are intrigued by Min's. Wanna see inside the studio, to see if it looks like how you've imagined it to(though you have already looked at the instragram, so you reckon you've got a fair idea in your head).

Jeongguk ushers you up a narrow staircase that brings you above a mandu restaurant. The smell of hot oil and fresh dough wafts in the air and follows you up the stairs, while Jeongguk whinges about being hungry again.

He absolutely cannot be hungry already, but he swears down that he'll die (a common complaint from him) if he doesn't have some mandu soon. You put your palms on his lower back and encourage him up the stairs, stopping him from turning around when he tries.

It's only made worse when you enter Min's studio, only to find Yoongi munching on flat mandu. Jeongguk whines again. Tells Yoongi that he's being cruel, then tells you the same thing for your refusal of allowing him to indulge in such a delicacy.

Yoongi just looks at the pair of you a little bewildered, half a mandu in his mouth, the rest held snug between his chopsticks. He swallows down the food and raises his brows. "Can I help you?"

As it turns out, he can. Jeongguk explains the task at hand - "ballache, if you ask me" - and Yoongi offers to help, free of charge, without even batting an eyelid. Brushes his hands off on his dark grey apron, tosses the empty paper container of his mandu into the bin, and sets about finding that right tools for the job.

It's a no-brainer to him: invest in the people you care about, and they'll invest back. He knows that Jeongguk would help him in a heartbeat, too - and he will also be sure to remind him of this moment in the future when he's in desperate need of a bar space for a showcase.

Min's is everything you thought it would be.

Deceptively large, it has more than enough room for there to be a few extra members of staff - but Yoongi works best alone. Likes his solitude. The rowdiness of his friendship group more than makes up for how quiet his job is - and when the saws and sanders are blaring, it'd be redundant having other people to socialise with.

The back wall showcases more saws than any one man could possibly need, but they all serve a distinct purpose that Yoongi would argue couldn't be achieved with anything else. In all truth, he's skilled enough to be able to mimic the texture and appearance of certain saws, but he likes doing things the old-fashioned way; as they should be done.

There's a stack of wooden boards on his work table, that he's been sanding by hand because there's something far richer about the finish than when they're machine done. He'll charge a little extra for these ones - and it'll be paid without hesitation because of how beautiful they are.

"Has he mentioned dinner at our place to you, yet?" Yoongi asks when Jeongguk finally makes a break for it to go and buy some mandu.

You glance over to him from the display unit, where small ornate objects sit, perfectly polished and prettily waiting for new homes. "Dinner?"

Yoongi nods. "Our place. Weekend before Tae's show - has he really not mentioned it? I've reminded him twice already."

Shaking your head, you laugh. "Boy's got a complex. Not good with invites."

It's something Yoongi is well aware of - after all, he'd been the one to watch Jeongguk with you, a smile on his face, as he finally spoke to a new girl at the bar a few weeks back.

"Mhmm," Yoongi hums. "Just didn't realise it applied to you, too."

"Doesn't normally," you admit, trying to hide the slight confusion you feel. It really is out of the ordinary - he usually invites you to things to avoid having to invite an actual girl. Makes you feel a little insecure. "Maybe he just doesn't fancy me being there?"

"Who doesn't want you where?" Jeongguk says through a muffled mouthful of mandu, pushing the studio door open with his shoulder. Stops in his tracks when he sees Yoongi slowly fold his arms over his chest, giving him a hard stare. "Ah. That ."

He glances over to you, noticing your furrowing brows and the hurt that's delicately kissing your features. It's faint. Barely there. But he knows you well enough now to know exactly when you're feeling affronted.

"So you don't want me there-"

"No!" Jeongguk chimes before you've fully finished your question. "No, no. It's not that, I just keep forgetting. Honestly."

He really does. The last time Yoongi sent him a reminder, he'd been on his way to the art cafe hell-bent on getting forgiveness. And like, he did get it, so it's not like it was a fruitless endeavour. Ended up nearly getting laid in the process, but that's neither here nor there.

Yoongi sighs. "If you want a job done properly, do it yourself."

And then he's the one to invite you for dinner. "Our place. Seoyeon is dying to meet you."

You say yes in a heartbeat, as you've been dying to meet her, too. Yoongi says he'll just bypass Jeongguk next time and invite you himself, to which Jeongguk doesn't protest like you half think he will.

In fact, Jeongguk actually really likes that Yoongi considers you a part of the group. Likes that you're becoming their friend, not just his.

Jeongguk's eyes are warm as he looks over to you; teacups full of steaming americanos. Enough caffeine to keep you up for hours, but cosy enough to calm the shakes. And, just like a good cup of coffee, you find yourself always going back for more. Warm coffee might be for pussies, but maybe you'll make an exception this time.

Eventually, Yoongi shoos you both out of the studio. He's got work to finish, and you're distracting him as you mess around with the soldering pen he uses to sign his work. Neither you nor Jeongguk can really work it properly, and are just using it to write profanities on scrap wood anyways.

"You're like a pair of flirting teenagers," Yoongi scolds. He actually quite enjoys the way you banter together. It's nice seeing Jeongguk like him old self again - but he worries. Knows what happened the last time Jeongguk got a little too close to a girl who was 'just a friend' - so he deliberately makes things awkward to force a little self-reflection upon his friend. "If I didn't know the pair of you, I'd think you were fucking, or something."

The way Jeongguk glances over towards you is nefarious; a reminder that what's done in the dark should remain in the shadows.

That's the thing about Jeongguk, though. There's no hiding him. He'll shine even in the darkest of rooms - and when he's facing a girl with enough glitter to rival a mirrorball, his shine would only ever be amplified.

Still, he gags and tells Yoongi not to be a 'weirdo,' and that 'guys and girls can be friends without fucking,' and asks 'do you not have any girl friends?' then says 'like, literally, what the fuck Yoongi?' and 'take that back ' and 'we'd never fuck' and 'we're not even each other's type' and-

"You're deflecting a little hard, there, Gguk."

All you can do is laugh. Yoongi's right. He is deflecting hard.

Plus, on a technicality, you haven't fucked Jeongguk. Not really.

Which is probably a good thing, considering that when you arrive back at Jeongguk's place, there's a single bird waiting on his bed for you both.

The folds are pristine. Expert. His .

He looks at you as you read it to yourself first. Isn't sure if you're grimacing or smiling. Thinks both would be bad, given the nature of literally every single bird on his ceiling.

"So?"

You eventually look up at him, and turn the bird around for him to read:

Let a friend set me up.

"So," you take a deep breath and smile. It's convincing. "Looks like I have to arrange you a blind date."

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