#just with a little bit of brain getting a bit silly in the background of my mind

[angeltism]

so fucking bored oh my god ughhh

[emeritusemeritus]

Charming Witches [Fred Weasley]

Title: Charming Witches [Fred Weasley]

Pairing: PregnantWife!Reader x Fred Weasley, background Hermione X Ron.

Timeline: Set after canon (Fred lives!)

Summary: Ron has an embarrassing issue and unluckily for him, Fred is the only one that can help.

Warnings: Mentions of pregnancy, babies, established relationships. Sexual references throughout. Fred has a bit of a breeding kink- shock. Just a silly little drabble I couldn’t get out of my mind. Fred is a bit mean and sarcastic to Ron.

Word count: 1.6k

"You're, you know... well, sort of, um."

"You'll get there eventually Ronald," Fred jokes with a straight face, half listening to his brother's whispered fumbles whilst he pours himself and his wife a drink, not bothering to offer his youngest brother one. If Fred had even bothered to look at Ron's face, he'd have seen he was as pink in the cheeks as a bottle of love potion, his blush so vivid that he looked ready to erupt with a face full of dragon pox any moment.

Ron clears his throat, trying again, as he casts a nervous glance around the Burrow's kitchen, checking no one was hearing this. He didn't know why he'd chosen Fred of all people to have this conversation with, in theory George would have been a much better choice but he didn't have the same 'qualifications' as his twin, seeing that you and Fred had been together for absolutely years.

"Well, umm," he freezes under Fred's quick but glance, silently telling him to spit it out. "Well you and y/n, you're in sync aren't you... Sexually?"

Whatever Fred was expecting to hear eventually tumble out of his brother's mouth was not even close to the reality and he can't stop his eyebrows from shooting halfway up his forehead instinctively in disbelief.

"Did my very pregnant wife give it away?" He snarks, leaning against the counter and taking a sip of the beer he'd poured, openly enjoying the discomfort his brother was radiating. "That might have been your first clue."

Ron somehow looks paler underneath all the blushing and Fred is revelling in his ability to make his brother squirm.

"Well, yeah I suppose," Ron mumbles, beginning to get defensive and deeply regretting opening up to the trickier twin.

"Calm down Ronald," Fred says, "you and Granger having bedroom troubles?"

"No!" Ron bites back a little too quickly but his resolve breaks under a few seconds of Fred's probing gaze, arms folded in an unconscious power stance. "Maybe."

He's quiet again for a few moments and Fred is uncharacteristically patient whilst he waits for Ron to collect his thoughts.

"How many times would you say is normal, like in a week?"

"Don't know if there's a 'normal' Ronniekins," Fred says with a shrug. "Most days and twice on a Sunday?"

Though he hides it this time, Fred revels in the look of utter horror Ron's eyes convey and it's like he can see the cogs in his brain working on overdrive, emitting smoke as they crumble and break. Evidently, his answer was light years away from what Ron had hoped for. He knows that his wife being ready to pop at any second only helps Ron believe his words and he mentally thanks Godric Gryffindor himself for the overly fortunate timing.

"Don't think it matters mate really; as long as you're both expecting about the same." This time, Fred actually thinks he's being reassuring.

"She just wants to read all the bloody time, even in bed! It's like I'm a bloody afterthought."

"Have you even met your girlfriend?"

This time it's Fred who pauses when he meets the icy glare of his younger brother. He sighs and a slightly awkward silence falls between the pair as they both try to think of how to fix whatever was going on in Ron's mind, hoping that two head were better than one.

"You two alright?"

Ron jumps out of his skin when he hears your slightly concerned greeting upon seeing the two brothers, Fred especially, in near silence.

"Don't tell me you forgot I was here," you joke to Ron, walking over to Fred as he holds out your waiting drink. "Been your sister in law for five years! Plus the bump makes me pretty memorable," you add with a smile.

"I'll say," Fred says with a wink, the cheeky glint in his eyes ever more sparkling as he looks at your bulging tummy, unashamedly ogling your pregnant form. You gently nudged him, silently telling him to be quiet but as you do so, you catch a slightly glare aimed at your husband from Ron.

"Am I interrupting? " You ask outright, sensing tension.

"No," says Fred almost immediately.

"A bit," Ron admits, cringing slightly before he lets out a loud yelp, having been smacked upside the back of the head by his older brother for his disrespect. He grumbles slightly under his breath, absently rubbing the back of his head where Fred's hand had connected to him and let's put a deep sigh.

"You're a girl," he says, averting his eyes anywhere except directly on your own.

Fred snickers at Ron's feeble and clumsy attempt at starting the conversation but opts to take a long swig of his beverage to avoid anymore laughter spilling out, though his delight still shines through his eyes.

"Only when it's not a full moon," you jest, trying to slice through the awkwardness Ron is emitting.

"Forget it, you're as bad as he is."

"Firstly I'm offended," you say, reaching out for his arm gently as you feel his begin to pull away, ignoring your husband's opposition. "Secondly, yes I'm a girl... go on."

"Well," he pauses, gathering courage, long ginger lashes covering his shy eyes that still raise no further than your ankles, "say Fred suddenly didn't want sex."

"Wouldn't happen."

"Fred shush."

"Well... say suddenly he wanted to read at nighttime over having sex."

"Again, wouldn't happen."

"Fred!" You hush him again, this time more firmly.

"How would you go about trying to, you know, fix it."

You were certain you'd never seen Ron this vividly pink in the cheeks before, he looked like he'd been decorated up to display in Umbridge's office.

"That's the problem? Hermione wants to read instead of sex?" You ask, not really seeing the big issue, but trying to say it gently so that you didn't spook him.

He nods, "but it's all the time," he adds, justifying his gripe.

"Well," you say, lowering yourself into Arthur's seat at the head of the kitchen table only a few feet away, unable to stand much longer. "Play her at her own game."

"Eh?" The brothers ask in sync, their faces scrunched into an almost identical confused expression. You simply shrug.

"Make yourself less available to her, pull back a bit," you say, taking a sip of your drink to wet your lips. "Start reading in bed just like she does, act like you're not interested in just sex."

"So I act like I'm not bothered even though I am?" He asks, still not following what you're saying.

"Sort of," you say, trying to find a better way of wording it.

"Reading's always been her favourite thing to do hasn't it? Join in on it. I'd bet on my life that she has a fantasy of you in bed shirtless reading beside her. Stop making advances, let her come to you."

"That's actually quite clever," he says after a few moments of consideration.

"It's been known."

"Shirtless?" He asks with a frown, seemingly fixating on that point.

You chuckle nodding, "well you have to still appeal to her, you don't want it to just be a study session do you?"

"Right, right," he says with a nod, a slight smile returning to his face before it dramatically falls away in an almost comedic move.

"I don't have a book."

"What do you mean you don't have a book?" Fred says in a flabbergasted manner, earning a slight but unconscious raise of your eyebrow. Though you didn't comment on the irony of his words considering you couldn't remember the last time you'd seen him so much as skim the daily prophet.

"I don't really have one," Ron mumbles quietly, "unless my quidditch annual counts."

"It doesn't," you say firmly.

"So I need a book," Ron says firmly, as if he was cementing the plan in his mind, nodding along with his thoughts until he finally makes eye contact. "Thanks y/n," he says with a smile and a nod of his head before he walks away, a bounce in his step.

"Think it's actually gonna work?" Fred asks as you pry yourself out of the chair and walk to stand next to him as you place your empty cup in the sink.

You let out a little chortle and shrug, "well if it doesn't, at least Hermione can read in peace."

Laughter bursts out of Fred and he pulls you close, bump nestled between you as he delights in your words, realising you had absolutely no idea if the plan would work.

Later that evening when everyone was preparing to leave the Burrow after another wonderful family dinner, Ron pulls you and Fred to one side before he left, away from the eyes and ears of everyone else.

"Thanks again for earlier," he says, clearly feeling more at ease about his issue. You smile warmly in reply, happy to help.

"No problem little brother," Fred beams, as if it was him that had offered any advice.

"Oi Ron," you call out quietly to get his attention as he turns to leave. With a smile, you reach down into the bag on your shoulder and pull out an item you'd gleefully searched for in Fred and George's old bedroom after the conversation. "Just incase my advice doesn't work."

Ron frowns reaching for the item you were handing him, a frown that only deepens as he reads the title of the book he was now holding. Fred's laughter is sudden and booming as his eyes land on the once familiar item that had him cracking up laughing, realising instantly what it was.

Twelve fail-safe ways to charm witches.

"Oh piss off."

Taglist part 1

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[kalied0skull]

in honor of 420 and 100 followers, i thought it'd be utmost appropriate to draw the curtis gang smoking straight ZAZA !

now playing: Let's Go Get Stoned – Sublime ♪

easter? whazzat. i dunno what EASTER is... i only know that it's fo' twen-tee baby!

★ ramble under the cut!

I don't condone weed usage under the age of 21, but i DO condone fictional characters gettin' a little high on the day of Mary Jane's birthday

fun fact it's actually my stoner grandmother's birthday today, so if it's your birthday on 420 today, you're cool and awesome and i wish you a happy birthday

anyways, for some background to this picture because for some reason my brain was making a fanfiction about these guys getting high while i was drawing:

two-bit brought the goods, dallas brought the bong, johnny rolled that shit.

ponyboy and soda BOTH had to beg darry to let them get high, to which darry begrudgingly obliged — so long as everyone stayed inside so they didn't get stuck in any trouble anywhere. and also he got high too. (it took a LOT of convicing though)

I've mentioned it before in my soda & steve smoking doodles, but I'm convinced they just get reaaaaaallly clingy with each other when high. and quiet. like, they're only whispering, and it's only to each other kind of quiet.

dallas is just there for the vibes, he's probably joking around with johnny because those two are the biggest stoners imaginable on the downlow, so everyone's fucked up n they're just straight chilling.

i can only imagine ponyboy as getting the WORST hypersensitivity when he gets high, feeling literally everything and hearing too much and seeing the colors and lights much too bright for his liking. it's like the whole world gets louder, and he HATES it. but thankfully for his silly friend johnny—the only guy that he can have a comfortable high around—he's doing moderately okay.

two-bit is simply a show off, no other way to put it. and he ABSOLUTELY REGRETS IT TOMORROW. getting cross-faded is always a terrible idea, and he KNOWS it. but is that stopping him? hell nah. and dallas does it too. but dallas isn't as effected because he can handle his weight n' knows his limits. TWOBIT DOESN'T 💀

in my eyes, everytime darry gets high he either ends up across town or he ends up having an existential crisis. in this scene, he's having an existential crisis. probably about paul. he's most definitely thinking about all of his deepest regrets and deepp rooted trauma in that chair. is he saying shit about it? nnnnnope.

these guys are so ridiculous — i could've done something serious for the 100 followers special, but i saw this as a PERFECT opportunity when i realized what day it was. thankyou to all the people who like the stuff i post, this one goes out to you !!! 🫵😼

genuinely could not be happier to have a little community to myself to run over to every day n just Spit Shit and everyone goes "Hell Yeah." it's so fun and so cool and awawawaaahhh I couldn't be happier to have moots and lovely oomfs :D

also, unrelated, but i actually do not associate the song with the scene happening here just because the lyrics aren't matching well BUT the title was fitting, so... (idek if people actually listen to the songs i list??? i just do it for fun anyways, it's a really nice divider imo)

ant-ee-who. i really loved this drawing, even though i major rushed it in the span of [checks timelapse] around 2 hours. :3c

[miloscozycorner]

𝐜𝐫𝐚𝐲𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐝𝐬.

Caregiver!Wanda Maximoff x Regressor!Reader

• After a meltdown makes you go nonverbal, Wanda helps you communicate your big feelings together.

cw: age regression

( 1109 Words )

The fuzzy carpet felt cool on your bare legs, your oversized shirt scrunching up and resting on your upper thighs. The room had grown chilly from Wanda opening the porch door just a crack, the wind sneaking its way into the living room.

Your tears had finally dried, your chin now resting on your crossed arms. It felt silly, the meltdowns. It just got all too much. The lights, the noises. Trying to make your brain be a bigger kiddo, make the words come out right.

But Wanda understood it all, of course. She always did. When the words had started to jumble on your tongue, and when with a cry of frustration you had given up, she was quick to sit. Quick to let you squeeze her hand until it grew pale.

“Hey bubby. I got you your cards.”

Wanda’s voice drew you out of your thoughts, and you craned your neck to see her patter towards you, taking a crossed legged seat on the carpet a few steps away from you.

“Mama even added some stickers,” she added, her lips curling upwards when you let out a soft giggle. Your eyes followed the stickers on the laminated cards, a variety of animals stuck on them.

You took a moment to shuffle through the cards, before picking one to show. The word “like” was printed on it in bold letters, with a galaxy themed background. Wanda had let you help make all the cards months ago.

With a tap, you showed Wanda the card, and she tilted her head towards the sticker arrangement. “You like the stickers, munchkin?”

An enthusiastic nod.

Wanda paused, spreading the cards before glancing at you. Her playful expression died down, her face turning a bit more serious. But the softness in her eyes and the gentle tilt of her lips remained.

“Do you want to talk to mama about those big feelings you had?” Wanda suggested, glancing up at you. You took a breath in, your brows furrowing while you searched for a card.

“Yes”.

Wanda nodded, shuffling in place. “Okay little one, good job using your cards!” she praised, not missing the ways your eyes lit up from it. “Now, can you tell me what was making those big feelings overflow?” she questioned, tilting her head.

You hesitated, chewing your bottom lip before answering. “Loud”. “Light”. “Hungry”.

“And all that together made you feel not so good, bunny?” You hummed in agreement, slightly frowning. Wanda was quick to notice, adding on reassurance. “And you know that’s okay, honey. I know it can get pretty overwhelming. But mama got you a snack, and a worksheet. How would you feel about trying that?”

There was a brief pause before you gave a nod of agreement, and observed Wanda stand up, disappearing for a moment down the hallway before coming back, a slip of paper and a box of crayons in hand and a bag of Goldfish in the other.

She sat down cross-legged once more, this time beside you instead of across from you. Your shoulders relaxed, a flutter in your stomach forming when she sat.

“Do you want to sit in mama’s lap? Or, we can sit beside each other and I can help you color.” Wanda offered, waiting for you.

For a moment it seemed she almost forgot until she added on, quick to repair her mistake. “Oh goodness! I’m sorry honey. Mama almost forgot you’re not up for words today. I know big words are difficult for tiny babies! How about you hold up one finger for sitting in my lap, and two for coloring together? Is that okay, little bird?”

You gave a small smile at her remembrance, before holding up one finger. Wanda’s lips curled upwards, grinning happily at you before scooping you under your arms and adjusting you to sit on her thigh. The scent of strawberry perfume calmed your senses further, any lingering weight on your chest fading away.

She stretched her arms over to the coffee table next to you, grabbing a hard-cover book and placing the sheet on top of it, before adjusting it so it was on top of your lap.

“Now, you see all these colors? We can use these colors to fill up the cup to show how you were feeling earlier. So, blue is for sad. Green is for scared. Red is for mad. Yellow is for embarrassed. Can you do that for me, honey?”

You gave a nod, picking out the green crayon first and allowing Wanda to sneak a couple Goldfish into your mouth to chew. Your hand hesitated, hovering over the paper before filling half the cup with green.

After a moment, you added some yellow. Your grip on the crayon grew more sturdy, less shaky.

Wanda watched carefully, helping you take more bites of your snack. Then a bit of blue, finishing the cup.

The crinkling of the Goldfish bag and the scents of the newly bought crayons made a soft smile tug at your lips just ever so slightly, the fear, the anxiety, everything, slipping out of your grasp.

You looked up at Wanda for approval, giggling when she gave you a wide grin.

Wanda gave a hum of approval, setting the empty bag of Goldfish down next to her as you showed the piece to her. “Wow, bubby! You did such a good job drawing out all of those big feelings for mama,” she praised, sticking a light kiss on your forehead.

She adjusted you momentarily, her strong arms lifting you gently under your armpits, settling you on her hip. The paper was placed neatly on the coffee table by the pack of crayons, and your deck of communication cards were placed in your hand.

“Do you want to go cuddle upstairs with mama?” Wanda offered, stopping by the kitchen to throw away your bag and glancing down at you.

You flipped through your cards. “Yes.” More shuffling. “Please.”

“Oh my, such a good job using your cards, bubba!” Wanda praised, beaming down at you and running slender fingers through your hair. “Come on, let mama give you lots of snuggles tonight.”

You felt your eyes grow a bit heavier, the feeling of soft hands supporting your weight and the sound of Wanda’s gentle footsteps with the creaking wooden stairs lulling you.

“It’s okay to sleep pumpkin, mama will be here when you’re up.” You heard Wanda mumble into your ear, the comforting warmth of her breaths fanning onto your cheek.

So, you allowed yourself to slip into a comforting sleep, free from the day’s stress, held in the love Wanda always gave so freely.

[markkiatocafe]

for the writing event could u please do yushi with scientist 🥹

scientist

a short story with yushi of nct wish

⚛︎ warnings: slight teasing, silly oblivious yushi, other than that pure fluff!!!!!

⚛︎ synop: you thought that by now, your pining would be obvious to your best friend. but apparently, he needs to be a professional to pick up on your signs 🤔

⚛︎ pairing: gn!reader x bestfriend!yushi

⚛︎ w.c: 513

⚛︎ a/n: i rlly hope this is ok…. it maybe ooc so im so so sorry if it is!!!! pls be kind if you have feedback or criticism >< i hope you all enjoy tho :3 i also got a teeny bit carried away with this one…. woopsies…. sometimes i need to stop letting the words carry me instead of my own brain

you were having a movie night with yushi. rewatching a series that brought a lot of comfort and nostalgia to the both of you, harry potter, was always a good way to just unwind after a long stressful week. you had been friends for a while now, at least a few years, so hangouts like this weren’t uncommon. giggles, childishly made pillow forts, popcorn, and fun. well, over all these years, it seems like there has been an advancement in how you felt about yushi.

maybe it was the way he relentlessly teased you, maybe it was the way his eyes sparkled when he talked about something he loved. whatever it was, something had made you fall for yushi. and especially over this last year, you’ve been trying your hardest to give him signs, yet, apparently, the lingering touches and suspiciously-sweet compliments didn’t convince him.

“you know, yushi,” you spoke up, your voice muffled by the popcorn in your mouth, tone soft but holding a hint mischief, the sound of the movie still playing in the background. “you act like you’re all high-and-mighty, but you’re pretty oblivious to simple things.” you stated, your voice casual but teasing.

he raised an eyebrow, looking over at you and taking a piece of popcorn out of the bowl in between you two, eating it and swallowing before replying. “what do you mean?”

you let out a soft giggle, tilting your head and humming. “well, for example, yesterday. remember when i told you i got you your favorite perfume because i remembered you liked it?” 

“yeah…?” he replied.

“do you remember the time i got you an exo album the day after you told me you liked them...?” you asked, drawing out your voice more in hopes of getting the idea into his head.

he nodded, smiling softly as his eyebrows knot together, confused still but intrigued. “yeah, that was really sweet of you. why does that make me oblivious though?“

you giggled, rolling your eyes and looking back to the tv. “i think it would be pretty obvious by now that i like you, no? i mean… yeah, friends can do that, but i even called you cute before, and you didn’t even think twice about that???”

his eyes widened at your sudden confession. “woah, woah, woah… that was, like, a passing comment. i didn’t think you meant it in… that way, you can’t blame me for that.”

you shrugged, looking back over at him, the look in your eyes growing more tender by the second. “fair. i’m guessing that means you don’t like me back though, with how you didn’t even mention that?” you inquired, not mad or bitter, but you couldn’t deny there was a little sting in your heart.

“hey,” he furrowed his eyebrows, “i never said that! don’t go putting words in my mouth… i actually like you, too.” he said, his voice quieting down a bit.

the sting fluttered into a warmth, a warmer smile falling on your lips. “well, i guess that’s one thing we both agree on then, huh?” 

[madhels-enby-boyfriend]

Play stupid games

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

Joanne x reader (company, f!Bobbie)

Warnings: 18+ minors DNI!!!, smutty thoughts but no actual smut, that’s it I think??

Tags: longing, established friendship between reader, Joanne and the others, smidge of angst if you squint, flirting, reader being down bad

Summary: Joanne and you have always been flirty with one another but what happens when it no longer is just a silly game for you??

Notes: English isn’t my first language so I apologise for any mistakes. I have never written ‘x reader’ fics before so please don’t judge this too harshly. This is going to be a multichapter fic but life is busy so I can’t promise regular updates. I suck at summaries…so I hope all of this makes sense 😅

Words: 3.3k

Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5

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

Chapter 1: Bobbie’s Birthday

Joanne being flirty with you was nothing new, ever since you had been introduced to Bobbie’s other friends Joanne had found a way to turn any comment into something filthy. And you, never being one to back down, always managed to shoot a flirty remark back. This back and forth had become your established dynamic, the remarks getting more outrageous as time went on. It was just playful banter really, the teasing touches being part of the game you two had started to play. The aim was to try and get the other person to blush first, most of the time you ended up losing, but that only made those few times where you did manage to fluster Joanne even better.

Your innocent little game was a great way to pass the time when the others were too engrossed in talking about their recent marriage troubles or about how the kids were doing. Joanne, having recently gone through her third divorce, had claimed she was done trying to find a husband that would stick around and wasn’t really interested in talking about marriage or kids with the others and you�� well… you weren’t exactly lucky in love either, so you preferred to keep your escapades to yourself. And so you two had found the perfect person to get through these evenings with in one another.

There was only one.. small..tiny.. little.. insignificant… problem. Somewhere along the way your brain had forgotten that Joanne’s flirting was just that, a little game and that she wasn’t actually interested… and now you had developed feelings for her. You really were unlucky when it came to relationships and romance.

You couldn’t pinpoint precisely when this had stopped just being a way to pass the time for you, but you could remember exactly when you had realised that you caught feelings for the brunette.

Joanne and you had started hanging out together, outside of a group setting, for over a year now. It had started when she had invited you back to her place after a particularly intense hang out with the others, claiming that you and her both needed to unwind after the tumultuous conversations. Later, after getting to know her better, you’d come to find out that the real reason she had invited you, was that she really disliked coming home to an empty apartment after spending such a long time surrounded by others.

You had to admit that you preferred hanging out one-on-one with her over spending time with everyone in your friend group all together. Not because you disliked the others but because Joanne was different when it was just the two of you. Of course she still teased and jokingly flirted with you but the teasing lost its sharper edges and the flirting was softer and less dirty.

She seemed more at ease this way and slowly yet surely she had shown you bits and pieces of herself. She wasn’t vulnerable often but every now and then you could see through the little cracks that had appeared in her walls when it was just the two of you.

This had been one of those moments. You were lounging around her giant apartment, soft music was playing in the background and Joanne was rambling on about one of her latest annoyances. And every once in a while you could see them, right through the cracks, the real emotions behind what seemed to be superficial complaints. When you looked into her eyes you could see parts of the real Joanne and you wished time would stand still, just for a little while, so you could bask in the moment of being privileged enough to be able to share these little moments with her.

You were nodding along, agreeing to whatever seemingly unimportant thing she was complaining about while expertly reading between the lines, figuring out what this was really about. Some people, like her ex-husbands, might complain that the brunette needed to come with a manual but not you, you found that once you looked past the armour she wore to protect herself, she was rather easy to understand. You just needed to know what to look and listen for, all you had to do was look past the annoyed words she spewed and look for the real message she was trying to convey.

A small smile appeared on your lips as you realised just how well you knew her. You were aware that you only got to know her this well because she allowed you to see this side of her and that knowledge left you with a warm and fuzzy feeling inside your chest. You secretly longed to be the only one she showed this side to, to be special to her. The thought of someone else knowing her this well, getting to see her like this, left a vile aftertaste in your mouth… wait- was that a normal way to feel about a friend? Surely you should want her to have more friends she could be more open with.

But you wanted to be special to her…different from her other friends. Suddenly you became very aware of her hand on your thigh, it had been there a while, still left from earlier when she had tried to fluster you. Usually such a simple touch wouldn’t do the trick, she had to pull out the big guns to win your little game… but then why did you suddenly feel a familiar heat creep up your cheeks.

You tried to shake yourself out of it, focusing on what she was trying to tell you and those beautiful brown eyes.. god you could get lost in those, stare at them for hours and never grow tired of looking at them. A familiar feeling wove its way into your chest, the warmth that had settled there earlier spreading even further. And then you glanced at her lips, to better listen you told yourself at first. But then, out of nowhere, you had to fight the urge to reach out, cup her cheek and pull her into a kiss.

And all of a sudden, like a bucket of ice cold water being thrown over you, it hit you… it was plain as day… you had feelings for the woman in front of you. How long had you been feeling this way? You couldn’t remember anything really changing in how you felt towards her. Except lately she seemed to win the game more often and you seemed to fluster rather easily, and the compliments you threw at her held more sincerity and warmth and were less about trying to get her to falter and more about telling her how beautiful you thought she was… you couldn’t remember when it had started but her touch was driving you insane, even more than it did before, and now that you thought about it you found yourself often daydreaming about the brunette.

You had internally cursed yourself and had pushed those feelings down, they would be dealt with when the reason for your internal turmoil wasn’t sitting right in front of you. So you continued to listen to Joanne and decided you’d deal with this mess later.

“Are you still with me, doll? Or have you gotten lost in that pretty little head of yours again?” Joanne’s teasing voice cut through your thoughts.

How long had you been spiraling? You mentally cursed yourself, ever since finding out you had feelings for the woman, you couldn’t stop yourself from overthinking every moment and ruminating on the moment you had found out.

You shot her an apologetic smile, your cheeks threatening to flush at the use of the pet name and the slight teasing. You hoped she wouldn’t notice, it was Bobbie’s birthday party after all and a lot of stuff was happening around you two.. the perfect excuse, you realised as you quietly spoke, just loud enough for her to hear.

“Sorry, there’s just a lot going on… it’s a bit overwhelming.”

You hoped she wouldn’t see through you. It wasn’t entirely a lie, everything going on around you might have overwhelmed you in other circumstances… if you hadn’t been too busy thinking about her.

Joanne seemed to buy it… for now… and her normal teasing tone was exchanged for a more serious, caring one as she asked you the following.

“Do you want to go somewhere a little more quiet?” Usually she would have added something to make the sentence as suggestive as possible but when you looked into her eyes you could see the slightest sliver of worry in them.

You couldn’t help the warmth that spread through you at the thought that she cared this much about you and your comfort, it was soon followed by a tinge of guilt for making her worry about you.

The rational part of you knew that you shouldn’t go somewhere more quiet, alone with Joanne, it would only make things worse. Her entire focus would be on you and you wouldn’t be able to distract yourself or use the ongoing party as an excuse. And yet part of you wanted to spend some more time alone with Joanne.. you couldn’t help it. Having the other woman’s attention solely focused on you was something intoxicating and you’d become addicted to it.

“No, I’m okay. I wouldn’t want to drag you away from a good party.” You sent her a reassuring smile as you both silently cursed and thanked the rational part of your brain for taking over.

Joanne chuckled dryly before teasingly replying. “Darling, if you think this is a good party then I need to take you out more.”

Before you even properly realised what she was doing, the brunette grabbed your hand and dragged you into Bobbie’s bedroom before closing the door. You knew she was only doing it because this was the only quiet spot in the apartment at the moment, but the second you registered where you were, your mind flooded with images.

You pushing Joanne against the door and kissing her till she was a moaning, whimpering mess. Joanne pushing you down on the bed as her hands quickly got rid of your clothes, those captivating brown eyes filling with hunger and desire. Your hand finding its way into her pants and-

“There, isn’t this much better?” Joanne’s voice cut through your racing thoughts and brought you back down to Earth, the images fading to the back of your mind.

The lack of any crude comments about you both being in Bobbie’s bedroom confirmed that she had been truly worried about you and it enhanced both the guilt and spreading warmth that you had felt earlier.

You hummed in confirmation then thanked her softly, sending her an appreciative smile while mentally cursing yourself for not being able to control your thoughts. You knew you had been acting strange around her lately, zoning out more often and getting way too flustered, too quickly. Joanne was a perceptive woman, she was bound to catch on at some point and you did not want to risk losing her entirely just because you couldn’t keep your feelings at bay.

“You know this wasn’t the reason I imagined you dragging me into a bedroom for the first time.” You teased, hoping to settle back into your established dynamic, fearing that any amount of silence stretching between you would result in you getting lost in your thoughts once again.

But then you began overthinking everything you were saying. Was this too much? Would this give you away? Could she see right through your façade and catch the truth behind your words? You internally groaned and hoped you’d get over this crush soon so you’d finally be able to act normal around her again, without overthinking every single thing.

The sudden change in mood seemed to catch Joanne off guard a little but it seemed to have convinced her that moving to a quieter place was all you needed and that you were now feeling better. Despite appearing a little surprised by your sudden teasing, she managed to quickly shoot back a rebuttal.

“Oh darling, the night is still young, you never know what might happen.” She sent a wink your way before sitting down on the bed and quickly adding. “Although I will have to take you back to mine because my bed is far more comfortable.” She added with a smirk.

“I don’t think I could wait to go all the way back to yours first, we might just have to make do with what we’ve been given.”

You said dramatically and jokingly as you leaned against the wall, making sure to keep your tone light and teasing as you tried your best to not imagine what Joanne’s bed would feel like… or what it would be like to have her moan your name in it.

Joanne gasped loudly and placed her hand on her chest, acting offended. “You think I won't last more than one round? We don’t have to finish where we started, you know.” Her eyes raked over your body with that playful glint so clearly present in them.

You willed yourself to not start blushing and to come up with a witty and even bolder remark but failed on both accounts so instead just playfully rolled your eyes and held your hands up in defeat.

Her smirk only grew when a pink hue coloured your cheeks. “You’re becoming too easy.. I’m going to start suspecting you of letting me win on purpose.” Joanne teased.

“Or maybe you just keep getting more vulgar.” You raised your eyebrow, shooting her an exaggerated questioning look.

“You love it.”

She shot back with a knowing smile and you felt the familiar ache of longing in your chest. If only she knew just how much you loved it… how your brain had forgotten this was all just some silly game you two had started to pass the time.

“I do.”

You chuckled softly, a full smile slowly returning to your lips, no matter how tumultuous the feelings inside you were, you couldn’t help but enjoy this little moment. The banter, Joanne caring about you and knowing you better than you had previously thought, and her smile that never failed to make your heart skip a beat, overshadowed the fear and worry that was ever present in the back of your mind.

“It’s good to see you feeling better.” The teasing and joking tone from earlier had completely disappeared and made way for a rare serious and genuine intonation and expression.

You were certain that your blush only deepened at the blatant display of care but, luckily for you, Joanne had decided not to comment on it.

“Spending time with you like this always makes me feel better.” You answered honestly, matching her serious and genuine tone.

Before Joanne could answer and before you could overthink the little confession and start spiralling once again, Bobbie burst into the room, clearly drunk. She sent a knowing smirk your way and you immediately regretted ever telling your best friend about your crush on Joanne. For a moment you feared she might say something that would give you away but instead she turned to the other woman, her face displayed a mock disgust, her voice was light and playful while her speech was slurred.

“Come on you guys, no getting it on in my bedroom! You’re missed at the party.”

Bobbie held the door open and waved her arm around, motioning for you both to get out of her bedroom.

Joanne shot you a worried look, that told you she was ready to tell the birthday girl to fuck off if you needed a couple more moments here alone with her. You smiled at her reassuringly, telling her without words that you were okay and that you didn’t mind returning back to the main event.

The brunette got up from Bobbie’s bed and walked up to you, gently squeezing your hand before walking past you and out of the room. You were about to follow her when Bobbie placed a hand on your shoulder and stopped you, whispering in your ear.

“You better tell me allll the details later.”

You groaned and whispered back. “Nothing happened, there is nothing to tell.”

Bobbie gave you a once over, as if to check if you were lying or not, when she was satisfied that you hadn’t lied to her, she disapprovingly shook her head, poking your shoulder after every word.

“Take. Action. You. Need. To. Get. Laid."

Her voice was louder than before and the blush that had finally started to disappear threatened to make its way back to your cheeks so you decided to simply roll your eyes and walk away, ending the conversation there.

There was no reasoning with a drunk Bobbie anyway and trying to tell her that it wasn’t like that, that you didn’t just want to screw Joanne but that it was deeper than that, was a futile task. And trying to convince her that you were almost certain that Joanne did not feel the same way and that you were quite sure you weren’t her type was already impossible when she was sober, so was completely hopeless now.

As you walked out of the room and made your way to the hall, so you could rejoin the others, you realised that Joanne had been waiting for you in the hall, meaning she most definitely heard the last part of your conversation with Bobbie. She looked at you, raising a brow, silently questioning you what that was all about.

You just shook your head and waved your hand, quietly telling her it was nothing for her to worry about, hoping that she wouldn’t question you about it. And it seemed like you were in luck because after studying your face for a bit, she simply walked back into the living room and joined the party again.

You quickly followed suit, silently thanking whatever was up there for not putting you through the pain of trying to come up with a convincing lie or a truth vague enough to tell Joanne. That woman knew you far too well and she did not hold back when it came to telling you that she knew you were bullshitting her.

The rest of the evening went by in a blur, you spent time talking to your friends, celebrating Bobbie, and complaining about life. You and Joanne didn’t manage to get any alone time again, you’d sometimes end up talking to the same people together or sometimes you’d shoot each other looks across the room but someone always seemed to be needing one of you just when you were about to head to the other.

The last time you saw her was when you were saying your goodbyes. She was talking to Bobbie about something, you had tried waiting till they finished their conversation but by the looks of it that wouldn’t be any time soon. Joanne was wildly flailing her arms around, gesticulating and punctuating her words with the movements of her hands. Bobbie was rolling her eyes even more than usual and was trying to act all laid back and nonchalant while sipping her drink every 5 seconds. These were clear signs that they were having a heated discussion and with those two, those discussions could last till the early morning hours..

So you had quickly and apologetically interrupted, told them both goodbye before kissing each of them on the cheek and abruptly leaving Bobbie’s apartment.

And now you found yourself laying in bed, staring at the ceiling, overthinking every single interaction you had had with a certain older woman. Your mind replaying every moment, trying to find some indication that you had fucked up and that Joanne was now aware of your feelings towards her. You groaned and tried any and everything to get that woman off your mind, to no avail.

Sleep did not come easy that night and when it did finally envelop you in its sweet embrace, you still couldn’t escape the woman that had been plaguing your mind. Your dreams were filled with her red lips, rich French perfume and sweet words, that had burrowed their way into your brain. There was no denying it, this woman had wormed her way into your heart and it didn’t seem like she would be leaving any time soon.

[cloudyluun]

Rose & Torn | Patreon Blurb

Wondered what I post on Patreon? Curious? Nosy? Need a little push before you subscribe? Okay babe, I got you. This one time… you get the full blurb. For free. Like the spoiled princess you are 💅

Rose & Thorn Summary: You’re just trying to write your silly little stories in peace when Harry Styles—yes, that Harry Styles, with the long hair, soft sweater, and rings for days—walks into your favorite café and steals the seat across from you.

What follows?

Flirty banter

Warm chai (that he hates, rude)

Painfully soft glances

And him saying, “I was gonna write lyrics, but now I kinda just wanna write about you.”

Yes, it’s fluffy. Yes, you might blush. Yes, I wrote it at 1AM while thinking, What if Harry fell in love with me while I was just trying to mind my business???

And you can read the entire thing right now 🫶 Just this once, it’s not behind a paywall.

But next week? We’re back to secret club energy 💌

🔗 [Click here] or read below!

The bell over the café door jingled, but you didn’t look up.

Your fingers hovered over your keyboard, pausing as you squinted at the blinking cursor on your screen. You were halfway through a sentence, one you’d rewritten three times already, and it still didn’t sound right. You sighed softly, thumbed the edge of your coffee cup, and took another sip of your now-lukewarm latte. Background hums of milk steamers and indie music blended with the occasional murmur of conversation.

This place—Rose & Thorn—had become your usual over the last few months. It wasn’t big, but it had high ceilings, vintage tile floors, plants dangling from copper rods, and deep wooden booths along the back wall. Enough character to feel lived-in, but quiet enough to focus. You loved it here. Not for any grand reason. Just... the peace of it.

You didn’t notice him at first.

Not until the barista stuttered a bit while asking for a name to write on the cup.

Then you glanced up. Casual, curious.

And saw him.

Tall. Slim. Hair long, dark golden brown, pulled half-up but some pieces falling around his face. A soft, oversized green sweater. Black trousers. Rings. A slow smile that looked both unsure and entirely too charming as he gave his name—Harry.

Harry.

Your brain didn’t immediately click. Not until he turned, waiting for his drink, and you caught the sharp line of his jaw. The eyes. The way he looked around the room like he wasn’t trying to be noticed but always would be.

Harry Styles.

You blinked.

You knew it was him. Of course you did. You weren’t living under a rock. But your mind scrambled to catch up with the realness of him. He looked... softer than you expected. A little sleepy, like maybe he hadn’t meant to stay out this late or wake up this early. And he was definitely looking for a place to sit.

There were two open booths. One next to the window, and one—yours.

He glanced toward the front, then toward you.

And started walking over.

You looked back at your laptop fast, pretending to type.

“Sorry,” a voice said, low and warm and just slightly hesitant. “This seat taken?”

You looked up. And there he was, closer now. Tall enough that the light from the window hit his cheekbone just right. Kind enough eyes that it made you forget how unfairly good-looking he was.

“Oh—no,” you said, heart skipping weirdly in your chest. “Go ahead.”

“Thanks.”

He sat, adjusting the chair with a quiet scrape. You tried to act normal. Just some girl in a café. Writing. Not freaking out. Not staring.

He took out a small notebook, leather-bound and worn at the edges, and a pen. No phone. No entourage. Just him, like this was his usual spot too.

A minute passed. Then five.

You tried to focus on your sentence again, but your thoughts were a mess. You could feel him. Not in a weird way, just... there. He had that kind of presence. Big but easy. Confident but not loud. And he was humming under his breath.

You snuck a glance.

He was scribbling something in his notebook. Brow furrowed a little. Lips parted. His tea sat untouched.

Your stomach did a small flip.

And then he looked up at you.

Caught.

You froze.

He smiled, slow and crooked, like he knew.

“Whatcha working on?” he asked, voice still soft. Like he didn’t want to break the quiet of the place too much.

You hesitated. “Just writing.”

“Mm,” he nodded. “Fiction?”

“Sort of.”

He tilted his head. “Sort of?”

“I write articles,” you explained. “But sometimes I write other things. Like... bits of stories. Stuff that’ll never see the light of day.”

Harry smiled wider. “I like that. Secret stories.”

You laughed under your breath. “Not on purpose. Just... never finished anything I felt was good enough.”

He leaned forward a little, interest plain in his eyes. “Can I ask what this one’s about?”

Your fingers hovered over the keyboard again. “A girl. She works in a little café. She’s just... trying to keep her life from falling apart.”

Harry looked around. “She work here?”

You shook your head. “Different place. Messier. Bad coffee.”

“Sounds real,” he said, nodding seriously.

You grinned.

He stuck out a hand. “I’m Harry.”

“I know.”

He laughed, and it was a real one—quiet but warm, like it came from his chest. You liked that laugh.

You gave your name.

He repeated it softly. Then again. Like he was trying it out.

“I like that,” he said. “Suits you.”

You looked away, heat crawling up your neck.

This didn’t feel like some celebrity moment. It didn’t feel like you were talking to him, the Harry you’d seen in music videos or awards shows or late-night interviews. It just felt like... a moment. A strangely quiet, perfectly normal moment with a man who was making you smile too easily.

He nodded at your screen. “Can I read it?”

Your heart leapt. “God, no. It’s—just fragments.”

He leaned back, hands up. “Alright. Maybe next time.”

Next time?

You raised an eyebrow. “You planning on stealing my booth?”

He shrugged. “I think I just did.”

You bit your lip to keep from smiling too much. “Okay, but I get the plug socket. It’s war if you touch my charger.”

“I’d never,” he said solemnly.

He took a sip of his tea, finally. Grimaced.

“Too hot?”

“No, just… chai.”

You laughed.

“You don’t like chai?”

“It tastes like someone dropped a candle in milk.”

You choked on your latte. “That’s oddly specific.”

He wiped his mouth with a napkin, still grinning. “It’s accurate, though.”

You shook your head. “Blasphemy.”

For the next twenty minutes, neither of you wrote. Or pretended to. The conversation was easy, weirdly so. You talked about little things—books, music, your mutual distaste for small talk. He asked you if you believed in ghosts. You asked him if he always talked to strangers in cafés.

“Not always,” he said. “Just the pretty ones.”

You stared at him.

He held your gaze, no smirk this time. Just honesty. That kind that didn’t feel rehearsed or smooth.

“I mean it,” he said. “You walked in and I... I couldn’t stop looking.”

“I was already here,” you said, trying to make your voice steady.

He blinked. “Wasn’t I here first?”

You laughed, a little breathless. “No.”

“Shit.”

“What?”

“Means I really didn’t see anything else. Just you.”

Silence stretched. Not awkward. Just... tight. Charged.

You looked down at your cup.

He tapped a ringed finger on the table. “Can I be honest?”

You glanced back up.

“I was trying to think of something to write when I came in,” he said. “Lyrics or whatever. Been stuck for a while. But now I’m thinking I just want to write about this.”

You blinked. “This?”

He nodded once. “You. Today. The way you looked when I sat down—like you were about to vanish if I stared too hard.”

You swallowed. “That’s... intense.”

“I know,” he said. “Sorry.”

“Don’t be.”

He smiled, softer this time.

You looked at your screen. Then back at him. “Can I be honest too?”

“Please.”

“This is the weirdest day of my life.”

He laughed. “Fair.”

You hesitated, then added, “But also kinda the best?”

Harry tilted his head, curls shifting. “Yeah?”

You nodded. “Yeah.”

He looked down, then back up again, eyes a little shy now. “Would it be okay if I asked for your number?”

Your heart thudded. You didn’t answer right away, but only because your brain had short-circuited.

He waited.

You reached for his phone. Typed it in.

Handed it over.

He took it gently. Smiled as he saved it.

Then he looked at you again, really looked.

“I’ll text you,” he said. “Soon. Like... tonight.”

You smiled. “Looking forward to it.”

He paused like he wanted to say something else. Then stood, tea in one hand, notebook in the other.

“I should go. Leave you to your writing.”

You nodded, though a part of you wanted to ask him to stay.

As he turned, he paused at the doorway. Looked back. Gave you a smile that made your stomach twist in the best way.

And then he was gone.

You stared at the empty chair for a moment, stunned.

Then turned back to your laptop.

And started writing again.

But this time, the words came easy.

Because now, your story had a beginning.

If you liked this and wanna see more blurbs like it every week (plus some ✨spicy✨ ones), you can subscribe here 💌

[sylviathejester]

TIRED.

maybe it’s time to say goodbye, ‘cause i’m getting pretty fuckin’ tired.

PLATONIC!JOHN PRICE x TEENAGER!GN!Y/N

warnings: mentions of death, foster care (this is my first time writing about foster care, excuse me if there’s any imperfections), attempted suicide, slight swearing

author note: this is separate from the poll. please tell me if the spacing is a turn off, it’s for aesthetic purposes in this oneshot, slowing your reading like Y/N’s world momentarily stills at the thoughts.

word count: 859.

Death. You’ve been thinking about it for days on end, what does it feel like? Your foster father, Jonathan (or as everyone calls him, John), says it’s Cold. Chilling. Scary. But what if it isn’t? Some people die with a smile on their face, so perhaps it could be the same for you?

Foster family after foster family. Abusive, neglectful piece of shits who only foster for the money. You’re afraid John might be the same.

The poor man, however, actively tries to convince you he isn’t like them. He does movie nights every Saturday, he actually listens when you talk, every word you say doesn’t go unnoticed. And his efforts don’t go unnoticed by you, not at all. He’s gentle. He’s a gentle man.

But you’ve had enough.

You’re scared shitless, some families acted like they were “mental health advocates” until you showed signs of burnout, depression, and even a tinge of anger issues, that’s when they threw you away.

And you’re just at your limit with John. The mask is.. slowly.. cracking.

John’s been a sweet guy, and he does everything in his power to make you feel okay, safe, happy. But you don’t budge. But you don’t show that you’re not budging, you show him a happy person, someone you’re not. And you’re getting tired.

”Mama was a bit naïve, and her daddy was a blinded thief. He went and stole away what was left of the remains of a family. “ Another Empty Bottle by Katy McAllister plays, you forgot the last time you heard this song, but it was one of your favorites when you were younger, more innocent, unaware of the shit going on between biological Mom and Dad. Unaware of the abuse. Perhaps your soul always felt like something was wrong, and your brain caught up later.

You sit on the couch, the TV on. You briefly look at the movement, the show must be some silly romcom, how cute.

Your phone’s music and the TV served as background noise, initially done to shut away the thoughts, but they’re.. lingering..

John was out of the house, buying groceries. He tried to persuade you to tag along; “You haven’t been out the house for a couple of weeks now, Y/N. you better go out!” He said, in that sickly sweet and kind voice of his. But you insisted on staying. Being tired from staying up was your excuse, and he let you off.

You paused the music and turned off the TV, and laid down on the couch, staring at the ceiling. It wouldn’t hurt to.. at least try. If he comes back before you actually do it, you can act like you never even tried, it’d be fine.

And if you succeeded?

But wouldn’t he be upset? Sad? He’d feel like he failed you. He never did, he never will.

He’d understand, surely he will.

Suddenly, you find yourself in the kitchen, in front of the knives John kept hanging on a shelf. For some reason he leaves them out in the open.

You grab the sharpest one, or rather, the newest knife. You look at it, and your reflection stares right back, as if to plead with you to not do it, think about it.

You ignore its pleas.

You slowly place the knife right under your wrist. Your breathing’s heavy, your heartbeat’s accelerated.

Should I do it? Should I do it?

Should I-

Warmth, but not from your wrist.

Your shoulder? Is it the grim reaper paying a visit?

You look over slowly, and your stomach drops. It’s John.

You look behind him, the grocery bags are on the floor, the different things he bought scattered across the floor.

“Hey.” He speaks a little louder, which causes you to look at him. He puts two fingers under your chin, keeping it in place.

He slowly takes the knife from your hand, sliding it across the counter; away from your hands.

“Are you okay?” Fuck, fuck, fuck.

Warmth, but not from your wrist.

Your eyes? You must be going blind.

Warmth, but not from your wrist.

Throughout your body, are you in Heaven?

No, you’re in John’s arms. Maybe that’s your own, twisted little version of Heaven. Isn’t Heaven the place where you feel eternal peace? John gives you peace, albeit not as eternal as Heaven, but he’s your Heaven on Earth.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry-“ You sob into his chest. He merely shushes you, running his hand up and down your back.

It’s 11PM. You and John are on the couch, you’re holding onto him like a koala hugging a tree. It’s been silent.

“What made you want to do it?” He breaks the silence as he whispers the dreaded question.

“John, do you- will you still want me here?” You look at him.

Silence.

“Pardon?” He raises a brow.

“Will you still want me here? You won’t- give me back, right?” You look at him: expectant, hopeful.

“Of course not, Y/N.” He hugged you a little tighter. “You’re stuck with me.”

Maybe he won’t leave like the others did.

At the realization, the world felt a little brighter.

[perachel-heretic]

the protestant reformation being real in solangelo's relationship makes me Think so much, mostly about silly little disagreements it would cause (beef over the eucharist, weirdly strong opinions about different books in the Bible, Nico going to bat for Mary) but also about how those backgrounds would impact their thought process when they're introduced to camp and the Gods.

I honestly cannot remember for the life of me if its canon that Will has a bookshelf with mythology texts or if its just a long held fanon belief but regardless I do think his approach would be text based. Will knows the Bible and how to read it (remembers his grandma's worn copy covered in pink highlighter and sticky notes, knows the passages his youth pastor pointed him to when he admitted to having a crush on a boy, can recite the exact verses that taught him shame) and his first reaction is to get his hands on Homer and Hesiod and Ovid and pull out his own pink highlighter to draw his own conclusions. Being a son of Apollo but also brought up to read and interpret religious text, that sort of poetry would just click in his brain. It would seem very natural to him for each camper to have a personal relationship with their godly parent, which would of course make it sting even more when it turns out Apollo doesn't really touch base all that often and he was actually lucky to even be claimed in the first place.

Nico, on the other hand, would probably not even consider that meeting a God was remotely possible even if they were real if he wasn't introduced to three of them within his first 24 hours as a demigod. It makes perfect sense that he would align himself with the minor Gods because what is a Catholic Saint if not functionally a minor God and therefore the logical first point of contact in Nico's mind. And on that note of course he's obsessed with mythomagic!! That shit is like Catholic prayer cards with stats!! He probably doesn't know much about the Bible itself, but coming from a very old and established religious culture, he knows all about art and ritual. Will probably grew up with some Kinkade-esque illustrations hung around a prayer hall, but Nico's memories of mass consist of zoning out and looking at mosaics and paintings, and then when he had those memorized moving on to architectural sculpture and endless gilded decorations. He can't name a Bible verse, but he can remember that St Lawrence is associated with the grill and a winged lion means he's looking at St Mark. When he sees the blue Will's eyes for the first time he thinks not of the sky, but of the blue of Mary's cloak, the blue of purity, virtue, and devotion. He takes to Greek art and architecture before he processes the written mythology, and after appreciating the number of male nudes he's allowed to look at, it also occurs to him that much of it is actually very, very familiar. He thinks the first statue of Apollo he sees is Christ at first before he notices the lyre. Will might be weirded out at first by the little rituals he's introduced to around camp, something buried deep in his brain yelling about demons when he incinerates his leftovers for the first time, but Nico adjusts a little easier. Incense and wine smell like his childhood, and his general creepiness might stem more from his comfort level with death and martyrdom than the underworld.

At some level I also think Nico associates divinity with sacrifice and suffering, leading him down a hero's path and contributing to a bit of self martyrdom, while Will associates it with salvation and teaching. He also feels a sort of personal responsibility for that salvation which could manifest as an evangelizing instinct but mostly urges him to heal as many people as possible.

[merrybloomwrites]

The Rake

Summary: You start having nightmares that disrupt your sleep, but luckily your boyfriend, Spencer, is there to help you through it.

Word Count: 1.8K

CW: mentions of creepy stories, nightmares

AN: This story is inspired by the Smosh Mouth episode that came out on October 21, which honestly did manage to creep me out a couple of times.

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

Nearly everyday after work you go for a thirty minute walk. It’s always nice to go outside and enjoy some fresh air after being cooped up in the Smosh office all day. 

Plus it’s the perfect time to listen to podcasts. On Mondays you get to hear the first half of the newest Smosh Mouth episode, and you finish it up on Tuesdays. 

Walks are skipped on Wednesdays, as that’s the day you and your boyfriend, Spencer, spend together. 

It’s a perfect system in your eyes, one that you don’t plan on changing any time soon.

Today’s Tuesday, and you pull out your phone to press play on the podcast you’d started the day before. This week’s theme had been creepypastas, and it’s been fun listening to Shayne read out these weird stories.

You do admit that they’ve creeped you out a little bit, especially the one about the doll who demanded teeth. Shayne is an excellent storyteller, and it’s interesting to hear the different voice he uses for these stories. That, plus the eerie background music and noises they add in, really works to give those spooky, somewhat uncomfortable vibes. 

Add on the fact that the sun sets early now and you’re ending your walk at dusk while you listen to the final story about “The Rake”. You’re truthfully a bit freaked out by it, but then the episode ends with some banter from Shayne and Amanda and you move on. 

The rest of your evening passes as it usually does and by the time you get in bed you’ve completely forgotten about the creepy stories.

But then a nightmare wakes you up, and even though you’re now awake, you’re still terrified. Because it looks like something is sitting on the edge of your bed. You’re frozen in fear for what feels like minutes before you’re finally able to turn on your bedside lamp.

Once you’re no longer in complete darkness you can see that nothing is there. You take deep breaths and tell yourself that it’s just a bad dream. There is no weird creature in your room to torment you. You’re just stressed and your brain conjured this image to mess with you.

That’s the rational explanation. But it’s hard to be rational at 4:30 in the morning. 

For the next hour you try to fall back asleep. But it’s no use. You toss and turn, open apps on your phone, try to read a little bit, but nothing is chasing away the dream. At 6am you give up and get out of bed. You decide to take a morning walk today since you won’t be going on one this evening, and maybe getting outside will be a good change of scenery to reset your mind. 

It works, and by the time you arrive at Smosh you’ve forgotten about the dream. You are, however, completely exhausted from waking up so early. 

Spencer notices this immediately, as he gives you his normal good morning kiss. 

“You seem sleepy,” he says as his hand goes to your waist, his thumb rubbing circles on your hip. It’s one of his comforting gestures, and it’s most welcomed right now. 

“Had a weird dream that woke me up. Couldn’t fall back asleep,” you answer. 

“I’m sorry baby, you want to talk about it?”

“No, I'm good now. Just tired.”

“Okay. If you want to talk, let me know. And I’m staying at your place tonight so I’ll make sure you get a good night's sleep,” he says with a wink, causing you to laugh. 

Just like that, any lingering tension has left you, thanks to your kind and silly boyfriend.

“I’ve got a meeting I need to prepare for, but I’ll see you later,” he says, leaning in for one more quick kiss. With a parting squeeze to your waist he turns and walks away to start his work for the day. 

You do the same, and after a few hours of working at your desk, you’re struggling to keep your eyes open. Just as you're about to get up in search of caffeine, Spencer appears. 

As though he could read your mind, he hands you a mug saying, “Thought you could use a little pick me up. Made you some tea.”

“Thank you, this is exactly what I need right now,” you say. You take a sip and feel a pleasant warmth inside, not only from the tea, but from the fact that your boyfriend, who never drinks tea, has learned how to make it just perfect for you. 

As you sip your drink you reach out a hand. Spencer reaches to link his fingers with yours, and the two of you sit there for a couple minutes in comfortable silence. After this brief time spent together you both return to work. 

You don’t see Spencer for the rest of the day, since your lunch breaks don’t always line up, so it’s extra nice that you’re spending tonight together. 

Once you wrap up your last task of the day you walk over to Spencer’s desk to find him still engrossed by the document on his computer. You wait patiently, not wanting to break his concentration. When he gets to a stopping point he looks up and says, “Hey, sorry, I just need to finish this before I head out.”

“That’s fine, I’ll pick up the food on my way home,” you reply.

“Thank you, I’ll be at your place within the hour, promise.”

“Looking forward to it,” you say before leaning down for a quick kiss. 

You drive home, grabbing dinner as promised, and Spencer gets to your place not long after you do. You enjoy the food before lounging together on the sofa to watch mindless sitcoms. Spencer also keeps his word of tiring you out, the night ending with both of you very satisfied. 

Though all you want is to fall asleep, you definitely need a shower. It’s not what you want to be doing, but when Spencer decides to join you, it becomes much less of a chore. 

The two of you get ready and finally fall into bed. You’re truly exhausted, and as soon as Spencer spoons you from behind, his arms secure around your waist, you drift off to sleep.

But once again you jolt awake, pulse racing as you see what looks like a figure at the edge of the bed. Having felt you move, Spencer shifts beside you. He sits up sleepily and murmurs, “What’s wrong?” 

You try to explain but you’re still frozen by fear. Spencer becomes more alert and notices how wide your eyes are, how quickly you’re breathing. He turns on the lamp and scans the room. 

Seeing nothing to cause alarm he turns to you and again asks, “Baby, what is it? What’s wrong?”

“There was a thing, like a person or a creature or something. At the end of the bed,” you reply shakily. 

“A person in the room?” He asks to clarify. 

“That’s what it looked like but then it disappeared!”

“Okay, just, stay here a minute and I’ll check the apartment,” Spencer says, starting to get out of bed. You’re grateful for his bravery, but there’s no way you’re just going to stay in bed like a sitting duck. 

You get up as well and grab the metal softball bat leaning against the wall. Spencer watches and asks, “Have you always had that there?”

“Just since my moms last visit,” you answer. “She cleaned out the basement and thought I should have it for protection. But can we please focus on the possible intruder?”

“Right, yes, ok,” he says, getting back to the task at hand. The two of you search the apartment, but find nothing. 

You feel better knowing that your apartment is definitely empty, and with Spencer once again holding you protectively, you manage to fall back asleep, not waking until your alarm.

Both of you are needed in a meeting that morning so you quickly get ready and head to work. Once in the conference room, you sit next to Amanda, Spencer on your other side. Even though you’d slept more than the previous night, it’s clear both of you are still sleepier than usual.

“Busy night?” Amanda asks, her voice suggestive, but joking. You know what she’s implying, and though she’s kind of right, you don’t need her knowing that.

“Bad dream,” you say simply. 

“Y/N thought there was a creature on the bed,” Spencer adds. 

“Well, she was right, wasn’t she? You were there,” Shayne says from his spot next to Amanda, causing you to laugh. 

“Heyyy, rude,” is all Spencer has to say in reply. 

“Did you listen to the podcast this week?” Amanda asks.

“Yea of course, I listen every week.”

“And you had a dream about a creature in your bed?” is Amanda’s next question. You nod yes in reply.

“A creature like in the Rake?” 

“Holy shit. Yea. One hundred percent the creature from the rake,” you say, mad at yourself for not putting the pieces together.

“You got a nightmare from us telling stories on the pod?” Shayne asks. “That might be a first.”

You start laughing at how ridiculous this all is before sliding down and resting your head on the table. You’re embarrassed, not only that you had a nightmare because of a comedy podcast, but that everyone at work will absolutely know this fact by the end of the day. You’re already imagining the pranks that you’ll likely endure in the future because of this. 

And of course the pranks do come. In the following weeks, plenty of people joke around about you being scared of the Rake and sometimes pop out at you to make you jump. All of this is a totally normal and expected part of working at Smosh.

But what you don’t expect is Spencer’s reaction. Instead of laughing and messing around with the others, he’s always serious and checking in. He makes sure that it’s not upsetting you, and promises to talk to the others if it is. 

While you reassure him that it truly doesn’t bother you, it’s nice to know that he’s so fully there to back you up. You’d been on your own until you found him, always taking care of yourself. So having Spencer there to help take care of you feels so foreign, and yet, so welcomed. 

The teasing and pranks may get old eventually, but you don’t mind them. Because everytime it happens, Spencer is right there with a smile and a kiss to make sure you’re okay. 

And that makes it all worth it.

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

AN: Thanks for reading! Lmk if you have any requests!

[starryeyedstray]

sorry i disappeared without notice. i went outside to touch some grass. take this rk1k drawing over a picture of some sakura i saw last week as an apology.

been away bc my partner came home for a week so i was spending time with them before they go out to sea again (hard cut to me looking wistfully out the window). also been trying to get some irl housekeeping stuff that i've been ignoring (i swear it doesn't matter what country you live in, dealing with car registrations and taxes is always a bureaucratic nightmare). also also i may have unlocked a new hyperfixation which captivated me for like 3 days but i think i have wrangled it under control (pls don't ask about it lmao).

i have a real all-or-nothing sort of personality so it's difficult for me to casually engage with things. so if i don't have time to engage in things for a long bit of time my brain is like you are not allowed to even touch this until you can fully commit to it again. which is kinda problematic and leads me to ignoring anything related to the thing until i have "time".

so completely went cold turkey on dbh-related platforms bc my brain was like if you check it a little you have to catch up on all of it at the same time. which is like no i don't have to do that silly little brain. but alas, i could not fight my brain so i completely ignored discord and tumblr and ao3 for a bit.

but i think i'm mostly back now????? idk we'll see how things progress. i'm trying to get my life back to a more balanced lifestyle so i am less chronically online but still have time to keep up with moots and do the art and writing thing. i missed everyone so happy to be back!!

i forgot how fucking happy i get drawing rk1k. like i love drawing these two android boys just being in love. i was giggling imagining them going out on a date to see sakura together. i focused less on my sketch/draftmanship and more on the colors this time and am happy with how well they match the background. not my best drawing of them but i'm trying to be less precious with my drawings bc everything lately just gets stuck in wip hell. overall, happy with it tho!!!

for those of you who care about things like this, the background is a photo i took while visiting hadano in the kanagawa prefecture! this road specifically is part of はだの桜みち or "hadano's cherry blossom road." it was pretty driving through it and walking around town even though it was cold and cloudy. (i swear it was raining all of sakura season)

[kurokens]

In The Middle | Satosugu

anime/manga: jujutsu kaisen

character: gojo satoru & geto suguru

words: 798

pronouns: they/them

request: none

notes: probably an overused prompt but idc sue me, i needed to write one of my own. im a sucker for misunderstanding. i haven't written anything in such a long time, it's been a while im sorry, satosugu have been on my mind for a while, and i needed to write something with them because i love them so fucking much. it's gonna be a series, so hopefully i dont disappear after one part lol... later on it might be specific on some insecurities bc i need it and i thought well let's just share it with the world and other who might need it. sorry for any mistakes T-T

not proof read

song rec: SHE'S - In The Middle

genre: hurt comfort, fluff, slowburn, a little bit angsty, poly?

warnings: bad english not my first language, satosugu are in a loving relationship, misunderstanding, pinning, a lot of pinning on satosugu's end, reader is so oblivious (is that the right one?), insecure and self conscious reader

You've always told yourself you weren't the type to live with anyone, you liked your quiet and your peace. Alone in your little bubble, without a soul to disturb it. And yet, here you were awoken by your roomates lover quarrel in the room next door, for the hundredth time this week.

"Don't you love me anymore? Am I not enough for you?" a whiny voice whisper-screamed "Satoru, my love, it was a dream, it was all in your head." an exhausted voice replied

"So what?? It doesn't mean anything? Are my feelings not valid?" Gojo huffed.

"How are you so dramatic so early in the morning? Let's go back to sleep come here.", Geto carefully lifted the blanket so his boyfriend could go back exactly where he belonged, asleep and quiet in his arms.

Such occurences weren't new to you, you could even say there were your daily life, that's why you laughed hearing the bickering couple, and turned around in your bed to try and fall back asleep while their muffled voices could still be heard in the background. This was without counting on what part of their conversation your brain decided to pick up on next. "I dont know for how much longer I can do this Sugu.." Satoru sighed. "Me neither love, but there is nothing much we can do about it.They live with us." His black haired lover replied. "I know, ugh I know, but it's getting so much harder everyday. Seeing them is becoming unbearable. I can't stand it anymore, we need to do something." He went on. "Shh, I know, I feel the same. But we can't just drop this on them all of the sudden and expect it to go well." The oldest reasoned.

Your heart shattered on the other side of the wall, now sitting against the headboard, an unstoppable flow of tears falling down your face. You were a bother? You thought the three of you were friends, shit, scratch that, best friends. And yet, yet, this was how they felt about you. Fuck fuck FUCK You needed to calm down, it's okay, you're okay. It must have been a nightmare, yeah that's right, a nightmare. Your brain loved playing tricks on you, waking you up in the middle of the night with the most vivid and realistic nightmares ever, enough to send you into full blown meltdown. Nothing to worry about, it was just a nightmare, nothing else. That's what you told yourself and yet when you woke up you couldnt shake this weird feeling in your stomach. You contemplated staying in your bed all day and avoid your roomates but that would be silly to ignore them for something that was potentially just a dream. So you shook the silly feelings away and got out of your bed, made your way to the kitchen to make some breakfast. Your two roommates were already there, being lovey dovey in each others lap and the weird feeling made its way back into your stomach. "Hi there." You greeted tiredly, only to be met with an echo of short hms, and not even a nod to accompany the cold greeting. The lack of acknowledgment not helping with your already overthinking mind, you decided to take a quick breakfast and just leave them be. It could just be a coincidence, nothing to worry about haha, right? Or so you thought, because you were back in your room mindlessly scrolling through tik tok when you once again hear the muffled voices of your roommates. Your brain screamed at you to put your headphones on and drown out their conversation, but you couldn't get yourself to do it, and you decided to listen to them, to at least finally be able to know whether or not you dreamed what happened last night. And maybe you shouldn't have, but what else could you do now but listen to the cruel words of the ones you once considered your best friends. "Suguru, we need to do it soon. I can't even handle looking at them in the eyes anymore, let alone utter a word to them. We can't keep going like this." Satoru complained. "I know 'Toru, I know, but you need to understand it's not as easy as you think it is." You heard the black haired man answer. And it was enough for you, you needed to get out of there. You obviously were no longer welcomed here, and the sooner you left, the better it would be, for both parties. So inbetween tears you picked up a bag and threw some spare clothes and anything that you could think of in your frenzy state before you ran out of there, determined to never come back, at least not for a while.

here u gooo!! sorry i've been away for a while, i've been finding it hard to write and staying focused, but i missed it so much, especially for these two. i'll try not to take too long to write AT LEAST a second part, but would love to do more than this bc i want it to be extremely slown burn and a little bit angsty krkrkr

part 2 is here!!

[plutowon]

CHACONNE suspicions

 after heeseung texts the groupchat, he tosses his phone on the desk. setting up his monitor is heeseung’s least favorite part of streaming, perhaps because he’s always been impatient. first, he has to set up his mic and his webcam. he has to test the audio, make sure the quality is good. he has to set up the lighting, the settings on his camera and make sure the picture is up to par. then he sets up his screen recorder. then he needs to make sure everything is synced. then he presses the stream button at 8:45, and he has to make sure it’s synced again and running smoothly. then, that’s when heeseung feels excitement. when the comments roll in and he can feel all the eyes on him through the camera. 

heeseung isn’t lonely, but it’s always nice to have connections. 

heeseung waves at the camera, smiling gently while he says “hi”. it’s only courteous. 

five nights at freddy’s is the game heeseung has pulled up. why not ? it’s always good to go back to old games. he introduces the game’s while he reads the comments. there’s loads of comments rolling in, but he can always recognized a few familiar users who always interact with his content, some of those people of course being his friends who love to tease him and embarrass him on live, but there’s also the dedicated fans that make sure to join most of his streams and always wanna talk to him. he feels a great bond with them and appreciates them so, even if he’s never talked to them personally or face to face.

“no i am not taking my shirt off, guys. don’t be silly”

or even if they’re very forward and silly too.

he starts up the game, mostly reading comments because the first night is too easy and simple. heeseung can do it with his eyes closed, he just needed to make it past that night to get to the really challenging and interesting part of the game. night two isn’t anything spectacular, but it isn’t the easy breeze night one is.

“damn, how the fuck did she get to my door so fast”

y/n laughs as she watches heeseung’s live. she admits, while heeseung is a bit…tactless at heeseung is a bit…tactless at times, she does appreciate his presence and humor. people tend to laugh at heeseung when he tells them he does twitch streams, but y/n admires his passion. heeseung used to be a very closed off person, so it’s always a warm feeling that passes through y/n when she thinks of how far he’s come. 

  however, as y/n is watching heeseung’s stream, she hears a loud buzzing right next to her. it’s just her phone, of course, but the interruption had y/n jumping in her chair. she huffs out a little, annoyed at how her heart’s thumping against her ribcage. she’s even more annoyed seeing the ‘unknown caller ID’ message on her screen, but she answers it anyway just in case they try calling again. 

“hello, y/n” 

ugh, it’s some weird old man wasting her time. really, she wishes she could go one day without being bothered, especially not by an old loser with no life.

“hello? who is this, i’m kinda busy right now…”

“oh, i’m well aware, dear”

she did blush a little, but then she remembered she had a man at home and this man was definitely a grade A freak.

“what…look, if that’s all, i’m gonna go”

“i wouldn’t do that if i were you, not if you care about your dear friend, heeseung.”

her blood runs cold at the mention of heeseung’s name. the person on the other line is so calm. they bring him up so nonchalantly, like he’s a child’s toy they’ll take away if the child keeps misbehaving…unfortunately, y/n figures she’s the child in this scenario.

“ah, did i scare you? good”

“why are you calling me”

“oh? no reason. I just wanted your live reaction” 

before she can ask what the live reaction was for, she notices something moving in the background of heeseung’s facecam. her eyes widen, struck by horror as her brain finally processes the situation.

she’s on call with the killer.

she screams into the phone, heeseung should be able to hear her, right? but she realizes as she’s screaming that she can't hear herself in the background. she tries texting him, calling him, facetiming, but heeseung always has his phone on silent during livestreams. that must be why the killer targeted him now of all times. the comments have obviously caught on as the figure is now fully in view, dawned in a black robe and a ghostface mask. kids should stop watching scary movies…. the comments are full of people telling heeseung to look behind him, warning him, telling him there’s someone there, but heeseung having been on the internet for most of his formative years knows what a troll is, and he’s determined to not fall victim to one.

“alright guys, stop playing in the comments. i’m not easily scared.” he laughs it off, but the killer gets closer and closer. the comments continue to fill up, urging him to turn around. it’s not until heeseung dies in the game and the screen turns black that he decides to entertain the comments.

“alright alright, since you guys won’t let it go i’ll turn around, just for you” he smiles into the camera before turning around slowly as if to mock his viewers, but when he turns around fully, he comes face to face with the masked man. 

“oh shit-”

the killer makes a move towards heeseung, but heeseung is quick. he has surprisingly impressive reflexes. he’s up on his feet fast and he kicks the chair into the man. the killer falls back at the sudden impact, he probably didn’t expect heeseung to be that quick. heeseung knows it’s only a matter of time before the killer comes back to his senses, so he scans his room quickly before his eyes land on his tripod, settled in the corner of the room to his left. he grabs it quickly, and soon, the man is charging towards him. heeseung swings the tripod with all his might and when it collides with the man's head, it makes a loud thwack sound. he stumbles over his feet, trying to find his balance, but he falls to the floor, unresponsive. 

heeseung stands there with the tripod clutched in his hand. he waits for the killer to get up. he refuses to make the mistake of getting comfortable and cocky. the sirens outside make heeseung’s rigid stance loosen up though, as he heads towards the window. his body still faces the…body on the floor, but he pivots his head to look outside. the police cars are parked right outside in his driveway and he’s about to gloat and tell the man on his floor that they caught his ass, but when he turns his head, the man is gone. he glances up at the clock that reads 9:35pm.

—-

jisung sighs as he watches reruns of spongebob. there’s nothing else to do at this time in the evening and he feels his mind going numb as the episodes play on and on and on.

but then, jisung hears a knock at the door.

he looks at the door in confusion. he’s not expecting anyone today. all his friends are out partying tonight, and after what happened three nights ago, he’s shunned off parties…for at least the next 2 weeks before he gets bored anyway.

‘maybe it’s chenle…’

he makes his way towards the front door and yanks it open, but nobody is there.

“hello…? is this some stupid attempt at a prank?” he rolls his eyes and shuts his door. the moment the door clicks in the lock, jisung hears a crash from upstairs in his bedroom.

‘maybe this is the real prank…’ he stands completely still. as if when he moves time will move with him and whatever lurks upstairs will catch up to him. 

but he’s forced to move when his phone begins to ring at 9:38pm.

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taglist: @dootiexcupcake @bloofairyfox @hoonieluv @lilmxchis @woniewonn @solstramaii @phenomenalgirl9 @heavenhannie @w3bqrl @fakeuwus @eneiyri @hsgwrld @yourmomscuntis2tighy @naddii @sunghoonsfeethair @enhaz1 @softieluvsyou

[soobadnoonecanstopher]

Rat Bastard - Part 2

Pairing: You x Kyungsoo

Rating: M (Mature)

Word Count: 8800

Warnings: There were too many beds, Enemies to Lovers, Spiders (imaginary spiders in a fictional story, as fake as you can get)

Links: Part 1, Part 2, Part 3

Not a single soul had spoken a word to you in more than three hours.

You’d spent the first two of those three hours watching saved Netflix movies on your phone. You still didn’t have any signal and after two solid hours of mindless television, now you didn’t have any battery either.

The third hour was spent laying on your bed, the one situated as far away from him as physically possible, in various positions of extreme unrest and terrible boredom.

Your latest position was an upside down pose with your legs propped up vertically against the wall and your head hanging off of the edge of this tiny bed. It was weirdly comfortable feeling the way the blood pooled deep inside of your brain and your view of this room flipped upside down, the ceiling was the floor now. If you walked across it you’d have several speed bumps in the form of fluorescent tube lights to contend with. One couldn't just walk straight either, there were a few big ceiling fans that might slice up your ankle at a moment's notice if someone happened to flip the switches on the walls. You wondered if the fans still worked. They all looked as if they hadn’t spun in years and you found yourself finding common ground with them for it had also been years since someone had flipped your switch and sent you spinning. You probably had a few cobwebs too. Maybe even some loose wiring.

You tried closing your eyes but this room, with its lifeless cement walls, was too still and too quiet. You started to hear new sounds the longer you existed in this perpetual state of oppressive silence.

You could hear your own heart beating inside of your chest. It was a noisy racket. You could hear your own annoyingly steady breathing and when you held your breath you could hear your absence of breathing and then worse, the count down to your eventual suffocation. You could hear that timer and the small grunts of your lung muscles fighting against your own death and the noisy gasp for air when your survival instincts kicked in and jump started your breathing again — your silly brain refused to let you die. Again and again you listened. A gurgle in your stomach paired with the twinge you felt with the growl. The sound of your throat constricting and the saliva that pooled inside of your mouth was swished backward and swallowed down your throat, temporarily closing up your ears and the sound of the pressure that changed as it went down. Every sound that happened inside of you was up for grabs. Every twitch and breath could be a source of some stimulation for your brain. Eventually your ears drifted further.

You could hear wind outside and some sort of groaning sounds of what you assumed was the building you were stuck inside the belly of, shifting and shaking with the strong winds outside. Even those sounds eventually shifted to the background of your focus and at the tail ends of the third hour you swear to God you began to hear him.

A small shift on top of his bed at the far end of the room. The quietest throat clearing. A rustling of, now, dry cotton fabric as blunt nails scratched three times over an itch on his skin. A deep breath pulled into his lungs slowly and exhaled through plump parted lips. Once you’d managed to tune into the sound of the air of his lungs, you heard another breath. A steady in and a steady out. A quicker, deeper pull of air as his rhythmic pace stuttered just a bit, and the eventual evening out again of his breaths. Was he asleep? Had that lucky bastard actually been fortunate enough to drift off to sleep and spare himself some of this agonizing boredom?

For absolutely no reason you could imagine, and there really was very little reason happening inside of you right now anyway, you could feel the pace of your own breathing even out. It felt almost involuntary the way you felt compelled; with his inhale, your lungs breathed in. With his exhale, your air left your nostrils and you pursed your own lips just a little, allowing some of the expelled air to pass over your tongue and slip over your lips. Your next inhale was perfectly timed again and you didn’t even have to think about the exhale; you were in sync.

It was absolute madness that you were paying attention to this. The only thing that saved you from actual insanity was that you were aware of how insane this was. The really insane people didn't know they were insane, right? This could be what you told yourself. This could be your absolution.

How much longer could you stand? You could always…leave, right?

You weren’t technically trapped inside of this room. Your mind was drifting through the memories of walking into this place following Sara who navigated the confusing hallways easily. She knew the way. You did not. You recalled walking by a few doors and many dark corridors with many large and mature spider webs in some of the corners.

You pictured leaving this room and walking with fake confidence. Just a harmless little journey. A bit of exploration without a flashlight, through some of the sections of this bunker that didn’t receive the benefit of the generator's power.

The exploration would quickly grow spooky with the soundtrack of the howling winds and the lifelike groaning of the building around you as you prodded on down an unknown path. And when you felt the first strings of sticky spider webs brush against your skin, you would soldier through them. When you felt the bigger, stickier ones attach to your arms and legs and lightly pull against you as you tried to take them off, stubbornly transferring them from fingers to hands and thoroughly coating you so that no amount of flicking could shake them loose and when shaking turned harder you’d only gather more webs. Your cool exterior would crack as the panic set in. They would cover your arms, your torso, reaching up to your neck and your face. And by the time the spiders came out, with their pokey legs and their angry jaws sinking down into your skin, the screaming wouldn’t help any. Screaming would only give them another dark and damp orifice to crawl inside of and bite down, giving you some sort of tongue infection caused by their venom that didn’t even have a cure yet because the scientists that study spiders hadn’t had a chance to reach this part of the world to develop their anti-venom yet. Your tongue would turn black and fall off. The spider would lay eggs inside of your windpipe and burrow into all of your tubes, spreading their venom and eggs and crawly legs and biting jaws and you would die an agonizing death, alone in the darkness.

You reached a hand up and scratched at a tickling sensation you felt on your arm. You swear to god you felt the slight tingle of tiny traveling legs the more you pictured trying to leave this room on your own just because you were bored.

What would your obituary say? ‘A testament to her generation’s short attention span, she couldn't tolerate even the slightest bit of boredom. She bravely ventured out into the darkness where she was eaten alive by man eating spiders just for something to break the monotony.’

You heard a real sound. The genuine squeak of old mattress springs compressing on the far side of the room. The squeak was more than just someone shifting in the bed. This was a squeak of real movement. Kyungsoo was moving.

You heard the push off of a body from the bed, followed by shuffling footsteps moving in your direction.

You turned your head to watch him. From your vantage point he was defying gravity and walking on the walls of this upside down room. The silent man caught your eye for a second as his hand landed on the doorknob and he pulled it open.

“Where are you going?” You couldn't help yourself. You had given yourself the heebie jeebies with all the spider thoughts and even though he sucked, he was the only other human being here that you could use as a spider shield. Surely they would go for him first. He smelled good and had soft smooth skin, easier for tiny fangs to bite into. You’d already planned on pushing him through the webs first.

“Out,” he said flatly.

You tossed your legs away from the wall and sprung to life. Leaping to your feet, you reached the door before it slammed shut and you pushed yourself through the opening taking several frantic steps to catch up with him.

Your steps were very quick. You were fueled by fear as you moved and you hadn’t been paying attention enough to his steps to catch the moment he reacting to the sound of you coming up behind him.

He stopped walking forward before you had a chance to shift and you embarrassingly hurled yourself into him, bouncing your chest right off of the warm, solid wall that was the back of the man. You hadn’t braced yourself at all. Your nose bumped against the back of his head.

You bounced off of him with a surprising force. Why did he have to stop so suddenly like that?

You stumbled when you hit him and took three tiny steps back to keep your balance upright and covered your nose with your fingertips. You managed to keep the small yelping sound from the impact concealed under your hand but it felt implied with the obvious thud of both of your bodies hitting together.

Kyungsoo spun around halfway and looked into your surprised face.

“Where are you going?” His eyes bounced against your face lightly and you quickly closed your wide-open mouth and dropped the hand from your nose.

“Out,” you said with a shrug and a tiny lift of your chin.

It wasn’t as if you weren’t allowed to leave, right? You didn’t need to stay back there in that room all alone. You had been planning on venturing out all along. You couldn’t help it if you just happened to leave at the exact same time that he left, and you just happened to be traveling in the exact same direction that he was traveling in.

His eyes narrowed on you for a moment, no doubt jumping to his own conclusions.

You stood your ground, crossing your arms over your chest to really sell it and you did your best to ignore the light tickle you felt running up your leg just above your sock. Spider. Big hairy spider crawling. The second he gave up and turned back around, resuming his forward momentum, you reached down and swatted away whatever it was you’d imagined crawling on you.

Your hand came back empty which you took as a good sign. You hadn’t squished something with a belly full of a hundred eggs against your leg. You didn’t feel the scattering feet of thousands of tiny babies crawling up your leg, under your shorts, seeking refuge in your own personal orifices.

While you’d done an excellent job of matching his breathing pace back inside the room, you were doing a shitty job of walking at the exact right speed to keep up with his quick legs. He wasn’t outright running away from you but he was definitely putting some cardio in right now. This was the pace of a speed walker at least. You caught up to him though and you even managed to read his posture enough to catch yourself from running into him again when he abruptly stopped and turned fully around to face you again.

His eyes were wide and his eyebrows were raised.

“Stop following me,” he warned with a low voice. Yes, yes. The very menacing man is very threatening. You tried not to visibly roll your eyes.

You simply shook your head and shrugged your shoulders in full denial.

You had no idea what he was talking about. The man was losing his mind. You were just out for a stroll. This was a big coincidence and frankly he was acting silly with his suspicions of you.

“I’m not following you. I’m just…going out.”

“Going where?” He challenged.

“Out.” You countered, “Out. Out of the room, just out.”

He definitely seemed like he had a destination in mind as he moved. You wondered if he got some sort of a grand tour of this place that you didn't get before you arrived. He knew you were full of shit, and you knew you were full of shit, but of course you weren't going to give him the satisfaction of admitting it. You wanted to see what he was up to and where he was going because you were not about to be left back there in that silent concrete tomb all alone while he explored and adventured over here doing who knows what.

You’d gathered enough to know that he was headed toward whatever room was behind that solid big blue door at the end of this hallway.

You were going to witness it. You needed something. Anything.

He gave up again and he was moving.

You were on his tail, stepping inline right beside him where he walked so you could pry some intel from him. He obviously knew more about this place than you did.

“What’s in there?” You asked, pointing to the blue door.

“Kitchen.”

“Ooo, a kitchen.”

You reached for the handle when he reached for the handle and you pulled at the door when he pulled at the door. You pushed yourself through the narrow opening when he pushed himself through the narrow opening and you found yourself shoulder to shoulder with this man as he pushed hard against you, trying his absolute best to beat you through this doorway. You weren’t about to just let him have it. The struggle made you grunt and you could feel his body tensing beside you. The struggle turned into a silent shoving fight of hands, elbows, and fingertips; causing you both to get stuck right in the middle of the doorway. The hard wooden door frame on one side of you and a brick wall of a man’s shoulders and thick biceps on the other side of you, pushing you back, forcing himself to move through the doorway before you could manage, with sheer brute strength.

He grunted and pushed back harder and he popped out on the other side of that doorway first.

He won.

You wrinkled your nose and scowled at him, deciding then and there that if it came down to it, he was getting fed to the spiders.

Beyond the doorway the room opened up into an industrial looking kitchen space. It was lit up and to your surprise was occupied with five people. Five whole people were in this room. Their surprised heads turned to look at the doorway the moment the door opened and five people witnessed the fight to get through the doorway with varying expressions of curiosity on most of their faces. Two faces, the two people you found most familiar here, Sara and Mr. Chen had different looks in their eyes. More amusement than confusion.

“There they are! You two are right on time.” Mr. Chen smiled widely with a note of excitement in his tone that you struggled to return with your greeting. You felt too caught off guard with what seemed to be happening inside here.

In here Doh Kyungsoo was a different person. The shift was jarring. He was friendly and smiling and bowing politely, shaking the hands of the three other people in the room. Making their acquaintance. Being very pleased about it. Catching their names and using them immediately to commit them to memory.

He was grabbing a stool and pulling it up, taking a seat around the big stainless steel countertop as if he knew it would be there and he knew something was coming.

Your feet were slower to follow him in here. The more you looked around you began to notice details. There were bags of supplies on the counter. Nothing bad there. Enough food and goods to get you all through the week without being able to leave this place. Pots and pans and kitchen utensils were on the stoves and you could even smell something delicious cooking in here. Aside from the kitchen equipment, you also saw bags, small office supplies for writing. A few had power banks charging their phones. There were wired earpieces unwound on the tables and a portable radio that was on low, giving some weather related reports.

There was a big white board with scribbles on it. The moment your eyes zeroed in on it someone else cleared their throat and another person grabbed the whole thing and flipped it upside down. You were still able to make out your name written there before it was flipped. Below your name, a small list with different bullet points. Details about you. Very basic things. None of it bothered you much. What did send a wave of annoyance though you, was the other column with Kyungsoo’s name written atop and a matching bulleted list. In all other instances that would have also been fine. The real issue you had was the single red hand drawn heart that sat in between both columns.

Someone in this room, maybe even all of them, had been crafting a scheme, it seemed. A scheme that warranted a red heart. It seemed that the five of them thought they were still working on a love match, despite the hurricane outside, despite the change of setting, despite the fact that there was no way…not even if he was the last man on this entire island… not even if the rest of the world ceased to exist and it was up to the two of you to repopulate the human race or it would face extinction…there was no way. RIP to humanity.

Your eyes reached for Sara. She avoided you as you expected she would. The single sheet of hand written paper she held in her hands was her excuse.

It seemed that they had been working hard to prepare something for you both. A fact that surprised the hell out of you given the current limitations and the unusual circumstances, but something that struck you as even more shocking was the nonplussed expression on Kyungsoo’s face. He merely sat down on the stool, chatted with one of the staff members who was preparing some dish on the other side of the counter and acted like he did not find a single thing about this puzzling.

The howling wind outside grew louder for a moment and the lights flickered.

”Okay then. Let’s get started shall we? The first thing on the itinerary that I’m sure everyone has read, the first event tonight is dinner. And of course the meals you will enjoy will be a fine dining experience. Made with locally sourced ingredients and freshly made in house. Luckily Javier, our head chef and our wonderful staff here prepared for such an emergency situation and even though we may be temporarily displaced here in this shelter, we will do our best to give you the most authentic Shifting Sands experience we are able to. Whatever we are lacking in facilities, we hope to make up for with our passion and sincerity.”

Wait a minute, there was an itinerary?

You never got an itinerary. You looked down at Kyungsoo and where he sat leaning his elbow against the countertop and the man seemed much too relaxed in his posture for him to also not have an itinerary. In fact he was the one who came here at the exact time that this event had been scheduled to take place. Not only did he have an itinerary, but he also had planned on coming here for a fancy schmancy dinner without telling you about it; and even had gone out of his way to dissuade you from following him here.

Mr. Chen continued speaking, “Now in the grand fashion of the Shifting Sands Resort. In spite of the unconventional kick off of the Seventh Annual Singles Retreat, and in accordance with the fine print, A. K. A. the terms and conditions that you both agreed to and signed during registration—”

You leaned just a little bit so you could ask Kyungsoo a question without the rest of the group hearing and without interrupting the explanation of what today’s dinner menu would be. It smelled delicious and you were sure you would enjoy whatever they gave you. You’d been getting pretty hungry actually. You hadn’t had a thing since the snacks on the airplane and you’d been trying to ignore your own stomach growling for the better part of three hours since you weren’t sure what kinds of emergency provisions this place had been stocked with. Now that you could smell the food you actually began to relax a little bit. You even spied some alcohol in one of the corners. Some tasty high end food and some cocktails sounded like exactly what you needed right now.

“I didn't get an itinerary,” you whispered over his head, “did you get one?”

Kyungsoo heard you but did not look up at you. His eyes remained fixed on the man in the suit giving his talk.

“Mhm,” he mumbled.

Mr. Chen continued. You admit now you may have missed a bit, “…and your partner will complete a series of fun activities designed to test…”

”So you knew this was going on and you didn’t tell me?” You gasped with the realization of his dirty trick he’d tried to get away with, “You even tried to leave me behind back there!”

“bring you both closer…”

”It's not my job to take care of you, Princess.”

You stretched your hands out toward him but stopped just short of making any actual contact. You did, in great imaginative detail inside of your mind, bring your hands right up to him and wrap them tightly around his exposed neck, letting your fingers dig into the sensitive and squishable windpipe that supplied this man with oxygen and allowed him to say such rude things to you; shaking and squeezing hard enough to get him to make that satisfying ‘GAK GAK GAK’ sound just before the lights went out.

“…and of course, the ———— the specially prepared five-course meal our head chef, Javier, has ready for you. It smells delicious doesn't it? If you don't eat it, we certainly will.”

Mr. Chen and company were all giggling amongst themselves.

Your hands were still raised for attack when Kyungsoo looked up at you but you were quick to drop them and hide them behind your back as you pushed a sweet smile up to your face. If he had noticed your murderous thoughts he didn't mention them because he was looking up at you with his big brown eyes as if he had something else on his mind entirely. Why was he suddenly interested in what you were doing? Why were his eyes so clear and big?

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” he whispered under his breath. Whatever it was seemed to have shaken him up a bit. You suddenly wished you had been paying more attention to tonight’s menu.

The next words Mr. Chen spoke sent a chill down your spine.

“If you lose, you’ll face some stiff penalties.”

Wait a minute…

“Although you will still have a chance to win some basic ingredients with certain…limitations attached to their use. Break those rules and you lose ingredients one by one. If you aren’t careful you could find yourself dining on plain white rice tonight.”

He couldn't be serious. You’d agreed to this in the registration terms? You had to be imagining this. Maybe you’d gone mad with hunger.

“Dammit. Son of a— ” Kyungsoo was still having a dramatic reaction under his breath. There was cursing. For once you agreed with the man. There was no way you had agreed to this.

He was standing up and he reached a warm hand down and he grabbed ahold of your wrist, pulling you toward the side of the room with an oddly serious look in his eyes. You hadn’t expected to suddenly be manhandled so your legs reacted with hesitation. He had to pull you a little bit harder to get you to actually move but you protested, “What? What’s happening?” You were unprepared. You felt more confused than you were hungry, if that was even possible.

“Were you even listening? This is why you don't have an itinerary. Come on, we have to win dinner. I’m so damn hungry.” With his complaint, your stomach sounded out in agreement as it growled noisily enough for him to hear it too. “Good, maybe you’ll be motivated enough to cooperate.”

“Cooperate? What are we even doing?”

“Games, Princess. Are you slow? We need to play together and win the right to eat that dinner they’ve got us smelling.”

The games, had your partner been anyone else but him, would actually have been fun. They might actually even be something you could win.

You couldn't wrap your brain around feeling bamboozled. When you raised your hand before the first game to ask, “Excuse me, I never got an itinerary,” the upward inflection at the end made it sound like you asked a question and Sara, who had been setting up for a game, was the one to respond.

“Each pair received one itinerary to share,” she said as she moved to another table where she filled a big plastic bowl with cotton balls. She lifted an index finger and pointed at Kyungsoo. “He’s got it and was told to share it.”

His big eyes looked at you and then away from you. Between your hunger and his crimes against you, you couldn't bring yourself to say anything to him. You felt on fire inside.

It had been sabotage after all. This was who he really was. The more you learned, the more you wondered if the universe had saved you that day you’d been stood up by him.

There was a game involving little plastic spoons and cotton balls, the object of which was to work together to scoop up cotton balls while wearing a blind fold with a spoon held between your teeth and place them into a bowl on top of the other person’s head. It required both parties to get close enough to each other to be able to feel where the bowl was. The goal was to get five cotton balls in the bowl. Five cotton balls and you would eat dinner. Just five. This could have been so easy if only you could trust yourself to touch him without wringing his neck.

When time was called and you removed the blind fold you had a single lonely cotton ball inside the bowl on top of his head. His skin was flushed and he looked slightly damp from the effort. He wouldn't meet your eyes. His straight black hair was tousled on top of his head and it laid in a way that was infuriatingly attractive for how much of a scoundrel he was.

The second game was an instant loss. It was some sort of a trivia game in which you had to act out the name of a popular song for him to guess. The man did not know a single of the top 5 hits making their rounds on social media right now. The next round was him acting out the titles of popular animated movies. You hadn’t watched an animated movie since The Land Before Time betrayed your trust and scarred you for life.

The last and final game was back-writing. He drew something on a sheet of paper stuck to your back and you had to guess what it was. He was allowed to choose his own drawing.

It started out well enough. You were 80% sure it was a pair of eyes. Something with a pair of perfectly round circles. Not too big, not too small. There was a smaller round circle in the center of each bigger round circle and there was something wrong with you when he drew the next part. It should have been something easy, something with a face, but there was something strange you were feeling coming out of the tip of his marker.

Something that threw your mind back to more than three hours ago, the little bickering fight you had with him in the room. His wet shirt and muscles below the shirt. His toned and defined bare chest and — and yours. Your transparent top. That comment he made about your wet t-shirt and about just how much he had been able to see of you. The red hot embarrassment you felt when you realized he had seen everything. You’d dwelled on it for a significant amount of time during the time spent upside down on your bed in solitary confinement. His marker was making a double sweeping motion below the circles. The shape of your breasts below your round areolas and perky nipples in the center. There was no mistaking it. You felt your face grow hot. Your breathing quickened and you could feel the upset brewing inside of your belly. How dare he?

Nipples.

Nipples in the center of breasts. No doubt as seen through a wet transparent pink t-shirt and a very sheer lace bra.

Was this man drawing your own nipples on your back?

You gasped out loud at the thought and before you could control yourself you whispered out a scandalized, barely audible guess.

“N-n-nipples?”

“What did she say?” The two people across from you were whispering to each other. “I think she said nipples.”

“She didn't say nipples.”

“She definitely said nipples.”

Kyungsoo’s marker had stopped drawing. You turned around to look into his face, spinning further in some foolish attempt to see the paper that was stuck to your back in the process.

“Did I get it? Did you draw my nipples? Just to fuck with me, right? Because you saw them earlier?”

Kyungsoo’s jaw was clenched and his marker was still hung in the middle of the air. His face was pink and his eyes were closed.

“My nipples, she said. My nipples. He saw her nipples earlier”

After a few seconds he lifted a hand to run over the length of his own face and he reached for the cap of his marker, quickly covering it and tossing it onto the table in front of you with a noisy clatter.

You were straining, reaching behind you to grab the paper with your fingertips. You ripped it off and quickly brought the paper around to look at it.

It was Pororo. The little cartoon penguin from the children’s television show. It was a pretty good likeness. He did a great job. It didn't resemble a pair of tits at all.

You were a fool.

Across the room, you heard the squeak of a dry erase marker. Someone was writing something on the white board. Sara had made a note below the little red heart that sat in the center space between your names.

- he saw her nipples

“I saw his nipples too. Put that down.” You had your finger lifted and you were pointing at Sara. After a few seconds of her looking at you she turned back around and the marker was squeaking again. She placated you and made it even again. You were temporarily satisfied to see, ‘- she saw his nipples too,’ written below the heart.

“I think one of them is more significant than the other.” One of the staff members, Jun spoke up.

“That’s what I said,” Kyungsoo said in agreement.

“Right?” Jun was going now. “I mean a guy’s nipples, that’s everyday stuff. But when a guy sees a woman’s nipples…that’s first base at least.”

Sara was squeaking again. Long slow squeaks. She was circling the ‘nipples’ bullet points. Beside it she wrote “1st base.”

“Wait a minute,” you spoke up, “how is that first—”

“That's not—” Kyungsoo started to object too.

”Okay,” You were both interrupted by Mr. Chen, clapping his hands together, “let’s move on. So you lost the game. That means we get to eat the five course dinner Javier has prepared.”

Another squeak sounded out as Sara flipped the white board over, effectively ending the discussion that the two of you probably weren’t ever supposed to witness anyway. Heads were nodding around the room. You were outnumbered.

Soon you were distracted by a new task he was explaining.

“Not to fret my lovelies, We still have a kitchen loaded with fresh ingredients for you to win. These games will be easier. I’m not a monster,” He was laughing to himself.

Kyungsoo had come to stand by your side and was leaning in to whisper something to you as you tried to pay attention this time to Mr. Chen’s instructions.

“I need you to stop fighting me if we are going to eat anything. We just need a few things and I’ll cook something good. Can you just be nice for like an hour?”

Was he asking you to make a deal with the devil right now? Yeah you would win these ingredients but you weren’t about to forget how he revealed the incident with your nipples during the drawing game.

“You didn't have to do that…talk about the nipples thing like that.”

You felt his hands on you then. He had gripped you by the arms and he spun you around so you could look into his face. His eyes were wide and his expression was deeply, deeply flabbergasted.

“Are you stupid? You did that. You did it. I drew Pororo. I never said anything about your goddamned nipples. They would never have even known about your nipples if you hadn’t said it.”

Oh he was heated. He must also get grumpy when he is hungry.

But he was right. His eyes were full of fire and passion and you replayed the recent betrayal again in your head. You remembered Pororo now. You had just been in such a rush to blame him for everything that you forgot yourself for a bit. You felt like maybe your brain didn’t work right around him. Maybe it had been the strict no carb, low calorie diet you had been on for the month before this trip. You’d packed plenty of sexy bikinis and you’d finally reached a level of confidence in your body at the expense of your own health to wear them. This was supposed to be a beach vacation, afterall.

“Oh yeah, sorry. Yeah that was a good Pororo. I’m just so hungry, I feel like I’m going to pass out.”

The fire in his eyes went out and his expression softened a tiny bit. If you hadn’t been watching his face so closely you might have missed it, it was so subtle. He was looking very closely at your face. His frustrations were replaced with something else entirely. Something you’d never seen before. Something you didn’t feel comfortable commenting on here. You didn’t need that kind of observation written down anywhere that could come back and bite you in the ass later.

“When’s the last time you ate?”

You closed your eyes with his difficult question. You couldn’t remember times anymore. You’d changed too many time zones to get here. “Barracuda,” you whispered with a little head shake. You really did feel awful. You could feel a sticky dampness on your skin.

“Hey, can she get like a banana or something, I don't think she’s okay.”

You’d had something shoved into your palm. Something sweet to eat. You lifted and you took bite after bite, chewing and swallowing and you were steered to sit down. Sara was beside you as you slowly began to feel human again and you looked up into all the faces in the room, admonishing yourself for seeking out one face in particular. You had no business looking for him first.

“I’m okay now. Thank you, Sara.” You patted the back of her hand twice and you stood up, keeping careful control over where your eyes wandered. Sara seemed to be looking at you much too closely and after a few moments she looked behind her where Kyungsoo sat on his nonchalant stool with his nonplussed elbow propped up on his aloof countertop as he waited for you to get your shit together already so he could eat something at some point tonight. She looked back at your face with a slight narrowing of her eyes before she was standing up and making her way back over to that goddamned white board.

You had to ignore the squeaks. She was reading into things again. She had watched way too many romantic comedies and read too many romance novels.

Mr. Chen was explaining the game as her marker squeaked and squeaked and before you had the chance to read what she wrote, the whole board was flipped around again. You’d caught enough only to notice another two entries had been made into the love column between both of your names. You had no idea what she added, and the curiosity was probably going to give you an ulcer.

Mr. Chen wasn’t exaggerating when he said that the games for the ingredients would be easier. They were laughable really; very basic trivia questions that either of you could have answered back in elementary school. You both soon had a pile of things that Kyungsoo would surely be able to spin up into something amazing. You’d never tried his food before but Claire had once said one of his dishes had almost made her leave her husband, so you were sure it was about to be good.

You should have been more on alert. The games were too easy, you should have known that this psychopath Mr. Chen had something up his sleeve.

“Now, If you recall earlier I mentioned that these ingredients that you won come with certain …limitations to their use,” He was explaining again.

“Only one of you will be allowed to handle these ingredients and cook them,” He said.

The limitations were just that. You were both made painfully aware that the use of these ingredients carried with them the extra rule that only one person would be able to cook.

Well that was easy. Kyungsoo would cook. He was literally a chef. You weren’t that great in the kitchen anyway. You could do very basic things but nothing fancy like he could do. Just when you’d allowed your posture to sag a little bit Mr Chen hit you both with the other half of the rule.

“And the one who cooks, will have to be blindfolded as they do it. Whoever is not cooking will be allowed to see, allowed to speak, and allowed to touch the other person, but none of the ingredients. Only the cook will touch the ingredients and as long as ingredients are touched, the cook must remain blindfolded. Any ingredient the non-cook happens to touch will be forfeited. You will have one hour.”

There it was. You felt so very tired.

You felt blindsided. This was ridiculous. One glance at Kyungsoo told you he had similar thoughts about this. It was evident now that those easy ass games to win these ingredients was a sham and the real game was starting right now.

Kyungsoo had reached your side and you could feel the warmth of his arm as he leaned in beside you.

“So, I guess I will cook. You’ll be the one telling me what to do. This isn’t my kitchen, but just tell me where things are and it might work. You wouldn’t,” his eyes narrowed at you and he lifted a finger to lightly gesture in your direction, “you wouldn’t try and actually kill me, right?”

“Kyungsoo,” you rolled your eyes at his silly question, “I promise I will not intentionally kill you today.” It was the best you could do. You were about to blindfold this man and give him fire and blades. You would probably do your best.

“I guess that’s the best I’m going to get. A flimsy promise.”

You had a sudden thought and you reached for his arm, pulling him back from the pile of ingredients he was examining as he got the kitchen area ready.

“I just had the best idea!” You heard your own excitement. “Let’s just eat the ingredients raw. Like a salad maybe.” You’d been looking at the mounds of veggies, you saw zucchini, lettuce and tomatoes, Picking up the mandoline and pretending to slice the cucumber as you added, “Sometimes you need to eat an entire cucumber,” with a giggle. He didn't laugh. He didn't get it.

He looked at your face and shook his head back and forth. He was not online enough to get the reference.

“Are you a grizzly bear? Eat this raw?” He asked bluntly while motioning to the entire fish complete with head, scales and tail fins that laid on the countertop in front of him. “No way am I wasting this. Look at its eyes. This was caught this morning. Right Javier?”

“Yes, Chef Doh!” Javier shouted in excitement from the big table where the crew, Mr. Chen, Sara, Javier and the two younger staff members, Jun and Roxy, were already eating the fancy dinner, just as Mr. Chen had promised they would. It looked and smelled delicious and you frowned toward Kyungsoo, giving in, out of defeat to whatever maniac-esque idea he had about cleaning and cooking this entire fish while blindfolded.

“Just because I’m eating doesn’t mean I’m not watching you two. Remember the rules!” Mr. Chen shouted across the table between bites, lifting his steak knife and pointing it toward you for emphasis.

Kyungsoo had his blindfold on. You waved a hand in front of his face to make sure he couldn’t see anything and you even dipped your head down below his face to see if he could somehow peak through the bottom. He gave you no reaction and you motioned to the group at the table that the blindfold was secure.

Kyungsoo was just standing there and you very quickly realized the entire point of this.

You had to touch him.

“Umm…” you mumbled out, “I’m going to touch you. Just a warning,” you added lamely.

“I figured you might,” he monotoned and you lifted both of his forearms so his hands were elevated, grabbing each of his hands you turned them palm up.

Ignore this.

This was survival.

Ignore this, it’s not even happening. You repeated this to yourself again.

His skin was warm and smooth. The backs of his hands had some of the softest skin you’d ever felt below your fingertips and you had to actually cradle his hand within yours to hand him the vegetables. He was standing beside the sink, washing things. It was a splashy, messy thing. You grabbed his wrists to guide him to the colander and towels.

“Which way is the bowl?” His hands were reaching across the countertop.

“Left,” you said while also trying arrange the cutting board and knife on the counter.

His hand reached out fast and he knocked a head of lettuce, sending it flying as it rolled off the counter onto the floor.

You heard giggles at the dinner table.

“Sorry, I meant right.”

“Right?” He reached right and found the bowl easily. That lettuce was gone. You weren't allowed to pick it up.

“Yeah, I get them mixed up. Sorry,” It was definitely your mistake. You always had trouble with the horizontal directions. You didn't know what it was about them but they never came out right the first time. Not when you were rushed and didn’t have a chance to really think about it.

“You get right and left mixed up?” Kyungsoo was talking now, he was lining up carrots and zucchinis on his cutting board and he was carefully feeling everything with his fingertips; the location of the knife, the location and orientation of the vegetables and he made a quick cut of the tops of the vegetables, clearing the scraps away with the blade.

“But they never change. Right will always be right. You only have to learn it once.”

“Feels like it moves to me, I guess. I never get it right. East and West too. I’ve always been like this.”

“Ahh, so just touch me next time, instead of saying right or left, okay?,” His small concession left you feeling odd in a kind of warm way. It wasn’t judgmental or pushy. Just accommodating. You didn't dwell on it. He was chopping. He was quick, even without his sight you could see the small touches he made with his finger tips curved in a way to direct the blade. The resulting slices were all perfectly even and he made such quick work of the vegetables you actually had trouble clearing the spaces as he worked. You had to work twice as fast as you thought you might to keep up with him.

The team of staff members had slowly finished their meal and had made their way to the countertop to watch.

One thing that struck you was how very calm he sounded here. Nothing felt urgent or angry. He was very controlled in this environment. There were small whispers.

“Where is the filet knife? It’s long and skinny and very sharp.” And you would respond by leading his elbow in the direction of the knife handle, always being sure to hand him only the handles and never any parts that might injure him. He found a rhythm naturally; moving around the space as if he could actually see where he was going. He even mixed something sweet looking into a container and popped it in the freezer behind him with minimal help from you.

Each of his questions received a quick response from you. Each instruction received immediate action.

“Can you fill the two saucepans on the stove with water and put them on high to boil? She can touch the water, right?”

“I need tweezers and a damp paper towel placed above the cutting board.”

“Where is the trash?”

You were moving as instructed, feeling quite proud of yourself when you’d anticipate something he needed and giving it to him the second he began to ask.

“Towel?”

“Here.”

“Oil?”

“Right here.”

“Garlic?”

“Here it is.”

Eventually a sauce was made. Fish was cut up in sections with a little, “are you very hungry? I’ll make bigger pieces,” as he touched the filet with his fingertips to gauge the size and thickness of the cuts.

Maybe this was your calling. Maybe you were meant to be a seeing eye person for a famous chef. You cleaned up behind him with ease, leading him to the tongs and even letting him know the moment you thought his frying pan was hot enough for the fish. He reached a hand out very close to the pan and you pulled his back hand fearing he might not realize how hot it was.

“It’s okay, I need to feel it.” He got very close to it and said, “You’re right, it’s perfect.” You felt about as full as you could. That was a compliment, right?

He hovered with his tongs over the fish and asked, “do I have it?” And you adjusted his position just a little before you confirmed, both with a soft “yes” and a little tap of your fingertips over his hand that held the tongs.

From your peripheral vision you could see Sara scribbling something on that damned white board of hers.

Most of his mixing and seasoning seemed to be happening by smell. You noticed he leaned in very close to smell everything he was using. Mixing sauces was done by smell too. He would add more of something after getting a good smell of it and finally he dipped his pinky finger in to taste the result. He was mostly quiet as he did this but after a few simple nods of his head he must have particularly liked something he came up with because he dipped his finger in again, holding it out in the direction of where you stood.

“Try this,” he said and you stared at his outstretched finger with some thick light colored sauce on the end of it. Both of your hands were full. You were holding the next things he would need for the fish and he was shaking his finger, looking for you, “where did you go? Taste this.”

You leaned then, letting your lips part over the sauce and trying to get only the sauce between your lips. You left behind most of it on his finger.

What you tasted though, was almost magical. How in the hell did a flavor like this come out of that random pile of ingredients you both won in the games?

“Oh wow,” you remarked honestly. Kyungsoo pulled his hand down and stuck his finger back into his mouth licking off the rest of the sauce you left behind and nodded his head in agreement.

“Good, right?”

Behind you, there was a furious squeaking as Sara wrote yet another bullet point on that blasted white board. Probably calling this little exchange your first indirect kiss with the man. Probably highlighting how you hesitated before moving in and how nonchalant you acted about it while your ears turned bright red from the embarrassment of technically having swapped saliva with the man.

Your hour for cooking was almost up. Mr. Chen had been occasionally announcing the amount of time remaining and you were gathering plates for him to serve things up.

“He can’t see can he?” Someone asked as they watched him work. The other members of the staff were enthralled and you watched in wonder as he plated dishes in pairs, starting with some puree he had made, swirling it beautifully on the bottom of the plate before placing the fish on top and topping the whole thing with two different sauces. On top of all of it went some sprinkling of something bright green and bright orange. The other plate had a chopped salad with greens, nuts and fresh fruit. He even pulled a sorbet out of the freezer for dessert and you could hardly believe this man had really made all of this in an hour while blindfolded. Even with your help the results itself were remarkable.

When the timer went off he removed his blindfolded and looked down at the spread, giving the smallest nod of approval.

“Now don’t go doing something stupid like falling in love with me after you eat this, Princess.”

It had been a joke, of course. It was received as a joke and the room erupted in chuckles. You had trouble with forcing the laugh in a way that was natural and convincing and you knew the reason why.

It was because part of why you’d been so hurt by everything cruel and mean that he had said and done to you so far was because you knew deep down inside that you were already very much in danger of doing the very thing he had warned you against.

So you did not laugh at his joke and the food was probably the most delicious meal you’d ever experienced in your entire life.

You did not laugh at his joke, not like Javier who chuckled whole-heartedly from the kitchen as he took taste tests of everything Kyungsoo had cooked.

You just ate your delicious food in silence and avoided the curious eyes of Sara who, alarmingly, also did not laugh at Kyungsoo's joke.

Sara who only watched you while you avoided Kyungsoo’s eyes for the rest of the night.

Sara, who came to some sort of conclusion that required her to stand up, walk up to her insufferable white board and squeak, squeak, squeak out some new bullet point below the hand drawn red heart that sat between your names.

Links: Part 1, Part 2, Part 3

[jaxxsoxxn]

>> ELIMF SAYS HORN IT UP [gn!reader x elimf x odxny]

elimf uses he/him pronouns (bc im pretty sure he's referred to himself as a guy? but that's about all the reasoning), uses they/them for everyone else.

Probably ooc, im still figuring everyone out ;;

smth silly <3 I take requests if this barely existing fandom is alive

lowkey horny elimf for the duo, even if he doesn't realize it for the most part.

tw. drinking; irresponsible drinking especially; kind of dissociation but depends on how u look at it; elimf is technically having a bad fcking day even if it's not stated clearly.

im writing it at, like, 1am n i might not notice most of the uhhh writing errors.

___

El didn't smoke that much lately, but he was sipping lazily a beer while using only one hand to write back in the chatroom. He wasn't sure which beer was it, but he was pretty buzzed at this point.

"Elimf" looked at the words passing his screen with a small smirk. Thrim, bless them, gave them a year of peace. As they learned more and more, they finally decided to try to find them and ask them to join something a bit more like a social groupchat, still hidden from curious eyes if or when they wanted to brag about their possible hacks.

If you'd ask him before thrim, if he'd chat with incri or even wnpep out of his own will for simple fun after they're done, he'd laugh. Now here he was, sending a meme of a staring hamster after pep made the mistake of saying something vaguely sexual.

All he gets is the staring emoji.

He sits back in his chair, a low sound leaving it with the move, almost like a whine. After a few slow blinks and a deep sigh, he finally looks back at the screen.

thrim: lmao stare off, you got this elimf

He should go to sleep.

He should leave the chatting for later today, the clock on his laptop showing 2 AM.

Instead, he slides into thrim's dms, one simple message being sent before he closes his eyes and takes another sip.

He wishes he'd have something heavier to drink.

elimf: wanna have a drink with me?

thrim is writing...

It only takes one more sip for the bottle to be empty and, thus, useless. He hovers with his mouse on the text, asking himself if he'll delete the message, will thrim have enough brain in their head to not mention it. He's too late in the end.

thrim: I'd be down, as long as you're aware that od will be there somewhere in the back thrim: I mean, they'll probably hear us thrim: Just wanted you to know thrim: and also had to ask them if they're okay with it beforehand, so that's why it took a while for me to respond thrim: in case you were wondering

Talk about not carrying about double- or, well, quintuple texting. If that's a thing. If not, trust thrim to be the one to come up with it.

He calls without answering the texts, his finger slipping once while trying to do so. Maybe he's drunker than he thought he was. He doesn't disconnect.

"Hi there, elimf!"

The way their voice goes softer, slower around his "name" makes him chuckle. They were obviously trying their best at sounding it out. The idea of them trying it out beforehand made him a little heated.

"Just L's fine." he states, noting a green smudge in their background. "How's ya, thrim?"

He wants to stay silent and just watch them as time passes, he wants to reach for them and pull- their hair, their skin, the hoodie that's obviously not theirs, anything.

He tries to take another sip and grimaces when the empty bottle lightly hits his teeth, too light without any liquid. Furthermore, he lets it fall, ignoring the breaking glass as he reaches for another. Thrim doesn't seem to be good at following in his footsteps.

"You're alright?" they have a slight accent, something so soft that it's barely there. "Did the bottle break?"

There's music in his headphones. He doesn't remember when it was turned on, he cannot remember if it was playing before he called.

"Ya didn't answer me." he says it almost childishly, a stupid grin on his face. The green smudge in the back becomes more visible, the person stopping in their tracks.

"I'm alright, would be better if I'd know if you're good too."

He's staring, probably. He lets himself look down at the new bottle in his hand, before popping the top off with his teeth. As he does so, thrim holds a shot glass, already filled. The green wearing person has a fox mask on that looks like their emojis. They also have a shot glass in one hand and their other hand is patting thrim's shoulder.

He knows it's Od, he knows it so well it hurts, but all he can do is think about how much he wished it wouldn't be odxny themselves. How much easier would being jealous be if he wouldn't know them.

How much easier knowing who he was jealous of would be, too.

"Ya'r drinkin' with us, oddy? What a blessin'" his accent is getting the best of him, he should try to fight it a bit more.

He gets a delicate chuckle back, the mask lowering itself with their face, as Od shakes their head lightly at that. He wants to tear it off, he wants it to be an actual part of him.

He feels unreal, his mind is getting sharp even if his vision seems to be worse - there's an ache in his chest, almost like he's smoked too much-

"L? We're drinking or what?"

With the other voice joining in, he finally remembers to breath. He really shouldn't drink another.

"Of course, unless ya'r already chickenin' out." he slightly grimaces at those words, a pained laugh leaving his throat. "That was a bit too incy for me."

Wnpep would've tried to scold him, Incri would've thrown a fit - but the two just laugh with him, odxny lighter than thrim, but still easy to be heard.

As they raise their glasses, the masked one whispers something to thrim before downing their own. Thrim, stars above, Thrim puts their mouth around the rim of the glass and raise their head, letting their whole neck show and their Adam's apple show off its movement. Two swallows is all it takes, before they whip their head back and lay the glass back down.

He wants to scream, the bottle stopped halfway to his mouth, his other hand's nails biting into the skin on his left thigh.

Thrim outright laughs, their eyes squinted and their hair becoming even messier. Od rests their head in the place where the shoulder and the neck connect, an obvious smirk on their lips as they shake lightly with their own laughter.

He's bright red - he realizes, while blinking owlishly.

"You did this on purpose."

Thrim smirks at him, leaning back lightly. A tiny change, yet still a change. Whatever was the trap they laid down, he walked right into it.

"What can we say, we wanted to know if you'll like what you'll see half as much as we do."

He takes the sip he was meaning to before, his eyes following Od's hand, which was playing with Thrim's hair.

As another chuckle left them, thrim sent him a wink. He couldn't handle it.

He let himself disconnect, a smile on his lips as he stood away from the desk, moving the glass slowly with his bare foot to the side, so he wouldn't step on the bigger parts. A shower and a power nap sounds like a dream duo to him right now and those feelings? Those real feelings that he felt at the duo teasing? Well, those are for the rare sober elimf, thank the stars.

[forkloverr]

MORE OLDER LEON HEADCANNONS!!!

I thought I would take advantage of me and @pixieishottogo 's older Leon brain rot AND also answer this ask that had been sitting in my inbox (SORRY!!) anyways.... infinite darkness Leon supremacy <3 🤍 - No silliness (if you know what I mean) but Leon gets a little mischievous at the end 🤍 - calls reader 'princess' 🤍 - An older Leon was in mind while writing this, but to each their own :)

stubble.

The moon is piercing through the windows, various lamps and small lights illuminate the space around you. Soft jazz is quietly playing in the background. It’s approximately 2 AM, and instead of being honked out and snoozing in your warm comfortable bed, you’re hunched over the stove, cooking a warm meal for your husband, Leon, to come back to. He had been called to an impromptu mission earlier that day, and you just knew he wouldn’t be coming home at a reasonable time. So, you sacrifice your precious sleep and prepare a home-cooked meal for him to enjoy as he rests his aching body. You softly rub your droopy sleepy eyes, picturing a sad Leon standing in front of the microwave heating up some instant ramen. That is NOT how your husband is going to look tonight, and you were sure of it. Who knows how much time had passed, it seemed like these noodles would never be done, and maybe, just maybe, you could rest your eyes a little…. It couldn't hurt, right?

As sleep seductively enchants you, a hot prickly sensation overtakes you as haunting lips plant on your neck. Large sturdy arms slither around your waist, and just before you could scream bloody murder, a familiar husky voice appears. “Well well, what is this? Isn’t it a bit late for a princess like you to be awake?” Leon whispers, kissing your cheek as those last words exit his mouth. Your body immediately relaxes, the threat of a (very hot) murderer killing you as you're making homemade ramen no longer exists. Through an obviously fatigued voice, you reply, removing your hand from the pot to rest upon his scarred hand. “I didn’t want you to come home lonely and hungry..” You feel the heat rise to your cheeks, realizing how corny that sounded out loud. (Or maybe it was the steam from the noodles) Leon’s arms squeeze you gently, his head moving back to your neck. “Mmm… How sweet of you, now I feel guilty for not bringing you anything as a repayment.” Then and there you could tell what mischievous plan he was formulating in his beautiful brain. He knew your weakness, HE KNEW very well what it would do to you. And perhaps just wanting to see you squirm, he did just that. Once again pleasant goosebumps arise from your neck as Leon kisses your neck, purposely letting his stubble graze your sensitive skin. You start to giggle, his touch heating up your whole body. Just like he imagined, you squirm beneath his touch, softly grasping at his arms that were keeping you captive. Oh but he doesn't stop, in fact it almost encourages him to keep going. It feels like lava is pooling in your stomach, and butterflies are traveling up your throat, transforming into those sugary sweet giggles he craves to hear. His steamy breath ricochets off your neck, teasing you for more. “Have I messed with you enough dear? I don't think so… maybe just one mor-” The sound of bubbles boiling over the stove interrupts his snarky torture, and immediately reminds you that you were supposed to be watching the noodles. “Oh..” You squeak. Leon finally releases you, spinning you around to look at him while also turning the heat down on the stove. Placing one calloused hand along your jaw, he kisses your lips softly. “Thank you for this love, but after we eat, don't think I’m done with you..” He winks.