#like what am i doing is the question i guess

[rusmii]

𝜗𝜚 (HIS) ONLY

ft. dazai, chuuya, atsushi, akutagawa x fem!reader ; how they spend their december with you. cws; tooth rotting fluff, not edited, may be ooc.

love, runi. dear gosh its been so long since ive written 😭... i have a nsfw draft in the works, but i was feeling fluff atm 🙂‍↕️💗. i hope i did the boys justice 😭��� and it doesnt seem too ooc :(. additionally, i don't think i'm going to disclose the actual reason for being offline for so long. am i sorry for deactivating? nah...

the 24th — his hands ran cold, puffs of icy air battling the hot cry of warmth. he could feel the ache in his bones, yearning for the fire a room away. "isn't it cold?" you ask dazai, who was sitting upright on the edge of your shared futon. "it is," he answers, a whisper so loud, even the wind howls with it. you shift away, holding the large coze of your blanket up high, a cave forming in mere seconds. "then get in." you say with a tired face, "i'm cold too, 'samu." warm me up, he almost missed. without protest, he curls up into your arms—embrace heating the ac he calls his blood. "can't sleep?" you ask the obvious, knowing he appreciated the sentiment anyways. "no." you can feel the small shake his head makes, as slow as a toddler may stand to understand physics, dazai is the same with himself.

it was confusing, all energy he focuses on you, is forced back on him with a stern lecture from you. every bicker and mumbles of defeat helps see the purpose of your intentions. "how are you going to take care of me, when you can't take care of yourself?" a question he could argue with, but deep down—he'd ponder the same question in his head. if he took care of himself, it'd make you happy, and him feeling unsure. if he took care of you, it'd make him happy, at the cost of your disappointment with him. take care of yourself, osamu. you'd always cry sheep as you comforted him. the same building resentment of having his freedom forced onto a schedule quietly turned into appreciation for your efforts.

you didn't leave him. didn't need to help him. you did anyways, the warm flutter he always feels whenever his hand grazes yours or the accidental eye contact throughout the day, was already telling enough. dazai wasn't obligated to show any gratefulness, and neither were you—yet you still did it. and every year since the day of your anniversary, there was always something special waiting for him. clothes, games, your love; everything, was there, in a box wrapped with his blues and your yellows. he envisions each gift to the tune of a shake from the box. each of them perfect, and what he preferred to have on this special occasion.

the 24th, his special gift waiting for you under the tree. to be opened, to be named, that's up to you to guess. but the small gift glistening underneath, cannot wait 'til morning. "i wonder what you got me." he feels your chest rumble softly. in almost an instant, the wear and tear of his job finally catches up to him. "you'll find out soon." dazai smiles against your chest, the soothing lullaby of your breathing nearly puts him to sleep. "happy anniversary, osamu. i hope you'll like my gift tomorrow." a few small circles rub dazai's head. he doesn't fall asleep until you do first. "i know i will," his voice quieter, gentler, matching the tempo of the dying breeze. and you'll love mine too, goes unheard. baby steps, baby steps were still baby steps.

the 25th — you looked just like a dream, the prettiest girl he's ever seen. in chuuya's mind, nothing quite comes and goes as slowly as your beauty. in fact, everyone assumes it's permanent by how he's so enamored—consumed with adoration. it should come as a surprise to no one, when he gifts you a personalized advent calendar to count down the days of his super secret selection of affection that chosen day. first it was hugs all day, then came kisses on the 3rd, and—oh he was so overwhelming with his love! and yet, you could never be bore of it. an excited squeal always left your mouth as soon the clock hit midnight, chuuya already making preparations for his swooning affection for the month of deer. "how's today?" he asks, seeking your approval from the early box picking. "perfect," you say, "i think you'll have me falling from the balcony with the way i'm falling for everything you do for me." he chuckles, "don't die yet, you still have a day, counting six extra, left."

the following day, you're awoken to the soft scent of cinnamon and marshmallows filling the tiniest gaps of air. you struggle to waken fully, still groggy from your late night endeavors with chuuya. matter of fact, where was he? it wasn't unusual for him to leave in the yawn of morning hours, but on his month off.. assuming the solution by the smell, you make way to the kitchen where chuuya stood behind a counter. he notices you in his vision before releasing a blinging smile. "good mornin' beautiful." a wink catches your eye, "couldn't sleep without me?" he says while patting fluffy pancakes down, each stacked imperfectly delicious with a drizzle of syrup and fruits decorating it. "and if i did?" you match his tease, creating an easy tension that could dissolve in any minute.

"well then, i won't keep ya' waiting." his lips form a familiar slant. using his ability to carry the plates and breakfast stand, chuuya's arms are already lifting you bridal. "why're you out of bed? i thought i gave myself enough time to surprise you." he nearly pouts to your face, not embarrassed to do so in front of you. you laugh it off, " 'tis okay, chu." booping him, he drops you onto the bed as some sort of petty revenge. "only if you say so." his lips met your cheek, propping the breakfast tray as you perched on your bottom. your stomach growled in anticipation, kneading the inner lining of your stomach. "well?" he asks, awaiting your approval once again. you picked up a fork and stabbed it into the fluffy pancake. bringing it up to his face, you tell him to open his mouth.

"first bite!" you nudge it closer, "okay," and without another word, chuuya took the entire thing into his mouth, "mmm - wow delicious. why don't you say; thank you chef nakahara." the mischievous in his tone was hard to miss—a smirk you wanted to wipe off his face. "you're welcome my princess." a giggle escaped with it. acting annoyed with the nickname, chuuya sneakily placed a dot of syrup on your cheek. "chuuya!" you gasp, scrambling to wipe away the sticky substance. "my bad, dear prince."

a small smack hit his shoulder, "go away!" nodding his head, he moves to get up, but is stopped by a small tug on his arm. "and bring me my gifts please." he thinks for a moment, arms relaxing and his body sinking back onto the bed. "oh? you mean the ones i threw in the fire to keep you warm last night? those presents? from under the tree?—ow! kidding!" he threw his arms up in surrender after getting smacked again, this time harder.

the 16th — when it came to december, atsushi was no stranger to the cold weather. being nearly stripped of everything but rags for clothes, he often got sick without compromise from the orphanage. when it came to his life in the agency—his life with you—he was taken care of, given affection he was denied, able to show the vulnerability the director shut down. in his own little mind, you were the stage centerpiece; a transition from the filthy pinecone to the golden star he finally got to place on his tree. "quiet," he almost flinches, until he heard a melody instead of the desolate, angry, mob. he opened his eyes, eyes blinding him with your beauty. "an angel?" he questions, still hazed from his pain. "no," you laugh, replacing the towel on his head, "[name]."

"[name]..." he repeats, affirming his belief of being fine and alive. in your shared home—kyouka standing beside you. "is he going to be okay?" her weary voice echoes concern, to which you pat her head and tell her to fetch some more water. "of course he is, he's atsushi. i need a refill, can you do it for me?" with kyouka hurriedly jogging away, you're left alone with atsushi. he moans, his joints aching with every twist. "are you doing okay?" you ask, rubbing soft circles on his palm. "feel so nauseous." he mumbles, throat hoarse like the attack on trojans. you cooed, a sweet lullaby that comforts him through thick and thin, "feel better soon, m'kay?" he bobs his head like copier, obedient. atsushis' peace answers with silence.

admist your little moment, kyouka arrives back with the water in hand. she hands you the small bowl and takes her seat next to you again. "he seems at ease," she notes. "does he?" you question, busying yourself with replacing the towel every now and then. "mhm," she nods, "i'm glad." a small smile comes foward on her dollified expression. kyouka also takes notice of the faint blush resting on his face, daint and obvious. she doesn't speak up about it, opting to pop the question in when atsushi was better. for now, she'll wonder what you two had talked about while she was out of the room.

the 31st — if akutagawa had any say about attending any gift-related events, he'd stay home. if akutagawa had any shred of empathy left, he'd conserve it just for you. a mistake, honestly. he curses to the devils' and above for forcing his heart to ponder sweetly for you. "no," he says, unwavering in his decision. "but, ryu!!" you whine so casually, wanting him to give in and get out of his comfort zone. you knew it wasn't an easy task, seeing as your beloved friend preferred to stay within the four white walls the port mafia created. "annoying," he grumbles, eyes tilting blinding anger, "leave me be." he shoves past you, destined to cast away your binding spell. you stand there, resolve strong as ever while defending against hollow words. "be that way," you sigh, "but before you leave, let me give you this." you pull out a small present, throwing it to akutagawa who caught it with rashomon.

"what's this?" he inquired, an annoyed grunt passing his lips when you don't answer and turn on your heels to leave. annoying, he thinks again. he decides to unravel his gift later, when he was in the comforts of his own home. "what's inside?" gin poked at it, wanting her brother to hurry it up already. "don't know, [name] gave it to me]." he sighs—a gentle remonstrance. gin nods in understanding, waiting eagerly for her brother to tear the paper apart. inside laid a small box, "is it jewelry?" akutagawa shrugged his shoulds, "might be."

he uncovers the tiny trinket inside. it appeared to be a plain, silver lining necklace with nothing attached. at the bottom of the box, a note read; a pitiful necklace for your grey home, truly, a noteworthy gift you thought of. "seems like [name] really likes you," gin jokes about. akutagawa was quick to shut it down though, not in the mood to entertain any lovey dovey tease. "alright, alright," she giggles, "are you going to the party tonight?" she switches the topic. the mafia didn't often hold parties—this year being an exception—to keep their reputation in check. "no, i don't think i will." gin pouts at her brothers' rejection. "i won't force you, but maybe you'd enjoy it." you'll see [name], is what she's implying. as much as he can deny the pointed accusations, it was obvious to others around, that akutagawa held a soft spot for you. he grounded himself, "no." his mental fortude will not be broken down by measly gifts. "mhm–okay," gin hides her grin exceptionally well.

on the day of the party, you're feeling gorgeous in your outfit, hair done and kept to match it. you greet others with polite grace, "good evening to you too executive ozaki." you return her greeting. she does a curt bow before leaving the short talk. hunger gnawed a tight grip on your stomach, a loud growl emitting nothing against the loud chatter of the room. you scan the area for the nearest buffet table to ease your hunger. spotting none, you traverse the mounts of cleanliness ordor into another area of the building, where you laid eyes on an exquisite high-top table filled to the edge of some of your favorites. your inner-self squealed in excitement, still needing to maintain your professional composure while walking down to it.

the closer you got, a familiar voice rang nearby. "i'd rather not talk about it," he adjusts the chain sitting on his neck, your eyes catching wind of his movements unbeknownst to him. "aww, c'mon akutagawa! just tell us!!" tachihara whined drunkenly, using gin as support as he leaned on her. "no," he says. "my brother is a little shy on the outside. don't worry tachihara–i promise he's feeling fluttery on the inside." gin reassures her friend with light taps on his hand. "am not." he glares, hardly ever removing that mean scowl of his. tachihara was about to make a scene until he flinched from your voice, "it's all in the tone, tachi," your half assed smirk eased in—delighted to see akutagawa wearing your gift, "the chain suits you, doesn't it?" you smile, that teasing glint shining in your teeth nearly makes the man in question falter.

"it does," he mutters, walking away with a clenched heart—the blush on the tip of his ears giving away his true feelings.

@ rusmii—everything is owned by mayira, she doesn't appreciate copyright breaches.

anyways lil rant at the bottom but, if ur not a writer, then u have no right to complain abt the amount of smut to fluff ratio 😭 (even then, as a writer, u should understand that complaining is not going to change anything).

im also tired of yall bitching abt everything in the x reader tag 😐 gtfo the place where ppl come to READ fics, not read ur bitching 🙏!

[complaining abt xyz] "oh im going to put this in the x reader tags to gain attention and sympathy for my cause!" OH MY FUCKING GOD SHUT THE FUCK UP!!!

anyways, hello guys ik i wasn't gone for that long, but it feels like forever (cause i haven't written anything good yes ik). buuut.. my hyperfixiation on bsd isnt leaving anytime soon so why not make the most of it rn and write again. next fic is def smut 😴🤞.

[goopgirlie813]

Fair, I guess. I see where you are coming from. 

From my perspective, the reason serial criminals like Dahmer get brought up is because it is the situation where prisons seem the most necessary. Like, at least temporarily, if someone is killing and raping other people they should be separated from society so they can't access victims, right? Even if just until they finish some form of rehab. And in my mind, none of the things you proposed seemed like they would actually deny serial criminals access to victims. Forceful detention, even just temporarily, seems in my mind like the most reliable way to keep someone like Dahmer from having an opportunity to reoffend. That's the key, opportunity to reoffend. I find it terrifying to imagine a society where someone can be caught and convicted and sentenced for horrific crimes and still have the opportunity to access victims if they want. I think that's what most people are trying to do with that argument. Not an infinite loop but an (admittedly poorly executed) expression of the fear that without prison people like Dahmer could just continue killing. Intuitively it seems like these people won't stop unless they are incapable of continuing and prison is an easy to understand way to make their reoffenses impossible. Its scary to imagine taking that away and reintroducing that possibility. 

That said, now that I've cooled off a bit I think I can better see why you are frustrated. You have been answering to the best of your ability but there have been layers of uncommunicated assumptions beneath the questions we were asking that we (or I, at least) didn't even realize were there. I thought I was being more straightforward than I was because I took for granted the ways your perspective differed from what I am familiar with. 

I assumed that it was a given that Serial Criminals need a forceful denial of access to victims in order to be adequately addressed and I also assumed that it was a given that prisons are the only way to guarantee that. The way it has always been presented to me, prisons are the definitive method of stopping a crime and those crimes can only continue harming the public if the perpetrator is outside of the prison. So follow that logic train, if someone won't stop reoffending you need to be able to draw a line somewhere by putting them in prison or else it will never end. Therefore, if you abolish prisons, some criminals will never and can never be stopped so we will be forced to accept the fact that we may be murdered or raped or whatever at any random point and there will be nothing anyone can do to stop them. (Except extrajudicial violence, of course, but that's really no way to run a stable society.)

And I'm sure you will see some glaring issues with that train of thought that aren't so obvious to me, but hopefully that makes it make a little more sense.

The key problem here, I think, is that we believe that some form of detention is the only way to definitively stop certain people from re-offending. Specifically for the scenarios where the crime is a serious danger to others, like rape and murder. We want a definitive solution to exist somewhere because if it doesn't then the mere existence of Dahmer types evokes a feeling of terrified helplessness, "what if we can't change them? What if there's nothing we can do to be safe?" 

Detention seems like the only truly definitive answer (or at least, the most definitive available) so what's really being asked is, "is there a point in which you will allow prison in emergencies or do you have a different, equally definitive way to stop them?" and no number of rehabilitation or reduction options listed will ever satisfy that question. There needs to be something that can forcefully prevent killers who want to kill from killing (or raping or stealing or whatever) in that time period between conviction and reform, or else we will never find complete prison abolition an acceptable option, no matter how much we support rehabilitation as the primary approach (as I do. I only argue for detention as an emergency back up plan for repeat offenders of horrific crimes, to keep them from hurting people if or until they can be successfully rehabilitated). Without that, it seems like a gaping hole, an oversight, a blind spot, a loophole for the worst of the worst to terrorize us without adequate consequence or barriers.

I was getting really frustrated that you were treating the "what if they reoffend?" question like a rhetorical trick because in my mind it was asking, "How do we prevent people who want and intend to kill us from actually being able to kill us?" (big fear for those in marginalized groups who face frequent hate and threats) but to you it seems it sounded like "how can we trick you into supporting prisons and admitting you're wrong?" And while you seem to have been trying to say, "I'm not budging on my opinion unless you can convince me that prisons are valuable," it sounded to us like, "so what if they kill people? Prisons fail too much anyway so letting them go on murder sprees really isn't any worse if you think about it. Allowing a little murder and rape here and there is just the price of a fair and just society." And while that probably sounds bonkers to you I hope it explains why you're getting the reactions you are. I mean, imagine how you would react if you thought someone was telling you that, if they couldn't just talk him into being a good person, they would have shrugged it off and willingly let Jeffery fucking Dahmer continue roaming free for the sake of "improvement" and dismissed his victims as collatoral damage. Not what you were saying, but the miscommunication sure as hell made it sound that way. In reality, we are all talking past each other and having two separate conversations and the same time without realizing it. 

(Hope I understood what you were trying to say correctly.) 

so yeah I apologize for making you pull out your hair, I've been doing the same. Hopefully this helps at least a little bit. Even if you still think we're being irrational and foolish for this position I hope it gives you a little more clarity moving forward.

Pretty sure @needabetternamelater has reblogged like 5 of my posts and then blocked me. So that's funny. But, just in case it's just a glitch that won't let me reblog those replies.

What do we do with rapists in a prisonless society? Well, 1. Fewer than 1% of rapists go to prison, so holding up prison as the standard that any other solution has to beat isn't hard. What do with do with rapists in a society with prisons? For 99+%? Not prison.

2. Prisons do not reduce the amount of rapes that happen. So again, prison fails pretty handedly at being both a prevention and a punishment. (It's a bit like arguing 'without the death penalty, what will we do with shop lifters?")

3. I've explain many times, on posts you've responded to, the variety of responses a justice system can have to any crime, including sexual assault. Mandatory counseling, restraining orders, restorative/reparation hearings, housing and employment restrictions, fines, caseworker check ins, mental health consults, and vocational training are all possible responses, and which would would have the best chance of preventing recidivism would depend on the specifics of that person and the risk factors in them reoffending.

In the past, we locked people in pillories and cut off their hands for crimes. Phasing out a cruel and ineffective punishment doesn't mean there's free reign for crime.

[scarluna]

Y/N, a gifted but self-conscious graphic designer, lands a job at Jeon Enterprises, a powerhouse ruled by the sharp and controlling Jeon Jungkook, whose ruthless perfectionism hides behind an enigmatic façade. Though admired and feared, Jungkook targets Y/N’s insecurities, using them as weapons against her.

Beside him stands his best friend, Min Yoongi, a sly and unpredictable force whose hot-and-cold behavior leaves Y/N questioning his motives.

Tangled in a web of cold authority, teasing games, and unspoken desire, Y/N must navigate a dangerous love triangle where ambition and emotion collide, threatening to unravel everything.

Pairing: Jungkook x Fem!Reader x Min Yoongi

Genre/Tags: plus sized reader, enemies to lovers, ceo!jungkook, graphic designer!reader, mafia!yoongi

Link to the other chapters: ACT I / ACT II / ACT III / ACT IV / ACT V

Word Count so far: 48.5k

Chapters: 6 / ?

Chapter Warnings: mature language, bullying, slow burn, enemies to lovers, love triangle

ACT VI.

The crisp winter air nipped at my cheeks as I stepped out of my apartment building, my scarf wrapped snugly around my neck. It was a lazy Sunday, the kind of day where I would’ve normally curled up with a book or caught up on my favorite shows. But today was different. Today, Taehyung had insisted we spend the day together—no work, no drama, just us.

As I adjusted my coat, making sure not to freeze despite the sun outside, I saw him across the street, standing next to a streetlamp. He looked effortlessly handsome in a cream-colored sweater under a beige trench coat, his dark hair slightly tousled by the breeze. His eyes lit up the moment he spotted me, and I couldn’t help but smile back.

In his hands was a small bouquet of flowers—white daisies and pink tulips, delicate and cheerful.

“For you,” he said as I approached, holding the bouquet out with a boyish grin.

“Flowers?” I teased, taking them gently. “Are you trying to win me over?”

He smirked. “Maybe. Is it working?”

I laughed, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. “It’s a good start.”

We began walking down the quiet street, the crunch of our shoes against the pavement mingling with the sounds of the city waking up. A few blocks away, we found our favorite little café, the one with the cozy atmosphere and the best hot chocolate in town.

Taehyung held the door open for me, and we were greeted by the familiar scent of cocoa and cinnamon. The café was warm, a stark contrast to the chilly weather outside.

“Two hot chocolates?” the barista asked with a knowing smile as we approached the counter.

“You know us too well,” Taehyung replied with a soft chuckle. We have been visiting this coffee shop back when we were only college students. This place held memories of us. And I cherished it a lot.

Once our drinks were ready—complete with whipped cream and a sprinkle of cocoa powder—we found a corner booth by the window. The steam from the mugs curled into the air as we sat across from each other, the sunlight streaming in and casting a golden glow over his face.

“So,” he began, his tone playful. “What’s on your mind, Miss Y/N? Besides how devastatingly handsome I am.”

I rolled my eyes, taking a sip of my hot chocolate to hide my smile. “I was actually thinking about how certain someone managed to spill wine on my dress last night.”

His expression softened, the teasing replaced by genuine concern. “You handled that so well. I would’ve lost my cool.”

“Well,” I said, swirling my spoon in the whipped cream, “I guess I’ve had enough practice dealing with people like Tina.”

He reached across the table, resting his hand over mine. “You don’t give yourself enough credit. You are more badass than you think.”

His words warmed me more than the hot chocolate ever could. "I honestly don't know what I will do without you, Tae. I am grateful to have you in my life." I spoke out, it was the truth, I never expressed my gratefulness but now I did. I wanted him to know that I cherished him. Tae's cheeks flushed.  "I will always be here, Y/N. No matter what." My heart skept a beat. I grinned at him and brough the glass toward my lips as if to hide my blush. "So, what's the deal with your Boss tho?There seems to be tension between him and you. I didn't like how he stole you away from me last night..." I froze. My smile faltered and I cleared my throat. "He is just . . . a bit controlling, that's all." "Controlling? He is possessive of you, Y/N. His eyes are feral when he is around you." My frown deepened and I shook my head. "That's not true. I mean, he did made fun of me and my way of work but that's all. He thrives for perfection." Tae's eyes darkened, he stared at me for a minute longer, before a deep sigh escaped his lips. "I just want you to be self-aware of your surroundings, Y/N." Maybe he was right. Maybe I was too caught up between him and Yoongi to even notice what was happening. I couldn't keep this up. My feelings didn't matter, all that matters is my job and how I do it. An awkward silence stretched between me and Taehyung. We were both lost in thoughts now. Gosh, he shouldn't have mentioned Jungkook. Because with Jungkook there is also Yoongi.

After we finished our drinks, we spent the rest of the day wandering around the city. Taehyung led me to a park we used to visit back when we were teenagers. The trees were bare, their branches dusted with the season’s first frost, but the air was alive with laughter from families and couples enjoying the day.

We stopped by the frozen pond, watching as kids skated in clumsy circles. Taehyung nudged me gently with his shoulder.

“Remember the time I tried to teach you how to skate?” he asked, his eyes sparkling with mischief.

I groaned, covering my face with my hands. “Don’t remind me. I think I fell a dozen times..”

“And I caught you every single time,” he added, a proud smile on his face. He was the cutest with how he smiled, it was like stars appeared in his eyes everytime he did.

We walked on, stopping occasionally to take in the sights or to snap a picture. At one point, we found a street musician playing a soulful tune on his guitar. Taehyung pulled me to the side, bowing dramatically.

“May I have this dance?” he asked, his voice dripping with charm.

“Here? In the middle of the park?” I asked, laughing nervously.

“Why not?” He took my hand before I could protest, spinning me gently in a slow circle.

People passed by, some smiling at the sight of us, but I didn’t care. For a moment, it felt like the rest of the world had disappeared, leaving just the two of us.

By the time the sun began to set, painting the sky in shades of orange and pink, we found ourselves sitting on a bench overlooking the river. Taehyung wrapped his scarf around my neck, ignoring my protests that I was fine.

“I don’t want you catching a cold,” he said, tucking the ends neatly under my coat.

“Thanks, Dad,” I teased, but the truth was, I didn’t mind. He was caring by nature, and maybe to be cared for felt good...

As the day came to an end, I realized how much I needed this. No work, no stress, no complicated feelings about Yoongi or Jungkook—just a simple, perfect day with Taehyung..

“Still cold?” he asked, noticing my movements.

“Not really,” I admitted. “This scarf is ridiculously warm.”

He smiled, his hands shoved casually into his pockets. “It’s because it’s mine. Everything I own is top-tier.”

I nudged him with my elbow, grinning. “Oh, please. That’s the most Taehyung thing you’ve said all day.”

He laughed, the sound light and easy, and I couldn’t help but smile wider. There was something about him—his energy, his warmth—that made everything feel okay, even after the chaos of last night.

As we turned the corner onto my street, he slowed his pace.

“You know,” he began, his tone softer now, “I really enjoyed today. It’s been a while since I’ve seen you so relaxed.”

“I guess I needed it,” I replied, glancing up at him. “Just a perfect day with an old friend.”

“Old friend?” he repeated, pretending to be offended. “I’ll have you know I’m as youthful as ever. If anything, I’ve only gotten better with age.”

I rolled my eyes but couldn’t stop the laugh that escaped me. “You’re ridiculous.”

“And you love it,” he shot back, his grin widening.

I didn’t respond, but the way my cheeks warmed betrayed me.

When we reached my building, we stopped just outside the entrance. The soft hum of the city buzzed in the background as we turned to face each other.

“Well,” I said, clutching the bouquet of flowers he’d given me earlier, “thanks for today. Really.”

“Anytime,” he said, his voice gentle. “I mean it. If you ever need to escape, just call me. I’ll be there.”

For a moment, neither of us said anything. The streetlight above cast a faint glow on his face, highlighting the sincerity in his eyes.

“You’re a good friend, Tae,” I said softly, though the words felt heavier than they should have.

His smile faltered for a fraction of a second, but he recovered quickly, his expression warm and playful again. “Only a good friend? I’ll have to work on upgrading that title.”

I laughed, shaking my head. “Goodnight, Taehyung.”

“Goodnight, Y/N,” he replied, his voice low and filled with something unspoken.

I turned to unlock the door to my building, but before I could step inside, I heard him call my name.

I turned back, and there he was, standing a few feet away, his hands still in his pockets. “Don’t forget to put those flowers in water,” he said, a lopsided grin on his face.

“I won’t,” I promised, holding up the bouquet.

And with that, he turned and walked away, his figure disappearing into the quiet night. I stood there for a moment, watching him go, the warmth from the day still lingering in my chest.

As I finally stepped inside, I couldn’t help but smile to myself. Today had been perfect—simple, sweet, and exactly what I needed. 

-

The scene outside the company building was unlike anything I’d ever seen. Reporters shouted over each other, their cameras flashing relentlessly as they aimed toward the entrance. Police cars were parked haphazardly along the curb, their lights casting ominous blue and red hues against the surrounding buildings.

My heart sank as I tried to push through the crowd, clutching my bag tightly. The questions flying through the air were disjointed but enough to spark unease in my chest.

“Is it true Jeon Enterprises is under investigation?” “CEO Jeon Jungkook has yet to make a statement—” "Is there a suspect already?"

I forced myself to block out the noise, stepping up to the security guard at the entrance. My heart was thumping fast and loud in my chest. This entire atmosphere looked like a crime series. I had no idea what happened but whatever it was, it was serious.

“I work here,” I said, fumbling with my badge. My hands shook slightly, and I hated how obvious it was.

The tall bulky guard dressed in a black suit squinted at my badge, then gave me a short nod. “Go ahead.”

His words did nothing to calm me as I entered the building, the usual hum of productivity replaced by frantic whispers and hurried footsteps. Police officers roamed the lobby, speaking into radios, while employees stood in clusters, their faces pale with shock.

What on earth happened?

I hurried toward the elevator, my pulse quickening with every step. The ride up to our floor felt like an eternity, and when the doors opened, the sight made my stomach churn.

Officers were everywhere, combing through desks and confiscating files. The normally pristine office space was in disarray, papers scattered and voices raised in hushed tones.

“Y/N!”

I turned to see Rya approaching me, her expression frantic. I could see the paleness on her face, she was definitely shocked and panicked.

“What’s going on?” I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.

Rya glanced around before pulling me aside, her grip on my arm tight. “Tina... she’s dead.”

I froze, her words not registering at first. “What?”

“They found her body last night at her apartment,” Rya said, her voice shaking. “And the last person who was seen with her was Jungkook. Police came and took him with them twenty minutes ago. They treated him like a suspect!”

The air seemed to leave my lungs. My mind raced as I tried to piece together what she was saying. Tina? Dead? And Jungkook?

“No,” I said, shaking my head. “That doesn’t make any sense. Jungkook wouldn’t—”

“I know,” Rya interrupted, her voice urgent. “But the police don’t care about what we think. And the media is having a field day with it. They are also got a search order to see if they can find any clue on what happened, Jungkook's office is a raided mess. Cops took everything.”

I glanced around the chaotic office, my chest tightening. Jungkook wasn’t just my boss; he was someone I had come to respect despite our rocky start. The idea that he could be involved in something like this was incomprehensible.

Rya’s hand hovered over the remote as the reporter’s voice filled the tense air of the office.

“Breaking news this morning,” the reporter began, her tone grave. “Authorities have confirmed the discovery of a deceased individual late last night at their apartment. The victim has been identified as an employee of Jeon Enterprises and was last seen attending the high-profile masquerade ball hosted by MNT Media just days ago.”

Rya and I exchanged a glance, our breaths caught in the shared silence. The weight of the words was crushing, and my mind raced to process what I already knew.

“Last seen at the ball...” Rya whispered, her voice barely audible, but I caught the way her hands trembled as she gripped the remote.

I swallowed hard, fighting the knot forming in my throat. 

The broadcast continued, showing images of the ball—the glittering chandeliers, the elegant gowns, the masked faces. And then it switched to a live shot of an apartment building cordoned off with police tape, officers moving in and out under the glow of harsh floodlights.

“Sources close to the investigation report signs of foul play, though no official suspects have been named. Jeon Jungkook, CEO of Jeon Enterprises, has been confirmed to have been the last one who saw the victim alive, and authorities have expressed interest in speaking with him.”

“Damn it,” Rya muttered, her voice cracking slightly. 

I didn’t answer, the words sticking to the back of my throat. We both knew it was. There was no need to say it out loud.

Instead, I fixed my gaze on the screen, where the reporter was now recounting snippets. “The victim was known to be a driven and outspoken employee, with significant professional ties and ongoing disputes that may have played a role in the events leading up to their death.”

"Y/N... this is bad. Really bad. The board is already panicking, and if this gets any worse, it could take down the entire company.”

I felt like the floor was tilting beneath me, the weight of the situation pressing down on my shoulders.

“I need to find Yoongi,” I muttered, my voice steadier than I felt.

“Yoongi?” Rya frowned.

“He’ll know what to do,” I said, more to convince myself than her. “He always does.”

Without waiting for her response, I turned and started toward his office, my mind a whirlwind of fear, confusion, and determination. Whatever was happening, I needed answers—and fast.

His free hand clenched into a fist at his side. “I don’t care what strings you have to pull—just do it.”

He ended the call abruptly, exhaling sharply before he turned, noticing me standing hesitantly behind him. His expression softened slightly, though the strain in his features remained.

“It’s a mess,” he admitted, his tone heavy. “As you already know, Tina was found in her apartment late last night. She has been shot in the head.”

I swallowed hard, the reality of his words sinking in. Shot in the head? What kind of an animal would do that to her?! Surely, Tina was not one of the best people, she was selfish and her ego reached the skies, but not even once did I wish her death. “And Jungkook? Why are they linking him to this?”

Yoongi’s gaze flicked to the side, conflicted. “He was seen leaving her building around the time they estimate it happened. There’s footage from a security camera, but it doesn’t show much. Just him walking out.”

“That doesn’t mean he did anything,” I said quickly, feeling a surge of defensiveness I didn’t expect.

“I know,” Yoongi said, his voice firm. “But right now, appearances are everything. The media doesn’t care about proof—they just want a story. And Tina being...” He hesitated, his expression darkening. “Well, let’s just say she didn’t make herself any friends around here. People are talking, and not in Jungkook’s favor.”

I was trying to process everything. Tina’s death. Jungkook being questioned. The chaos in the office. It felt like the ground beneath me was shifting, and I couldn’t find my footing.

“Do you think he did it?” I asked quietly, almost afraid of his answer.

Yoongi met my gaze, his dark eyes steady. “No,” he said firmly. “I’ve known Jungkook long enough to say that he’s not capable of something like this. But whether he did or didn’t isn’t the issue right now. It’s about what people believe.”

The weight of his words settled heavily in my chest.

“What do we do?” I asked, desperate for some kind of direction.

Yoongi sighed, “For now, we wait. The lawyers are working on getting him released, but until then, we need to keep things from spiraling. The company is already under enough scrutiny.”

I nodded, though it felt like a hollow gesture. Waiting wasn’t exactly my strong suit, especially not when someone I cared about was at the center of it all.

“What about us?” I asked hesitantly. “What can I do to help?”

Yoongi’s gaze softened, and for a moment, the weight he carried seemed to lift just slightly.

“Just stay out of the crossfire, Y/N,” he said gently. “You’ve already been through enough. Let me handle this.”

I bristled slightly at his words, not because I didn’t appreciate his concern, but because I hated feeling powerless.

“Yoongi,” I said firmly, standing. “I’m not going to sit on the sidelines while everything falls apart. If there’s anything I can do—anything—just tell me.”

He studied me for a long moment, his expression unreadable, before he finally nodded.

After leaving Yoongi’s office, I couldn’t shake the weight pressing down on me. Tina’s death had sent shockwaves through the entire company, and though I’d never liked her—she’d been awful to me more times than I could count—this wasn’t what she deserved.

The thought of her lifeless and alone in her apartment was too much. No matter how cruel she’d been, she was still a person, someone with her own struggles and stories I’d never known. She was still someone's daughter, sister, cousin. . .

I needed to talk to someone.

I found Hoseok and Rya in the break room, sitting at one of the tables near the window. Both of them looked tense, their earlier easy smiles replaced with furrowed brows and quiet whispers.

“Hey,” I said softly as I approached. They looked up, and Rya immediately slid over to make room for me.

“Y/N,” Hoseok said, his tone heavy. “How are you holding up?”

I sat down, clasping my hands together to stop them from trembling. “I’m not sure,” I admitted. “This whole thing with Tina... it doesn’t feel real. I know we didn’t get along, but...” I trailed off, unsure how to put the jumble of emotions into words.

“She was a nightmare,” Rya said bluntly, though her voice lacked its usual bite. “But I never thought... this. I mean, she could be petty and cruel, but murder?”

Hoseok frowned, leaning forward. “Nobody deserves that,” he said quietly. “Not even Tina. She could be terrible, sure, but she was still a person.”

The room fell silent for a moment, the three of us lost in our own thoughts.

“I keep thinking about the last time I saw her,” I said, my voice barely above a whisper. “At the ball. She seemed so... smug. Like she was on top of the world. And now, she’s gone.”

Rya crossed her arms, looking conflicted. “Do you think someone here could’ve done it? I mean, everyone knew she had enemies, but this is... extreme.”

Hoseok shook his head. “I don’t want to believe it, but with the police here, searching the office...” He trailed off, his expression darkening. “It’s hard not to wonder.”

“And Jungkook?” Rya asked, looking at me. “Do you think he’s involved?”

“No,” I said firmly, surprising even myself with the conviction in my voice. “I don’t. He might be cold and distant sometimes, but he’s not a killer. He’s... he’s better than that.”

Hoseok and Rya exchanged a glance, but neither argued.

“What happens now?” Rya asked after a moment. “If Jungkook is being investigated, what does that mean for the company? For us?”

I shook my head, feeling the weight of uncertainty settle over me again. “I don’t know,” I admitted. “But I think we need to stick together. Now more than ever.”

They both nodded, and for the first time in a long while, I felt a glimmer of solidarity between us.

As the three of us sat there, piecing together what little we knew, I couldn’t help but feel that this was just the beginning of something much bigger—and much darker—than any of us could imagine.

-

The morning was gray and oppressive, the atmosphere at Jeon Enterprises thick with unease. I was called to help clear out Tina’s desk under police supervision, a task I didn’t relish but couldn’t refuse. The sight of her empty chair sent a chill through me. Tina had been vile, no doubt about it, but to think she was gone—and in such a horrific way—made my stomach turn.

The desk was surprisingly tidy for someone as chaotic as Tina. Neat stacks of papers, pristine stationery, and a drawer full of color-coded folders. Yet as I sifted through the surface level, something felt off. It was too perfect, almost staged.

A detective stood nearby, arms crossed as he observed. “Anything that seems unusual, set it aside,” he said flatly.

Unusual? Where did I even start? Tina herself was a cocktail of ambition and cruelty, a persona that could fill a thousand file folders with secrets. As I reached into the bottom drawer, my fingers brushed against something that didn’t feel like an office supply. It was wedged under a stack of legal pads—a worn, leather-bound journal.

I glanced at the detective, who was momentarily distracted by another officer. With a quick, furtive motion, I slipped the journal into my bag. I told myself I’d hand it over eventually, but something about it called to me. A gut feeling. Tina had gone out of her way to hide this. Why?

Once I got home that evening, I pulled the journal out and set it on my kitchen table. The leather was cracked and faded, the corners worn down like it had been carried around for years. When I opened it, the faint scent of Tina’s signature perfume wafted up, mingled with something darker—ink and secrecy.

The first few pages were mundane. Meeting notes, to-do lists, sketches of presentation layouts. But as I flipped further, the tone shifted. The handwriting became erratic, the words slanting across the page with a kind of manic energy.

November 3: Another meeting with K. Promises, promises. Does he think I’m stupid? I’ll take what’s mine before he screws me over.

November 12: Y/N is such a naive little thing. Too easy to push around. If only she knew how far out of her depth she is. Pathetic.

I recoiled at the venom in her words. My name was scrawled there like a curse, surrounded by complaints about nearly everyone in the office. Tina hadn’t just disliked people—she’d despised them.

And then there were the cryptic entries:

December 1: The deal is in place. If K tries to back out, he’ll regret it.

December 15: I’m not playing games anymore. If they think they can silence me, they’re dead wrong.

The entries stopped abruptly a week before her death. My fingers trembled as I turned the pages, my heart pounding in my chest. Who was “K”? What deal? And what had Tina meant by “silence”?

Before I could dive further, my phone buzzed. The name on the screen made my blood run cold: Richard Delgrassi. My father’s old associate. 

“Mr. Delgrassi? How did you find my number?” I said cautiously, picking up the call.

“I called your father, wanted to check up on you.” his voice was smooth, but there was an edge to it, like a blade sheathed in silk. “Are you okay? I heard about your co-worker Tina.”

I swallowed thickly, deep sigh escaped my lips. "I am fine, sir. It just . . . shocked us all."

“I am really sorry to hear that, if you need anything, please let me know. If you want to leave the company and start somewhere fresh, I will help you out." Leave. Why would I want to leave? I hummed. "Of course, sir, I will let you know." I heard him shuffle on the other side of the line. "What about Jungkook, I heard he is at the police station for questioning." I started pacing back and forth, "Well, right now we don't have much information on what happens next, but hopefully police would release him soon." "I hope so too." he spoke but something in his voice didn't feel sincere. "Alright, I just wanted to check up on you. Know you have someone you can count on." "Thank you, sir..."

The line went dead before I could ask anything else. I stared at the phone, my heart hammering in my chest. 

I glanced back at the journal, its leather cover now looking more sinister than mysterious. Whatever Tina had been involved in, it wasn’t just office politics. It was something far darker, and I was smack in the middle of it.

-

I could feel my heart pounding in my chest as I stood in front of the police station, staring at the cold, gray walls. It didn’t feel real—none of it did. My mind kept replaying the moment I heard the news: Tina, my manager, was dead. Murdered. And Jungkook, the CEO of the company I’d worked for, was the prime suspect unofficially.

The shock of it had hit me hard. Tina’s death had left a void in our office, and the fact that Jungkook, the man I already thought I knew so well, was now behind bars... it shattered everything.

I took a deep breath before walking through the sterile halls of the station. The fluorescent lights buzzed above me, making the air feel thick and oppressive. I passed the front desk, where the officers barely acknowledged me and suddenly bumped into someone.

The impact jolted me slightly, and I looked up to find Yoongi standing there, his dark eyes sharp and unreadable as ever. He sighed heavily, as if seeing me here was the last thing he needed.

“What the hell are you doing here, Y/N?” he asked, his tone low but laced with irritation.

I straightened my posture, refusing to let him intimidate me. “What does it look like I’m doing? I’m here to see Jungkook.”

Yoongi crossed his arms, his expression hardening. “You shouldn’t be here. This isn’t your fight, and it’s definitely not safe.”

“Not safe?” I scoffed, keeping my voice low so the officers milling about wouldn’t overhear. “I work at the same company, Yoongi. Tina was my manager too, in case you forgot. This affects all of us, not just you.”

He leaned in slightly, lowering his voice. “That’s exactly why you need to stay out of it. Let the police handle this. Do you even realize how messy this is going to get?”

I glared at him, my frustration boiling over. “Messy or not, I have a right to know what’s going on. Jungkook isn’t just some random CEO. He’s—”

“He’s what?” Yoongi cut in, his tone sharp. “Your boss? Your friend? Someone you think you can trust? Newsflash, Y/N: trust doesn’t mean a damn thing right now.”

I felt the sting of his words but refused to back down. “You’re unbelievable,” I shot back. “You act like you’re the only one allowed to care about what’s happening.”

Yoongi ran a hand through his messy long hair, his jaw tight. I could notice he has been sleep deprived too, the dark circles under his eyes screamed tiredness. “I care because I know what’s at stake. And you showing up here, trying to play detective, is only going to make things worse.”

I stepped closer, narrowing the gap between us. “Then why are you here, Yoongi? If you think it’s so dangerous, why aren’t you staying out of it?”

His lips pressed into a thin line, and for a moment, he didn’t answer. I saw his eyes darken and he took a sharp breath through his nose, hands now resting on his hips. "Fucking hell, why are you so stubborn?" "Maybe I am good at annoying the hell out of you." His eyes narrowed but he didn't say anything. There was a silence stretching between us before he finally turned around and headed down the hallway.

“Fine,” he muttered over his shoulder. “If you’re so hell-bent on getting involved, follow me. But don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

We made our way to the interrogation room, where Jungkook was being held. My heart felt like it was lodged in my throat as we approached the small, glass-walled room. Jungkook sat inside, his hands folded on the metal table in front of him. He looked tired, his usually sharp features drawn and pale.

The officer standing outside the door nodded at Yoongi, allowing us in. I hesitated for a moment before stepping inside, the air thick with tension.

Jungkook glanced up, his dark eyes meeting mine briefly before shifting to Yoongi.

“Didn’t expect visitors,” he said, his voice low and rough.

Yoongi pulled out a chair and sat down, his posture relaxed but his eyes sharp. “We’re not here to chat. What’s going on, Jungkook?”

Jungkook leaned back in his chair, his gaze flickering between the two of us. “You tell me. One minute, I’m at the office; the next, I’m hauled in here like a criminal.”

“Did you know Tina was dead?” I asked, my voice trembling slightly despite my best efforts to stay composed.

His jaw tightened, and for a moment, he didn’t answer. “I didn’t kill her, if that’s what you’re asking.”

“Then why are you here?” Yoongi pressed, his tone firm.

Jungkook let out a bitter laugh. “Because someone saw me with her at the ball, and apparently, that’s enough to make me the prime suspect. Never mind that half the company was there."

I glanced at Yoongi, who didn’t break his stare. “And what about Tina? Did she say anything to you that night? Act strange? Mention something... off?”

Jungkook’s expression darkened. “She didn’t say much of anything to me. She was too busy playing her games, like always. I told everything to the police but they still keep me in this godforsaken hole.”

“Games?” I asked, leaning forward.

“Y/N, you know fully well how she was,” Jungkook said, his voice bitter. “Testing people's limits, making sure everyone knew she had the upper hand. But I didn’t play along, and maybe that pissed her off. Who knows?”

Yoongi tapped his fingers against the table, his gaze never leaving Jungkook. “You need to give us more than that. If you want us to help you, we need something concrete.”

Jungkook’s eyebrow raised, he was shifting his eyes from me and Yoongi. I looked away, avoiding his gaze. “Help me? Since when are you two playing detectives?”

I rolled my eyes. "We are trying to help you out." I snapped and Jungkook shifted in his seat, letting out a deep sigh of defeat.

The tension in the room thickened, and I felt a pang of guilt watching Jungkook sitting there, defiant but vulnerable. I glanced at Yoongi, his steely demeanor unwavering as he leaned back in his chair, arms crossed.

"Do you know for how long you will be captive here?" I finally asked. Jungkook shrugged. "No idea, until they find an evidence that the killer was not me." "What happens to the comapny now?" I pressed, "is it gonna shut down?" "I will take over." Yoongi muttered, "for the time being, until Jungkook gets released." I frowned glancing at Jungkook who hummed, I guess they managed to talk this through.  "Fine, we will keep digging and see what we will find."  "We?" My Boss frowned, "Y/N, I don't want you to get involved in this." "See?!Told her the same thingg, she doesn't listen." "Stop blabbing about the same things, I want in and I want to help. You two, adult men, act like kids. Jungkook, your situation here is not colorful at all. The quicker we get you out, the quick it would be your name to be cleared in front of the media." -

The sharp chill of the late evening air greeted us as we stepped out of the police station. I pulled my coat tighter around myself, my mind still racing with everything that had just transpired. Jungkook’s face, a mixture of frustration and vulnerability, was etched in my memory.

“I’ll call a cab,” I muttered, fishing my phone out of my bag.

Yoongi raised an eyebrow, stepping toward the parking lot. “Don’t bother. I’ll drive you.”

I stopped mid-dial and turned to him. “No offense, but I don’t think that’s a great idea.”

His expression didn’t change, but there was an edge of impatience in his voice. “Why? Because I’m not the most charming chauffeur? Or are you still mad at me for that club thing-y?”

“Neither,” I said quickly, my tone defensive. “It’s just... I don’t need you to babysit me, Yoongi. I can take care of myself.”

“Clearly,” he said dryly, gesturing to my phone. “And you’ll do that by waiting alone outside a police station at night for a cab? Genius plan.”

I opened my mouth to argue but stopped when I realized how ridiculous it would sound. With a resigned sigh, I slid my phone back into my bag. “Fine. But no commentary while you drive.”

“Deal,” he said with a small smirk, leading the way to his car.

The ride started in silence, the hum of the engine the only sound between us. Yoongi’s driving was calm and efficient, and for some reason, it annoyed me that he didn’t seem as rattled by everything as I was.

“Yesterday,” I began, breaking the silence, “when I was cleaning out Tina’s desk... I found something.”

He glanced at me briefly before returning his eyes to the road. “The journal.”

I blinked, surprised. “How did you—”

"Do you think I am that stupid?"  There was silence, he narrowed his eyes, "don't even answer this, Y/N." I chuckled at that and shrugged my shoulders. "I saw you take a suspicious looking book off Tina's desk without the police looking so..." "I figured that it's better to find who did it first with a solid evidence, before turning it to the police." I hesitated but continued, “It’s... disturbing. Tina wrote about people she hated—colleagues, clients, even... me.”

Yoongi didn’t react visibly, but I caught his fingers tightening slightly on the steering wheel.

“She was ruthless,” I continued. “Manipulating people, sabotaging careers—it’s all in there. And then there are these cryptic entries about a ‘deal.’ She doesn’t say who it was with, but it’s obvious it was risky. She mentioned being scared, like she knew it might backfire.”

Yoongi’s jaw clenched. “And now she’s dead.”

I swallowed hard, the reality of it hitting me again. “Yeah. And I don’t think it’s a coincidence. Someone she crossed or someone involved in that deal... they might have wanted her gone.”

“You said the police don’t know about it yet?” he asked, his voice tense.

“No,” I admitted. “I didn’t trust them to handle it the right way, especially with the way they’re already treating Jungkook.”

“Smart,” Yoongi said, nodding approvingly. “But if that journal is as explosive as you say, keeping it quiet might put you in danger.”

I bit my lip, anxiety bubbling in my chest. “I know. But what choice do I have? If it can help clear Jungkook’s name, I can’t just ignore it.”

Yoongi pulled into a quieter street, the streetlights casting long shadows over the car. He turned to me, his dark eyes serious. “You’re not doing this alone, Y/N. Whatever’s in that journal, we’re going to figure it out together.”

For a moment, his words surprised me. Despite his often aloof demeanor, there was an unexpected warmth in his voice.

“Thank you,” I said quietly, meaning it.

He nodded once and turned his attention back to the road, the rest of the drive passing in contemplative silence.

When we finally reached my place, he parked at the curb and leaned back in his seat. “Keep the journal close. Don’t let anyone else see it for now.”

“I won’t,” I assured him, opening the door.

As I stepped out, he called after me, “And Y/N?”

I paused, turning back.

“Be careful,” he said, his expression unreadable in the dim light.

I nodded, clutching my bag tightly as I headed up to my apartment, the weight of the journal—and everything it represented—feeling heavier than ever.

[franthelesbian]

Lmao what would the Oz version of the “Am I Gay” quiz be? Imagine Glinda, running in a panic to the local, I don’t know, pamphlet store. Then she’s gotta hush hush find the right paper with the quiz but is too embarrassed to buy it, so she secretly pockets it instead. Then we hide it under our mattress until the dead of night and take the quiz. And the questions are like:

“When someone asks you who you’re crushing on - who do you think of?” Elpha…no Fiyero. Yes definitley Fiyero and only Fiyero. Though guess I’ll mark this one yes since I did think of Elphie first…

“Do you have intense physical reactions when you see your crush?” Well, my pulse does rush and my face does flush when I see Elphie…

“Have you ever kissed someone of the same gender?” Yes - but everyone has right? We were just “practicing”…right?

So then you sum it all up, and it says yep you’re a great big lesbian 🌈 have a nice day

So you now you HAVE to wake up your situationship roommate to share the news. And of course Elphaba notices all this because Glinda is not sly, not at all. You saw Glinda run into the gay pamphlet store earlier and she was just reading all the quiz questions out loud in a dramatic stage whisper, so you just smile to yourself and wait to see what happens. But now she wakes you up, so you share that you’re queer too, and then you kiss.

And that’s it and yep that’s what happened in Wicked: Part I. I will not be taking comments at this time.

[hazbinshusk]

Blitz who knows nothing about how humans celebrate sinmas (christmas) and a yn human with patience explains everything to him? (I have a feeling Blitz will act like the grinch) BTW sorry for my bad English

turned this one into a kiss prompt because it fit so well, and I hope you like it :) this was incredibly sweet to write, and if y'all are interested in setting a mood with it, once they're on earth the reader notices the sound of frank sinatra's have yourself a merry little christmas playing, so if you'd like a backing track while you read, that would be my recommendation :)

merry christmas everyone, thank you so much for reading!

prompt #1: a kiss on the cheek

You start slightly as Blitzø swings himself over the back of the couch to land on the cushion beside you, somehow miraculously managing to avoid spilling his drink in the process. He settles back against the pillows, leaning close enough to be heard over the sounds of music and merriment filling his apartment. Loona’s friends have started a game you don’t quite understand, and you can hear Millie gossiping happily away with her sister in the kitchen. Blitzø presses a bottle of Glut-Honey into your hand, and you turn your head to smile at him gratefully.

“Soooo… you pick a sin to celebrate yet?” Blitzø asks, twisting the top off his own bottle. “‘Cause I have some thoughts about which one you should pick.”

You hum a quiet laugh, rolling the chilled bottle back and forth between your fingers, the bottom of it leaving tracks of condensations against your thigh. “I bet you do.”

Blitzø’s brow creases at your tone, and he shifts to face you better. “You’re not, uh… you’re not enjoyin’ this, are you?”

“What?” you straighten in your seat, surprised by the insight. “No! I mean, I am, I just—”

Blitzø ducks his head to better meet your eye, raising a brow. He smiles, but there’s still concern in his eyes. “You can just say it, peach. I ain’t gonna be offended.”

You sigh, shrugging a shoulder apologetically. “Sorry, I’m just adjusting. Thank you for inviting me, it’s just… parts of this feel really familiar, but it’s not… what I’m used to. The déjà vu is throwing me a bit.”

“…This is your first Sinsmas since you…?”

“Ate the big one?” you suggested, and Blitzø breathes a laugh. “Yeah. Christmas was always… I miss it, I guess.”

The imp beside you frowns as he takes your words in. Then, he lifts the bottle back out of your hands and places both your drinks of the coffee table in front of you. Standing, Blitzø stretches out a kink in his lower back before he offers you a hand. “Alright then, let’s go.”

“Go?” you repeat, confused but admittedly charmed by the gesture, the look on his face. You raise a brow questioning but take his hand all the same, and Blitzø pulls you up off the couch until you’re standing in front of him, a few sparse inches between the two of you. Warmth blooms in your cheeks as your eyes meet his, and you clear your throat against the sudden fluttering in your belly. “Go where?”

Blitzø blinks, then he darts down to rummage under the couch. He pulls out one of his gloves, the Asmodean crystal catching the warm light of his apartment to gleam like liquid amber. The glove doesn’t work with his Sinsmas sweater at all, but he doesn’t seem to notice or mind.

“Up top,” he explains casually, sliding a few fingers expertly over the gem’s surface. A portal opens up beside you, a gust of frigid air curling around the two of you. You shiver, and Blitz grabs hold of your hand with his gloveless one, curling his fingers around yours. His hand is warm, surprisingly soft, and you meet Loona’s eye as she looks up at the sudden temperature change. A smirk touches the edge of her lips as she looks at the two of you, but Blitzø doesn’t seem to notice. “You can show me what we’re missin’ down here. C’mon.”

Your chest warms at the offer, at the feeling of his hand still curled around yours. “Blitz, you don’t need to—”

“Be back soon, Loony!” he calls out as he tugs your through the portal. “Mox! I better not hear any shitty show tunes when I get back!”

“They’re not—”

You manage to snag the blanket off the back of the couch just before Blitzø pulls you through the portal and out into the snow.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

“So, once a year, some fat guy breaks into every house on the planet overnight, and instead of stealin’ everything he can get his sweaty hands on, he leaves stuff for you humans?” Blitzø asks disbelievingly, arms wrapped tightly around himself against the cold. You wrap the blanket around the both of you as soon as you sit down, and he exhales a sigh, relaxing his posture under the weight of it. “That is the stupidest shit I’ve ever heard.”

You laugh, watching your breath cloud above the two of you, dissipating into the night sky. The two of you are seated on the roof of a house, in some suburb of some city somewhere in the world. Multicoloured lights dance around the two of you, lining every inch of the rooftop, hopefully obscuring the sight of the hellish figures that are an imp and a sinner to those below. Beneath you families enjoy the late snowfall, bundled up far better than either of you. Children’s laughter wafts up towards you, accompanied by catcalls and taunts and the dull thumps of snowballs meeting their targets. You can hear Christmas carols coming from a house down the street, a mother calling out with offers of hot chocolate and warm cider. You smile as you watch a dog run haphazardly around the kids, barking in delight as it tries to join the game.

“And he does this shit for free?”

“I mean… he gets milk and cookies,” you say with a shrug, and Blitzø scoffs, shaking his head. “Did I mention he’s able to do that because he rides in a magical sleigh pulled by flying reindeer?”

“Fuck off!”

“And one of them has a red nose that lights up so he can see in storms.”

Blitzø snorts a laugh. “How do you people come up with this shit?”

“I have no idea,” you admit, amused. You can feel him shivering beside you, and you tug the blanket further around the two of you. Blitzø shuffles closer, tucking himself up against your side. His shoulder bumps against yours, his thigh pressed against the length of your own. You’d worn a sweat, skirt and tights to his party – a perfectly acceptable outfit for an indoor event – but despite the chill clinging to your cheeks, you can feel some of his warmth seeping into your thigh, your hip. “But it’s mostly a way for parents to blackmail their kids into being good all year.”

“That’s… kinda fuckin’ evil,” Blitzø sounds genuinely impressed, and you laugh.

“Yeah, it kinda is.”

“What happens if they don’t?” he asks, and you can see genuine curiosity in the softness of his expression. He watches the world around the two of you with an almost childlike interest, and when he turns his attention back to you, that softness remains. It sets something aflutter in side you, and when you exhale, your breath leaves you shakily in a way that has nothing to do with the cold. “Ooh, is that how that fat fuck gets all those creepy soundin’ elves in his sweatshop?”

“It’s not a—” you roll your eyes, shaking your head. “No! Of course not. He gives them coal.”

Blitzø stares at you for a long moment, brow furrowing in confusion. “…The fuck is wrong with coal?”

You smile, reaching over to brush snowflakes from where they were clinging to his chest. Blitzø’s gaze drops to watch the motion, and you swear colour flushes in his cheeks. “It’s not exactly a delicacy for humans the way it is for imps, Blitz.”

“Humans are fuckin’ weird,” he says simply.

“Yeah, they are.” you agree, watching the neighbourhood below you fondly.

The two of you fall into a kind of comfortable silence, lulled by the soft crooning of what sounds like Sinatra’s Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas that’s still wafting out from the house down the street. You feel Blitzø’s tail wind itself around your calf slowly, the spade of it tucking itself into the warmth of your wool-lined boots. It’s freezing against your ankle, and you reach over instinctively to wrap your hand around his. It closes around his ungloved hand, the skin almost icy under your touch, and you’re surprised when he moves his hand from the relative warmth of his lap to instead turn it over and interlace his fingers with yours.

 You smile to yourself and, after a moment’s hesitation, lean over to brush your lips over his cheek. “Thank you for this, Blitz.”

Blitzø looks surprised, and he turns to face you with wide eyes. The coloured lights of the Christmas decorations set his features aglow with reds and blues and greens, shadows dancing across his cheeks, the lines of his scars. Then he smiles, and its so soft that it seems to warm you down to your very core. Blitzø’s fingers tighten on yours, as does his tail on your leg, and you feel your cheeks – already pink with the cold – flush deeper. His gaze flickers lower for a moment before returning to meet your eyes again.

“You’re welcome, peach,” he replies, turning his attention back to the street before you. “It is kinda nice up here. Even if I am freezing my fuckin’ horns off.”

You laugh sympathetically, tugging your hand from his so you can push yourself back up to your feet. “We should go. The others will be wondering where we are.”

Blitzø catches hold of your hand again, pulling you back down beside him. You almost slip on the icy shingles, caught off guard.

“Nah. Looney’ll be keepin’ them entertained.” he says with a shrug, leaning into your side as you settle back down beside him. He draws the blanket back around you both, your hand still wrapped in his. You feel his thumb brush against the back of your hand. “We’ve got time.”

You smile, letting your head rest against the curve of his horn. You hear him exhale softly as you do. “Merry Sinsmas, Blitz.”

“Merry Christmas, peach,” he replies, letting the moment of silence stretch out between the both of you.

Then,

“Who the fuck is ‘Chris’, anyway?”

send me a prompt and either husk or blitzø

[aboutchriss]

walk with me

Pairing: idol!BangChan x fem! reader

Genre: fluff

Warnings: chan being a cutie patootie with berry, reader is 22

Author notes: idk, okay?. i'm bored trying to avoid my relatives that are here for the chirstams holidays...please save me...i wrote this to...escape from this house, i hope you appreciate it. i'll probably do a part 2, it's 2:30 a.m here so yeah, and of course it's not proof read! (i'll read it tomorrow) oh and wear sunscreen my kids!!

💌

remember! english it's not my first language, please be gentle with me! let me know if there's any mistastake

💌

requests are open, especially on Christmas!

It's the perfect day in Sydney; the temperature is on point—not too cold, not too hot. It's the right temperature to wear a sundress and a little jumper that you probably won't use because you want to tan before the holidays, even if you want to tan though, you put sunscreen on and lay down on a beach towel in a public park, the grass is green and you can hear kids screaming and laughing while they're playing with a grasshopper and insects, you have a book inside your purse, and cold tea, it's a daydream.

As you lay on the grass, something warm and wet touches your cheek—once, twice. When you open your eyes, you find a small, maybe a little fat dog with a smile on it's face (yes, dogs can smile). You sit down, looking around to find the dog's owner, and there he is the most beautiful, gorgeous man you have ever seen in your entire existence, is it possible? Are you having a heat stroke? He has dark brown curls, the kind of curls you can touch until you fall asleep, he's trying to hide a smile but you can see dimples on his cheeks, he has broad shoulders and big hands, and he looks like a damn Disney prince, are you daydreaming? What the fuck it's happening? "I am so sorry miss" He says in a muffled laugh

did he just called me miss, how old is he? 44? no, that's not possible, he's too beautiful to be this old

"oh, no worries -you giggle- i don't mind kisses from a gorgeous dog like her? are you a she or a he mh?" you say, now talking to the dog that is laying comortably on your lap

"oh uhm, she is right, her name it's berry" he says touching his ear

"Berry huh? what a pretty name" you rub her hear

"well i guess she's comfy there, 'm sorry, she's old and when she lays down somewhere well...umh - he touches the nape of his neck- she stays there for a while" he says looking right into your eyes

"oh, no worries...if you're free we can wait till she gets up" you say patting the place next to you on the beach towel

he smiles and you can finally see his dimples, and boom we're so fucked up y/n.

"your mom didn't teach you to not talk to strangers? i might be a serial killer" he says sitting down next to you

"what about your mom? -you echo- maybe i'm the serial killer" you smile at him

"touchè" he laughs

"i'm Christopher by the way, you can call me Chris or Chan" he says offering his hand

a veiny and big hand

"i'm y/n - you grab his hand and shake it- nice to meet you Christopher" he laughs

"are you from Sydney?" he asks caressing Berry that is still sleeping on your lap

"oh no, i work here, nothing more, what about you?" you say

"I was born and raised here, but i work in Korea, i'm here for the christmas holidays" he explains (not that you can hear something since your too focused on his thick lips, thanks god you're wearing sunglasses)

"Korea mh? and what do you do? CEO in a company? Actor? or you cook kimchi for stray cats?" you ask caressing Berry

he laughs and it feels like the sun just exploded

"I- uh- i'm an idol, nothing special" he shrugs

"an idol?" you echo

"mhmm, i have a group and we sing and dance and stuff like that" he says smiling

oh this dude really loves his job

"stuff like that mh? and are you famous?" you ask caressing Berry's head

"what about you? what do you do?" he asks

"uuuh, you're avoiding the question...is that a yes? you're famous! -you giggle" you say

"shhhh, i'm not, i promise i'm not that famous" he says

"oh...okay..." you look at him trying to see his eyes through his sun glasses

"so...what do you do?" he asks again, caressing Berry's head

"i-uh i work in a library, i own it actually...it's not interesting" you say

"so you read a lot?" he asks

"i do, actually" you say smiling

"and what's your favorite genre?" he asks caressing Berry's body, his fingers brushing against your thigh

"i-do you want the real answer or?" you giggle

"of course i do!"

"smut"

"smut?" he echos

"yes, porn in books, smut, call it how you prefer" you say shrugging

"interesting" he nods

"do you want to grab a coffee with me?" he suddenly asks

"mh? you want to grab a coffee with me?" you ask

"yeah, with you and well berry, even if she might be the third wheel" he giggles

"okay"

"you don't have to if you don't want to, i just asked because you're really cute and yeah i want to know you better" he spits out in one breath

"Christopher i said okay, let's go. I need to know more about your job and i won't leave Berry 'till you make me listen one of your songs, but before we go can i put sunscreen on your face? you burnt your nose" you try not to laugh

"oh? really?" he touches his nose

"mhmm -you nod- may i?" you asked

"sure, go on" he says lifting up his sunglasses

"tell me if i hurt you okay?" you say as you squeeze sunscreen on the tips of your fingers, putting it on his nose in the most delicate way possible

"you're kind you know?"

"i know" you smile

"i feel like a kid...wait i -he grab your hands gently- how old are you?" he asks

"old enough Christopher, don't worry" you smile

"i'm serious how old are you?" he asks

"i'm 22, and you?"

"i'm 27" he sighs and let go of your hands

"damn, what a sigh" you giggle

"i feel like a grandpa" he says

"you're not a grandpa Christopher, not with this body"

"oh-...thanks" he says is it the sun or is he blushing?

"okay, let's go, and by the way, you can't threat me with my dog" he says, getting up, grabbing berry from your lap and offering his hand to you

"what a gentleman! and that wasn't a threat, i just want to...listen to what you do okay?" you say grabbing his hand to get up and fuck he's also tall, and bigger than you expected

"of course i'm a gentleman. and yes, she's my baby, i would do anything for her, even embarassing my self in front of the most beautiful woman in this park with my songs" he says looking at you

"oh-" he giggles

is he flirting?

"come on, i know a good place for a coffee and maybe lunch?" he asks

"i'm right behind you" yeah right behind you staring at your fifty pounds of ass

"you know that my eyes are up here right?" fuck

"no, yeah i know, i was looking for my...purse...yeah my purse"

"liar" he says laughing and you push his back

"shut the fuck up, you've been staring at my boobs the whole time!" you say and he turns around to look at you

"i-did not- okay maybe a little okay? wait...you can see my eyes through the sunglasses" he asks looking down at you

"i do...you can see mine?" you ask

"i do"

"good than we're both idiots"

"maybe a little" he giggles

"come on, let's go we have a 10 minutes walk and berry is heavy"

"ugh, big arms for nothing" you mumble

"i could pick you up with one hand and throw you around if i wanted too" he says walking straight, he and his stupid fucking aura

"damn okay, sorry"

-

ten minutes later you're at the cafe, it's cute and cozy and the sandwiches on display looks yummy, and the man in front of you looks yummy; he took off his sunglasses now and you can finally see his eyes in a decent light, simply brown boba eyes, and you can clearly tell that he is a good man just by looking at his eyes. his eyes are also eating you alive, but again this is another story.

[sinnabarmoth]

Tribute for the Dragon (8/18)

Pairing: Dragon|Sylus x Fem|Reader

Summary: Sylus takes you to witness a dragon celebration and things take a rather fiery turn.

Content Warnings: Adult language. Thigh riding.

Length: 3k

Chapters: (1) (2) (3) (4) (5) (6) (7) (9)

Read on AO3

Life in the mountain was different.

You hadn’t noticed it at first but things were different. Ever since you and Sylus actively started getting to know one another the mountain felt more homey. You weren’t just a servant wandering these halls, both mystified and turned on by the dragon you served. He had become a friend.

Things had never gotten as personal as they did the day he told you about what life was like for him growing up. It had been a lot for him to admit, even under the initial guise of a draconic folktale. He never mentioned it again and you didn’t pry. But you were glad.

Your dragon was someone you knew. Questions you had no longer had to be filled with your imaginings. When wanted to know something about him, he just told you.

You were happy and you felt trusted.

You had noticed a shift in Sylus too. It was more subtle but he was around more. He went out of his way to seek you out and talk to you throughout the day. He was gentler, not as aloof. He still teased you but it felt more like a joke between the two of you instead of him trying to antagonize you.

You also just had fun together now. When you were bored you’d go to the hoard room and make towers out of the gold coins and jewels for fun. You taught him human card games and even tried to teach him human dances too. You quickly realized that dragons were not the most graceful of creatures when not flying.

“It’s really not that hard. Try again.” you held him at arm’s length as you tried to get him to copy your moves. “Out and in and your arm goes up and I duck under. One and two and three and four.”

You tried to do the move but again Sylus twisted the wrong way when you ducked under. “Are you purposefully getting this wrong to spite me?”

“I would never.” he settled his hands on his hips. “I just don’t understand how I am supposed to angle my body so that it doesn’t end up twisted.”

“I keep telling you, just arc backwards, follow the movement the way it flows. You’re the one that’s supposed to be leading, I follow you, you don’t follow me.”

“Why are we learning this again?” he asked.

“For something to do.” you shrugged. “I grew up doing this dance every year at the village festivals. My father would always take me out onto the dance floor when I was little and then when I got older and I could have other partners, I always made sure to save a dance with him. Dancing was always my favorite part of the festivals.”

“Your festivals sound like they are more fun than dragon celebrations.”

“Really? I would have guessed that a dragon party would be far more interesting than a human festival. I mean, what do a bunch of dragons do at a dragon celebration? Food? Games? Dancing?”

“Food definitely. Games, maybe. Dancing, never.”

“So what do you do?”

“Depends on what the celebration is about.” Sylus thought for a moment. “Actually, there is one that should be starting soon.”

“Really?”

“Yes. We cannot exactly attend but we may still watch the events from a distance.”

“That doesn’t sound like so much fun.”

“It might not be. But I thought perhaps you’d like to witness a little about dragon culture.”

“I would. You’ve piqued my curiosity. When is this celebration?”

“Three days I believe, during the half moon. Shouldn’t take more than a couple hours by flight.”

“What do you mean flight?”

~~~

“This is the best thing ever!” you shrieked with glee as Sylus and you soared through the warm summer air. Sylus had you wrapped tight in his arms as he flew. The wind stung your face but you couldn’t stop beaming.

“That was right in my ear, little bird.” Sylus said. “I know you’re excited but I’d still like to be able to hear.”

“Sorry.” you knew that it was easiest for him to fly when you were still but you were just so excited all you wanted to do was bounce around. “I cannot believe that I’m really flying!”

“It’s very freeing, isn’t it?”

“It’s amazing!” you clung tighter onto his neck. “I wish I could fly myself. It must be annoying that you have to carry me.”

“I don’t mind. Just try to keep still, we have a long flight ahead of us until we get to the shore.” He reminded you. It took a couple of hours of straight flying but eventually you saw the blue of the ocean in the distance. The only time you had been to the ocean before was when you were very small and you didn’t remember much of anything. It was still impossibly big, even from a distance.

Sylus touched down on a high cliff about a mile from the beach. “Why don’t we go down?” you asked. “I’d love to get my feet in the sand.”

“Not today. This is dragon land and this is a very important tradition that is happening today and I’m afraid if they smell a human has been tromping around down there, we may get in some trouble.”

“And being on the cliff is better?”

“We’re downwind, also, what is most important is the sand. They should not care that we’re up here so long as we don’t touch the sand.”

“The sand? What’s so special about the sand?”

“You’ll see. Now, how about we have some of the food you packed.”

You slung the pack off your shoulder and opened it up. Inside was a blanket, a large skin of water, and a lot of food you had wrapped tightly in paper to avoid leaking all over the pack. You knew Sylus needed a lot of food and after such a long flight he was bound to be ravenous. You laid out the blanket over the grass and sat down to eat.

Even if you couldn’t go on the beach it was nice to be by the ocean. The salty sea air blew across your skin and the sun warmed your face. You watched as the waves rolled and crashed down below. It was so peaceful.

The peace was abruptly broken when a deafening roar echoed across the air. You had immediately scrambled next to Sylus, searching the sky for what had made such a noise. Sylus chuckled and pointed out in the distance where a swarm of dots in the distance were growing larger and larger. “Are those all dragons?”

“Yes. Now is when we have to be quiet and keep our heads low. They shouldn’t know that we are up here but I’d rather not risk it.” he wrapped an arm around your shoulders, “Stay close to me, it’ll help mask your scent.”

You huddled close and watched as dragons landed on the beach. They were beautiful and frightening. They came in many shapes and sizes and colors. Some as green as glittering emeralds, others had opalescent scales that reflected the sun like a mirror, and then there was the largest of them all, a hulking red and black dragon, with eyes of molten fire and two long silver whiskers.

Sylus pointed to the largest dragon, “That’s the elder of this tribe, Tengya. It’s said that he’s lived for over five thousand years.”

“Is that why he’s so big?” you whispered, afraid to talk any louder.

“Yes. Unlike humans who stop growing at a certain point, dragons only get larger the longer they are alive. His size is testament to how long he has been on the planet. Many battles he has faced and he remains.”

“Do dragons die naturally or are they immortal?”

“They can die of old age, most don’t make it to that point. Most dragons end up dead battling other dragons or being felled by humans. Not Tengya though, no one that has challenged him has survived.”

“I can see why. He’s terrifying.”

“Yes he is. Imagine living with him.”

“Live with him? Did you live in his tribe?”

“I did, for a bit.” he gruffed. “He’s about as approachable as he looks.”

You didn’t ask any further questions and instead watched the dragons on the beach. The sound of their roars only got louder now that they were all gathered together. As the sun began to set the elder, Tengya, stepped forward and the beach fell silent. He sat back and nodded to one of the smaller dragons to step forward. It was a sky blue dragon that stepped forward and bowed their head.

There was an expectant silence as the blue dragon dug its claws into the sand, arched its back, and then blew a hot wave of fire out of its mouth into the sand. It was then you realized what it was doing. It was the same as what your father did in his shop but on a much larger and less precise scale. The dragon had turned the sand into twisting tower of glass.

The dragons on the beach thumped their tails against the ground, almost like applause.

“What is this?” you whispered to Sylus.

“It’s a rite of adulthood.” he explained just as quietly, “Adolescent dragons have to demonstrate their power by blowing a fire into the sand to create large craters and statues. The bigger the formation, the more powerful they are seen.”

“Amazing.” you watched as the next dragon stepped forward to a new patch of glass. This one used its wings to pick up more sand as they blew their fire and made an even taller sculpture than the last. “What do they do with the glass afterwards?”

“It is considered treasure and taken back as the first piece of their proper hoard and usually given a place of honor.”

You thought back to the hoard room back at your mountain. You had explored it quite a few times now and you could not recall seeing a giant glass sculpture anywhere in there.

One by one you watched as the young dragons stepped forward and made their creations. It was amazing to witness but the sun had long since set and you were starting to get cold up on the cliff. A shiver ran through your body and Sylus pulled you onto his lap, his wings extended from his back and folded in around you to shield you from the wind. You leaned against him, sapping whatever warmth you could get from his body.

“You know,” you said, “I’m glad you were the dragon that moved into the mountain. Before meeting you I would not have thought I’d feel so safe in a dragon’s arms. ”

“Nor did I think I’d embrace a human like this.” he said, nuzzling his nose against your hair. “I’m glad it was you that hiked up the mountain. Anyone else would not have been nearly as interesting.”

Your heart was beating terribly loud again. You picked your head off his shoulder and looked him in the eye. “Sylus,” your cold hands rested on his broad warm chest. “I’m scared I’m going to do something foolish.”

“And what foolish thing is that, little bird?” he asked. He stared back at you through half lidded eyes, once again letting nothing show on his face.

“This.” you leaned closer, your eyes falling shut as you pressed your lips to his.

He had gone rigid in your arms, his lips unmoving against yours. Immediately you worried that you had done something wrong. You pulled back slightly, embarrassed beyond words. “I’m sorry. I told you it was foolish--”

Sylus grabbed the back of your neck and pushed your mouth back against his. You gasped and his tongue swept into your mouth. You wound your hands into his silvery hair, trying to pull him even more into you. He tasted like heat and spice, as if you had taken a drop of the summer sun and let it coat your tongue.

“You continue to surprise me.” he murmured against your lips.

“And you worried me. I thought I had ruined everything for a moment there.” you chuckled.

“Took me a moment to realize you had actually done that.” his hands landed on your hips, adjusting you so sat more comfortably on his lap. “You taste even sweeter than I thought you would.”

He pulled you back in, pushing your entire body flush to him so not a part of you wasn’t on him. His teeth gently worried your lower lip and you could feel the sharp point of his canines graze your skin. You felt something slide across your ankle and squeaked, worried for a moment it was a snake before realizing it was Sylus’s tail.

“Don’t mind it.” he said, “I feel it sometimes has a mind of its own. But this, is all me.”

His tail had slithered under the fabric of your skirt and wrapped around your thigh, pulling your leg over him so you were straddled on one of his legs. “What are you--ah!” you got your answer when he jostled the leg you were straddled across.

“Ride it.” his voice had dropped to that low growl you had heard him use when you were both in the hot spring.

Oh gods, were you really doing this? You lowered yourself so your cunt was pressed right to his thigh and ground your hips down. The bit of friction sent pleasurable ripples through your body and you could feel heat pooling between your legs. His hands roamed up and down your body, touching you in a way you had only allowed in your fantasies.

“You’re still so cold,” he said, the pad of his thumb teasing your nipple through the material of your dress. “Just look at how you shiver.”

“Sylus,” you ground against his leg a little harder. “Please Sylus.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll keep you warm.” his mouth latched to your neck, biting and bruising the sensitive skin.

You moaned aloud, pressing yourself more into his touch. You knew that you had to have soaked through the material of your undergarments. You normally went without since it meant more laundry to do but considering that you had to fly here you wanted the extra cover. Right now it was very inconvenient. You wanted to feel the leather of his pants rubbing against your clit. Wanted to stain his leg with your arousal.

“Sylus,” you panted, “I want to feel you more.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Alright, I can do that.” he said. You thought he was going to let you shuffle about so you could get the undergarments off but instead his hand slid under your dress. “Lift your hips up.”

You weren’t sure what he was doing but you lifted yourself off his leg. You felt the pressure of his claws, cold and hard press against the soaked material and a grin spread on his face. Then the sound of cloth ripping as he cut a slit at the crotch. “There, keep going.”

You lowered yourself again, this time feeling the leather of his pants directly against your soaked and sensitive cunt. You moaned again and he plastered his mouth to yours, swallowing the sound.

“Keep going. Don’t stop until you come.” he commanded. “I want you looking in my eyes as you come undone.”

You threw your arms around his neck, your forehead pressed to his as you rode his thigh. Your cunt spasmed and clenched around nothing longing to be filled. It was all getting to be too much. You were dizzy from pleasure, so close to an orgasm but it was right out fo reach.

Sylus kept his hands on your breasts, rubbing and pinching your nipples through the cotton. His tail was still wrapped around your one thigh, squeezing it tighter and pulling your leg back down when you tried to wiggle off his leg. He switched from biting and bruising your neck to kissing you fiercely. Every little sound you made he wanted it poured down his throat instead. And at this point there were many sounds for him to feast upon.

You were panting and moaning his name against his lips. “Come for me.” he said. “I need you to come for me, my wildfire.”

“Sylus!” your voice cracked as you came.

“That’s it, that’s my girl.” he grabbed your chin and forced you to look in his eyes. Your cunt twitched again, flooding with arousal but nothing to cling onto. All of your juices spilled out onto his thigh, making the leather supple and soft underneath you.

You collapsed forward, your face buried in his neck. His hands gentled up and down your back, easing you back from the high. “Breathe, you did so good. You were so good, little bird.”

“I…I’m feeling much warmer now.” you muttered into his neck.

He chuckled. “Yes. Me too.” For a minute yout sat there catching your breath before Sylus moved you off of his lap.

“What are you doing?”

“It’s probably best we head back now while you’re still warm.” he said.

“But--”

“Trust me, I want nothing more than to tear this dress to pieces and fuck you till you’re screaming. But we also don’t want to garner too much attention up here.”

“Attention?”

“Remember what I said about dragons having an excellent sense of smell?” he nodded towards the beach. “I would really rather not have everyone down on the beach realize that there is a very horny human and dragon nearby.”

“Oh right…” you had forgotten where you were for a moment.

“Come along. Quickly.” he stuffed everything back in the pack and handed it to you.

You gave one final look to the dragons down on the beach surrounded by their giant glass sculptures that glittered in the half-moon light. Sylus scooped you into his arms and you were back to the skies. You held tight to him, pressing a kiss to the side of his neck as you began the long flight back home.

[mclarengf]

thinking about… trying to bake with daniel ricciardo

note: if danny ricc has a million fans, i am one of them. if danny ricc has ten fans, i am one of them. if danny ricc has only one fan, then that one fan is me. if danny ricc has no fans, then that means i am no longer on this earth. if the world is against danny ricc, then i am against the world. (happy holidays!!)

—

it’s christmas eve and daniel has instigated a food fight. you’re supposed to be making a pavlova to bring to his parents’ house tomorrow, but daniel’s seemingly decided that flicking meringue onto your face three times in a row is a good idea.

he looks away every time, whistling as if he’s done nothing wrong. you narrow your eyes at the back of his head, waiting for him to crack.

“what’s wrong, love?” he turns back and questions why you’ve stopped mixing the meringue batter, though his mouth twitches when he sees your expression.

this time, you stay silent, glaring at him.

finally, he laughs, eyes crinkling as he throws his head back. you wait for him to finish, crossing your arms and frowning.

daniel hiccups another laugh out and steps toward you, hands up.

“it was funny, you gotta admit,” he tries defending himself.

“i hate you sometimes,” you retort.

his face drops and he clutches his hands over his heart, “ouch, love!”

“oh, shut up, danny,” you sneer at him as you turn your attention back to the meringues, mumbling a, “cunt,” under your breath.

you can feel when he comes up behind you, warmth radiating off his body even in the summer. he wraps his arms around your shoulders, dropping his head down too.

“i love you~” he sings, trying to get back on your good side.

you say nothing.

you can practically hear him pout in your ear, disappointed in the fact that his actions have consequences.

“c’mon babe, it was just a joke! it’s christmas eve, you can’t be mad at me! i’m sorry!”

when you still don’t respond, daniel takes his arms off you and resigns himself to keep cutting up the fruit.

when he’s settled back into a rhythm of doing that, you scoop some of the mix onto your finger, reach over, and smear it onto his cheek before running to the other side of the kitchen so he can’t catch you.

“aw, you-“ he grins again, bright as anything, and lunges at you, chasing you around the island and through the living room as you giggle.

he finally tackles you into the couch. the smudge is still on his cheek.

“you’re silly,” you scrunch your nose up at him as you catch your breath.

daniel just smiles, admiring you beneath him.

“i love you,” he tries again.

“i love you too, dummy.”

he then collapses on top of you, holding you tight in his embrace. it’s nice; it’s like a weighted blanket which walks and talks and happens to be very annoying sometimes. you melt into his arms, and reach around to hug him back.

daniel’s always been your safe space, and you’re able to be that for him too now, with him being home a lot more than he had been in september, for some strange reason.

you don’t want to let his mind drift back to his career predicament with too much silence, though, so you nudge him and tell him to clean off his cheek.

instead of grabbing a washcloth, or a paper towel, or something sensible, daniel just runs his finger through the meringue and sticks it in his mouth.

you make a face at him, expressing your disgust. you can see the bits he’s missed still sticking to his skin.

“that tastes so good, baby. it’s gonna bang tomorrow night.” he looks at you in awe of your baking skills before dropping back down onto your shoulder. he’s obviously content with staying like this.

fine, you can cuddle for a while, you guess. the pavlova’s not going anywhere.

wait- the pavlova.

“fuck, danny, the meringue’s gonna go flat!”

you scramble off the couch and back to the kitchen so you don’t ruin joe and grace’s christmas.

when daniel comments on how the pavlova looks kind of funny at dinner the next night, you just kick him under the table and say he must be imagining things.

[astroyongie]

𓍢ִ໋☕️✧˚ ༘ ⋆ Christmas Female Idol Tea 𓍢ִ໋☕️✧˚ ༘ ⋆

Note: Hello everyone and Merry Christmas/ Happy Yule to everyone who celebrates theses days! for today we have a little gift. This is a tea post done through tarot, so please take it lightly.

-> Questions regarding who X is won't be answered. You can however send in theories about who you think X is but there won't be denial or confirmation from my part.

-> Each X is one member from the group.

♡➳༻❀ ☕ ❀༺➳♡♡➳༻❀ ☕ ❀༺➳♡♡➳༻❀ ☕ ❀༺➳♡

Red Velvet

not only her career will keep blooming and be prosperous, X will have another solo in 2025 since her last one was rather well perceive by the general public 

January will be an interesting month for X.. she needs to be careful on protecting herself if she doesn't want to end up with a round belly 

X has met someone through a night party organized by SM. This person seems to have good intentions toward her and they have clicked together. not an idol but someone who works in the industry 

X is going through some huge inner conflicts with herself. she is developing a lot of complex as she allowed some mean comments get to her 

X is healthy, both mentally, emotionally and spiritually

♡➳༻❀ ☕ ❀༺➳♡♡➳༻❀ ☕ ❀༺➳♡♡➳༻❀ ☕ ❀༺➳♡

Blackpink 

X has refused an endorsement with a huge and very famous brand 

X needs to stop smoking and be more careful with her health, especially her breathing. i am feeling like she could easily develop a few diseases if she isn't careful with her consumptions 

X has cheated on her partner or she was the one who cheated. hard to guess

Ever since May, X has been lying to the public about her whereabouts and her public life in general to keep the appearances 

♡➳༻❀ ☕ ❀༺➳♡♡➳༻❀ ☕ ❀༺➳♡♡➳༻❀ ☕ ❀༺➳♡

Aespa

X is with this one idol, but largely she has been avoiding to be around him because she feels overwhelmed with his ideas for the future. X feels alone despite many people round her

4 months ago, X started a relationship and she is realizing now that this person isn’t liking her for who she is. it seems like her partner doesn’t like her as much as they initially thought

2025 is X year as she will be promoting a lot outside korea

X is in a loving relationship, maybe with her forever partner 

♡➳༻❀ ☕ ❀༺➳♡♡➳༻❀ ☕ ❀༺➳♡♡➳༻❀ ☕ ❀༺➳♡

Gidle

X didn’t want to renew her contract with the company, but the whole month of September was a month of self reflection for her. she is still sacred that the CEO will do something nasty on their back

X feels lucky and she is happy to be renewing because that is what she wanted. 2025 will be a good year for her individually

X is a victim of some strong spiritual blockage. she has seen a few shamans to be able to get rid of the heavy feeling in her shoulders, but it seems it hasn’t yet left 

2025 will be a totally nw cycle and new year for X and she will be more free to express herself and do the projects she wasn't able to in 2024

X’s payments are 9 weeks late. 

♡➳༻❀ ☕ ❀༺➳♡♡➳༻❀ ☕ ❀༺➳♡♡➳༻❀ ☕ ❀༺➳♡

Itzy

X has some hot tea on JYP, and who knows, it might slip one day 

It’s been around 9 months since X family is trying to battle with the company so they can break off the contract of X with the company so she leaves the group

5 days ago X has started getting closer with someone she met during collab

X has fought and has won the heart of her current partner 

X has been dealing with a lot of anxiety lately but she is trying to hide it because she believes she is “better than this” which isn't helping her 

♡➳༻❀ ☕ ❀༺➳♡♡➳༻❀ ☕ ❀༺➳♡♡➳༻❀ ☕ ❀༺➳♡

StayC

2025 will be way better for X when it comes to health in general 

X will have a solo project in 2025 

X is still in her toxic and co dependent relationship with a fellow member (they broke up and got together again). it's been 7 months since they have come together 

Ever since spring, X has been dealing with a lot of emotional suffering, poor mental health a dn a lot of grief and despair. I am concerned for her well being. 

6 months ago, X went through something very traumatic 

X will make an important choice for her career in 2025 

♡➳༻❀ ☕ ❀༺➳♡♡➳༻❀ ☕ ❀༺➳♡♡➳༻❀ ☕ ❀༺➳♡

XG

June will be a very interesting month for X and her little project 

X has been dating a very hot topic korean idol since July 

X is dating the CEO of their company 

X baby scare?? who knows

X has been very close with her family and despite her young age she knows that becoming a mother is one of her dreams beside music 

X hates fans that are always following them everywhere including airports, hotels, outside in the street, ect 

X has been growing distant from the group after a few arguments that have happened. she doesn't feel seen by the company either 

♡➳༻❀ ☕ ❀༺➳♡♡➳༻❀ ☕ ❀༺➳♡♡➳༻❀ ☕ ❀༺➳♡

Twice

X has been living with her partner for the past 8 months 

X 2025 career will take a new turn and fans might get sad by it 

X is in a stable relationship 

X’s physical condition is really ba, her tiredness and exhaustion is actively messing with her physical health 

X is dating this idol who has currently light brown hair for the past 3 weeks 

X has tried dating a woman this year

X has been undergoing therapy to deal with her mental issues that were affecting her quality of life 

X has thyroid issues which influences her weight and health 

X is a very nice idol and people often take her kindness for granted 

♡➳༻❀ ☕ ❀༺➳♡♡➳༻❀ ☕ ❀༺➳♡♡➳༻❀ ☕ ❀༺➳♡

Mamamoo

X has been dating a very famous divorced actor since last autumn 

X will surprise everyone with a surprising solo in 2025

X is honestly a sweet girl but a lot of people don't care about her 

X is dealing with a very complicated poor mental health which has been impacting her health but her career as well 

♡➳༻❀ ☕ ❀༺➳♡♡➳༻❀ ☕ ❀༺➳♡♡➳༻❀ ☕ ❀༺➳♡

Le Sserafim 

There isn't much to say about X, other than her life has been rather stable lately. she is however seeing 7 different people but they weren't anything official 

X has been giving y’all signs about the change she will make in her career

All of her outside friends and the people she hangs out with are toxic as well and it is showing on X a lot 

X is in a healthy relationship at the moment 

X has been giving “help calls” to her fans but they seem not to notice it

♡➳༻❀ ☕ ❀༺➳♡♡➳༻❀ ☕ ❀༺➳♡♡➳༻❀ ☕ ❀༺➳♡

IVE 

X is also in a relationship where there’s a toxic bond. it’s not healthy but she also doesn’t want to let go of them 

X doesn’t care what people say about her on the internet and yet she still tries to reach a certain standard. she lives through a double edged sword

X’s energy is very heavy and dark, and she probably needs to be spiritually purified 

X has been in a relationship like 4 days ago and this person is maybe the person that shall stay in her life for a long moment 

X will not only have a big boom in 2025, she will make solo projects and a solo as well 

X’s relationship wasn’t the best before of the age gap between her and her partner but since August they have been able to work it out and they are on something way more mature and healthy 

♡➳༻❀ ☕ ❀༺➳♡♡➳༻❀ ☕ ❀༺➳♡♡➳༻❀ ☕ ❀༺➳♡

Kiss Of Life

X is either having a baby scare, either she has been wishing to become a mother or she has been seeking for her mother's support a lot. i will allow you to choose which one makes sense

X’s mental health is so much better. she is a very positive girl and she alway snakes bad look good through the way she sees life

Solo project for X in 2025

X is in a relationship with an idol since this summer who is 5 years older than her 

[uracutieraka]

awkward

I know you hurt me, but (hey) This is more than a friendship

✭・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・。.・゜✭

Iwaizumi Hajime x F!reader

Tw! Smut(ty-ish), mutual pining, being used (or so reader thinks)

✭・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・。.・゜✭

synopsis ; Hajime heard rumors about you, and since you were his close friend from childhood, he obviously has to go out of his way to see if they're true.

✭・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・。.・゜✭

it's your third year and obviously that means rumors are still being spread by any and everyone who enjoys gossip.

this time the rumor was about you.

"She's been with over 5 of the guys on the volleyball team"

"She's had 15 boyfriends from what I heard."

A bunch of bullshit really.

You had never been with anyone.

At least that's what your life long friend Hajime had thought.

But now that he's thinking, the past year you've been really strange and distant.

Disappearing and reappearing at odd hours of the night, to strange locations.

Hajime only knows this because he has your location, naturally, he's your best friend, he's got to watch out for you however he can.

At least that's how he explained why he needed your location to you anyways.

You on the other hand, had found an interest in photographing run-down and nearly abandoned parts of your home town.

Sneaking around at 2:30 in the morning made it easier to get into these odd, sleazy places.

That was until a few weeks ago when a group of boys from the school caught you walking around a risqué club chatting with a few older men who you knew from your first year when they were third years.

And that's how you ended up in this situation.

4 large men towered over you, spouting off a jumble of questions.

“How come sawaka says he saw you mingling up with some shifty old guys at a strip joint?”

The tall dark haired boy, issei, asks. His arms are crossed and hes giving you a near parental eyebrow raise.

“W-what?” You stutter out. Genuine confusion on your face.

“You heard him! Now answer!” The tone of oikawas voice almost sounds like a whine from a child more than a demand.

“Gah! You guys dont control me!” You gather up your things and stand.

“And just where do you think youre going?” Makki now opens his mouth, but you know hes just antagonizing the situation, he probably couldnt care less about whatever you got up to in your own time.

“Away! Forever!” You say dramatically, leaving the classroom to enjoy your lunch elsewhere.

That night your phone rings, around 12:30 am.

Your eyes look up from your notebook that youd been doodling in for the past 4 hours.

Answering it a gruff voice speaks out

‘Can i come over? We need to talk.’

Iwaizumi seems upset.

‘Yeah of course, ill meet you down the street.’

10 minutes role by and you make it to the little park down the street from your house, just as Iwaizumi arrives.

He looks good, he’s starting to fill out and looks more manly than ever.

“Hey…??” You say in a questioning manner. You couldnt tell how he was feeling right now and then pit in your stomach was growing ever since he said those words.

“Your parents are still out of town?” He asks making his way past you to start the walk back towards your home.

“Yeah, for another 5 days i think? Who knows.. hah..”

Smooth, jackass, real smooth.

“Ah! Thats lame, i dont know how you stay home alone all the time like that.”

The mood lightens a bit with his goofy tone coming out slightly.

Hajime had always been the more serious one out of the two of you but that was never the case when it actually came down to being just the two of you.

He always was cracking jokes and acting like a fool, just to get a smile from you.

“Yeah, me either, i just stay up in my room now, i guess.”

“Seems boring.”

“Eh.” You shrug your shoulders, unlocking your front door.

You two make your way up to your room, not before raiding the kitchen for snacks and drinks first though.

This felt normal.

Like old times.

You honestly couldn’t remember the last time you two had hungout like this.

Over the past year you had drifted away from him, only because you couldnt help yourself.

Your once innocent thoughts about the boy youd grown up with had started becoming more and more…colorful.

The way his hands looked when writing, all the years of volleyball had definitely done good things for the man.

His arms were veiny as well as his hands.

His shoulders were broad and made him looks 10 xs more masculine than he already did.

Not to mention his voice had significantly dropped and his voice cracks had almost completely disappeared.

He was becoming a man and you were becoming a woman. And women have needs.

So instead of being selfish you separated yourself from him.

“So, you wanted to talk?” You ask, shoving a handful of popcorn in your mouth, sitting crisscrossed facing him on your bed.

He shifted to sit criss cross to face you now.

“Yeah, about the stuff going around school. You know, the things people are saying about you.”

“What about it? Its not true. If thats what youre wondering.”

“I mean- i didnt think so but…” you cut him off before he can say anything else.

“But you just had to figure it out for yourself?”

You knew him too well.

You saw something in him shift, a sudden energy overtook the room, one you hadn't experienced before.

He looked at you, "Yeah. You could say something like that."

"What do you mean?"

The way he looked back up at you after you had asked that sent a warm heat through your body.

"I mean, I've seen your location, why are you running around dirty parts of the city in the middle of the night? Are you really down there...doing things?" He seemed upset for second but then became stern again.

"Things? Like what? Partying?"

"I guess."

"No.," you sigh rolling your eyes as you lift yourself off the bed, reaching for your laptop. "I've been doing photography of the nightlife and shit."

He takes the laptop from you when you offer it to him, clicking through the hundreds of photos you'd accumulated over the past year.

After a bit of silence he speaks up.

"Wow, y/n, these are," he looks up at you and gives you a huge smile. "amazing! Holy shit dude! Why didnt you tell anyone about this?”

“Because i wanted it to be my own thing that i do for myself.”

He hands you back your laptop and you close it moving to set it on your desk.

A sudden change in energy yet again settles around your room.

Hajime is looking at his hands fiddling with his thumb and index finger, youre re-situating yourself on your bed when you look back up at him.

You know third year is coming to an end, which means he’s going to California soon.

You open your mouth to speak to him.

“I got into UCLA.” You say confidently.

He now looks up at you eyes wide.

“What?” He asks, wondering if maybe he misunderstood.

“I couldnt just let you go to the US without me. That wouldnt be fair y’know!”

He lifts off his side of your bed and tackles you down in a hug.

Positioning himself to hover above you now he has a giant grin on his face.

One only youve ever seen, hes goofy, and totally a sports nerd, well mannered, and sweet. This is a side of him only youve ever gotten.

“Youre not pulling my leg are you?” He give you a near-disappointed face.

“No. Im serious.”

“Ok.,” His eyebrows furrow and he turns his head for a second, a blush spreading on his face, with a huff he looks back at you. “Im…im glad youre coming. And im glad youre not out partying and getting with other guys.” He looks more serious than before.

“Other guys?” You raise a brow at him.

His face gets even redder than before.

“Well, yeah. I just figured you knew that i liked you….”

“You just ‘figured’ that i knew that you, hajime, liked me, y/n? And how exactly would i have figured that out?”

He rolls off of you now laying next you looking at your ceiling.

You’re nervous. He likes you? The guy that you’ve spent your entire life with like you…back?

“I dont know. The guys said it was obvious so there was no way you didnt know.”

You give him a blank stare into the side of his head.

“You are the biggest idiot i have ever met.”

He now looks at you, you can see him visibly shrink in on himself.

A few moments go by and you turn your head back to look at the ceiling.

“I love you.”

He sits up turning to look at you laying down.

“I love you.”

You sit up and your guys faces are so close you can see the faint scars on his face from all the roughhousing over the years.

Hes looking at you blankly, unable to comprehend that you might actually love him.

You roll your eyes at him. Knowing exactly how hes reeling in his own head.

“Im not lying, i love you.”

He gives you a raised brow.

You huff and lean in closing the distance.

He kisses you back, his hands snaking up around you, under your tshirt.

Hajime had been with a few girls before. He had told you about it, obviously.

Honestly you shouldve been more upset at the fact he was being a total hypocrite right now.

Things had heated up, he was between your legs, caging you beneath him, you had your hands in his hair, holding his lips to yours.

He was grinding up against you, you were moaning into his mouth.

Next thing you knew he was ripping your clothes off and you were pulling his off of him.

He ran himself over your wetness and let out a groan.

Pushing himself into you, you let out a loud gasp at the sudden splitting feeling.

He kissed your jaw whispering in your ear.

“You ok?”

You moaned and rolled your hips forward a bit, to signal you wanted him to move.

He began moving back and forth, slowly at first, until you begged him to go faster.

Soon he had your leg up on his shoulder and was leaning over you, leaving kisses down your jaw and neck.

“H-haji-,” he leaned up, not slowing his pace. “M’ gonna- m’gonna”

He threw his head back pulling your hips to match the pace of his thrusting, he was going deeper and harder than before, the knots were tightening in your abdomen.

“Do it.”

With that you let go, seeing fireworks fill your vision.

“F-fuck!” He pulled out cumming on your stomach.

He got up and retrieved a washcloth from your bathroom, cleaning you up.

Getting dressed again you laid back down, him in his boxers next to you.

But he was facing your wall. You felt a ping of hurt in your chest as you crawled back into your bed, where the boy you loved had just deflowered you.

“Haji-“ you spoked but stopped when you heard a soft snore leave his mouth. A sigh left your lips as you faced the other way and closed your eyes. Youd just talk to him in the morning.

✭・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・。.・゜✭

Morning rolled around and you found yourself in the middle of your bed. Looking around you didnt see hajime or his things. You stood out of bed and looked to your clock.

5:45 am.

You grabbed your phone, opting to call him instead of search around for him.

No answer.

You thought back to the night before and felt sick to your stomach.

Maybe you messed everything up.

These thought filled your head all the way to school.

When you arrived in the classroom you saw him sitting at his desk. Right next to yours.

You made a slow approach towards your usual seat, eyeing him like he was some sort of monster that would spot you at the slightest movement.

Sitting down you finally turned towards him.

“Hey.” You said soft enough for him to hear it.

He looked at you then turned away quick. Not answering.

You looked down at your lap, where your fingers were twirling anxiously.

✭・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・。.・゜✭

This act kept up for 3 whole weeks. Not one word said between you two.

This was becoming a problem for your mutual friends on the volleyball team.

You had stopped coming around to practices and ignoring the other boys. It was lowering the whole teams morale.

Finally oikawa had enough and cornered you against a corner with the other 2 boys.

“What. The. Fuck. Is. Going. On.”

It wasnt a question. It was a demand.

“Nun ya.” You said crossing your arms and rolling your eyes.

Maki smacked the wall next to your head leaning down to make eye contact with you.

“Tell us now.” He was dead serious.

“Fine.,” you huffed looking away from them. “Hajimeandihadsex3weeksagoandheleftinthemiddleofthenightandhasbeenignoringmeeversince.”

“Woah-woah- you and haijime WHAT?!” Now mattsun spoke up shaking his head in disbelief.

“We had sex. And then he rolled over in my bed and went to sleep. And now hes ignoring me. And hasnt talked to me in 3 whole weeks.” You were looking at your shoes, tears had finally built up in your eyes.

Oikawa put his hand on your shoulder.

“Hey,” it was soft spoken, unusual from his normal behavior. “Hes a dick for that. You didnt deserve that.” He patted your back and motioned for the other two boys to follow him.

They made their way to Hajimes classroom telling him to come with them for an impromptu club meeting. He followed unknowingly.

They found themselves in the club room.

Hajime in a familiar position that you had been in by the same boys just a bit prior.

Oikawa, Maki, and Mattsuwaka had evil and dangerous looks on their faces. Hajime was scared.

Mattun spoke. “Whats your problem?”

Then oikawa through gritted teeth. “Youve got some explaining to do.”

And finally Maki, “How is it you bag the hottie whos our number one supporter and somehow you manage to fumble her?” Hes popping his knuckles in a threatening manner.

Iwaizumi gave a few dumbfounded blinks then spoke up.

“I uh-,” he was cut off by the three boys leaning over him more than they were before, closing out any light from the corner he was in. He cleared his throat and spoke again. “I came really quick. And uh. Im embarrassed to talk to her.”

The three boys all exchanged glances before leaning back up.

Hajime leaned all the way back up as well.

Maki reached out and landed a hard punch to the cornered boys stomach.

“You fucking idiot!”

Oikawa now spoke, “you know, y/n thinks that you hate her? She was crying over it earlier!”

Mattsun pushed hajime towards the door.

“You better go fix this. Fucking dumbass.”

✭・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・。.・゜✭

It was 8:30 pm.

Hajime knocked on your door, hoping your parents were off somewhere for work.

You answered the door.

Hajime took you in.

You had on a too large Tshirt he knew to be oikawas, one you had stolen a year prior, during a group sleepover at mattsuns.

Hajime remembered you had been baking cookies in the kitchen with the tall setter when he caked you in flour and eggs. In exchange he offered up his sleep shirt, feeling bad afterwards about the mess he made.

Looking down a pair of his own boxers sat on your hips. Folded down a few times so theyd fit you.

They mustve gotten mixed in your laundry at some point. Who knows.

“Haji! Hi!” You gave him a wide-eyed stare. Caught off guard by his sudden presence after weeks of missing him.

He looked at you then down at his feet, kicking a small rock he shoved his hands in his pockets, looking back up to you he spoke.

“Im really fucking sorry y/n.”

✭・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・。.・゜✭

You had only seen him like this twice in your entire life.

Once when he and oikawa broke your brand new guitar that you spent a whole summer babysitting and doing odd jobs to save money for.

Hes still doing chores for his mom to this day to pay off the debt of buying you a new one.

The second time was 2 summers ago when you and the other volleyball team members went camping for a summer bonding trip.

Oikawa and hajime were sitting next to you rough housing when the black haired boys elbow flew back and hit you square in the nose.

A quick *crack* sounded on impact.

He slowly turned his head to look at you, blood rushing down your face from your nose, your nose was already purple and crooked to one side.

“Holy shit. Holy shit, holyshit. Holyshitholyshit.” You panicked.

The other team members gathered around you, unsure what to do.

“We… we need to go to the hospital.” Hajime spoke up.

“You fucking broke my nose!” You were crying, trying not to touch your nose.

“Oh fuck!” Oikawa now said bring everyone back to earth.

With a rush you were in a coaches car with haijme holding you stroking your hair.

“Im sorry” was all he said to you for the 30 minute drive.

He never lived that down. But you werent too mad.

You got a free nose job and hes still paying off his debt for breaking your nose.

✭・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・。.・゜✭

“Wha-“ you were cut off by him speaking again.

“I really really fucked up y/n. And im so sorry. I love you and i was embarrassed and didnt know what to do.”

“Not ignore me, maybe?” You huffed now annoyed.

“I know. Im sorry.,” he looked around then straight abck at you, now straightening his posture. “I love you too.”

You blinked a few times then began shutting the door.

He stopped you with his foot.

“Wait!”

You groaned loudly then reopened it.

“What? You really hurt my feelings and now you just want me to be like ‘oh ok, cool youre embarrassed you fucked me’ and move on?”

“No! I- i want to explain myself.”

You leaned against the door and rolled your eyes. “Fine.”

“I uh, i camereallyfastandthiughtyoudhatemeandbeembarrassediwasyourfirsttime.”

You now stood completely infront of him.

Your eyes yet again wide in surprise.

“So you ignored me because you came quick?”

He was now giving you the same dumb look you had just given him.

“Yeah.” It was quiet. Like a scolded child.

“So what? I came too, i dont know how all this sex stuff works exactly but i think were even.” You now had an eyebrow quirked up at him.

“Oh…”

“Yeah ‘oh’ you ignored me for 3 weeks because you came quick or whatever you just said.”

He now looked extremely embarrassed.

“How are you going to make it up to me?” You asked.

“Uhm,” he stood there thinking for a second. “How about a date? Tomorrow? 7pm? Wear something nice?”

You felt a smile grow on your face.

“Sounds good.”

“See you tomorrow.”

“See you tomorrow.”

[mortimerc]

𝕴 𝖜𝖎𝖑𝖑 𝖇𝖊 𝖞𝖔𝖚𝖗 𝖘𝖆𝖛𝖎𝖔𝖚𝖗 𝖔𝖓𝖈𝖊 𝖒𝖔𝖗𝖊.

𝕮𝖍𝖆𝖕𝖙𝖊𝖗 2

Male - GN Reader x Viktor (Arcane)

TW : blo0d, t0rture, g0re, obsessive behaviour?, cursing/ harsh wording

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

After the meeting with with Professor Heimerdinger, You had done your own 𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐜𝐡 about the mysterious person that had been attending your lectures. You have to admit, that you might have done too much snooping in the said person.

Nothing much, just his birth certificate, ID, passport, where he lives, what he does.

It’s probably just a matter of interest that you have and it probably will pass on through time like how everyone has.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

After a lecture on the history of human evolution, You decided to make your move and actually do something. So you called him after the lecture before he left.

You walked up to him and you think, he was so much more shorter than you have expected.

Calling his name- “Viktor, was it?”

“Ah, Professor, do you need anything?”

You haven’t think this through before, you didn’t think you would make this far. So you made up a lie.

“Yes, I have been in this academy for many years now, doing well without assistance-“

From now, all of the researchers have left the room, leaving you both alone.

“But my brain needs a little help, maybe a little space for the things that I lecture. In summary, I think I would need a TA, and I have put a lot of thought into this and I think that you would be absolutely perfect on what I teach.”

“So, what do you say, Viktor?”

“It must have seem that you have really precise observation, and you are correct, I am really interested into your lectures. Evolution. But are you sure that I am good enough to be by your side, Professor? I mean, I have seen all of your work and what you had invented, but there are much more better examples rather than myself.” Viktor said with his thick Siberian accent.

“Are you questioning my decision?”

He laughs softly “I guess not, I’ll have to think about this. How about you give me directions to your office, then if I made my decision, I’ll just visit you directly.”

“Alright then, follow me.”

You both made your way to your office, chatting about something on the way before arriving.

You opened the door to your office and invites Viktor in.

You pulled out a chair at your desk, helping him sit down and propping his cane on the wall.

You notices Viktor seemed to relax more than usual when he was in the lectures, taking in the smell of the coffee, old books and ink aroma that your office had

“I have another lecture to head to, You are free to come and sit in my office whenever you wish, well that is if you agree to my offer soon. I will be waiting for your reply soon.” You said while packing up books, paper and chalk packets into your briefcase before heading towards the doors of your office.

“Mhm. I’ll see you soon, Professor.”

You nod before leaving and closing the door behind you. Viktor can hear your shoes clicking throughout the hallways, the noise gradually getting quieter until Viktor sits in your office in complete silence.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

This story is going to be longer than I thought…

[enbyfvcker]

"Come back home."

𝙒𝙖𝙙𝙚 𝙒𝙞𝙡𝙨𝙤𝙣 𝙭 𝙇𝙤𝙜𝙖𝙣 (𝙬𝙤𝙧𝙨𝙩!𝙬𝙤𝙡𝙫𝙚𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙚)

𝙒𝙤𝙧𝙙 𝙘𝙤𝙪𝙣𝙩: 2k

𝙎𝙪𝙢𝙢𝙖𝙧𝙮/𝙥𝙧𝙤𝙢𝙥𝙩: a part two continuation from this from @psychohoneywhiskey because it rented a whole fucking condo in my head.

𝙏𝙖𝙜𝙨: Hurt/comfort, angst, fighting, fluff, kissing, happy ending, Wade needs a hug, Logan needs a hug.

Wade only got home when the sun was already rising. His suit was all torn up, and some wounds still healed from the fight he just had with some stubborn criminals.

He expected to see Logan sleeping on the couch, but he didn't.

Well, maybe he decided to sleep in his bed?

He walks to his bedroom with expectation but also finds it empty.

Actually, not entirely empty.

In his bed layed all the clothes Wade bought Logan folded. All the little thoughtful gifts he gave him. Everything that Wade got him to say through actions that he's wanted.

Looks like the message didn't land.

His heart tightens, tears welling in his eyes as he realizes that Logan left him.

Left after being willing to sacrifice himself for Wade. Left after making this crack house he lived in into a home. Left after letting Wade convince him to stay sober after decades. Left after stealing his way into Wade's heart, his life, his family.

And just like that, 𝘩𝘦 𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘷𝘦𝘴. Without nothing with him but his suit.

Honestly, Wade doesn't think he should be surprised for this. He knew it was going to happen. He knew Logan was just waiting for an opportunity to get rid of him. Who would ever put up with him? God, if he could escape from himself sometimes, he would. He tried many times, too.

So could he even blame him, really?

In that moment, all the words Logan spat at him in that Honda Odyssey at the middle of a god forsaken void came back into his mind. They have been constantly in the past weeks.

He did feel like a ridiculous sad joke. He wanted nothing more than to be able to die alone because at least it meant he would just 𝘧𝘶𝘤𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘥𝘪𝘦 𝘢𝘭𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘺. That his attempts wouldn't just be self-harm anymore and that when he tried blowing himself up, he wouldn't just regenerate back.

He couldn't keep his job. Couldn't keep Vanessa. Couldn't keep Logan. If it weren't for Logan, he wouldn't be able to keep his fucking universe.

He'd never be an anchor being. He'd never make a difference or matter, so why would anyone stay?

He sobbed as he held one of Logan's shirts, burying his face into it and desperately trying to smell any remaining scent of him.

Mary Puppins walks in, her tongue out as she turns her head to the side, looking up at Wade with sad eyes.

"What's all that damn noise? Did you stub your toe again?" Al walks in wearing a sleeping robe and her sunglasses, apparently having awakened from Wade's ugly crying.

"Hey, Al..." Wade just sniffles, his voice broken as he just chooses to ignore her question.

"What happened?"

"Logan left..."

"Oh."

"Yeah. Guess I'm that insufferable that he couldn't stand spending another minute with me."

"He spent whole months with you, Wade."

"Sure, but did he even have a choice? I basically kidnapped him and threw him in a fucking new universe. I'm like an old creepy guy in a van. He was just waiting for a chance to run off. And he did."

"Come here, let's get you some tea." Al gestures for Wade to follow her to the kitchen, and he does, taking the shirt in his hands with him.

"Actually, I could use some cocaine right now. And you could use the cure for blindness to see how heartbroken I am for tea." He remarks, following behind her, dogpool following Wade. "Try not to break any cups this time."

Al puts sets a kettle in the stove and turns it on as Wade sits on a chair, all droopy and his eyes red.

"Did he take anything with him? Any money? Clothes? How do you know he won't just come back?"

"No, nothing. He must be wandering the streets like a lost puppy right now. And I just know."

"I think you boys are just too stupid to communicate properly. If you talked about this shit-"

"Oh, he talked plenty, believe me. He ran his mouth about how much of a joke I am."

"Oh, cut the self-loathing crap. That was before then. You two have been acting like an old married gay couple for the last months, don't give me that. You don't see the way he looks at you."

"Oh, and you do?!"

"I don't have to see it to know that guy would throw himself in the fire for you. If he ran off, then it's probably because the idiot read your sad little kitten act like a sign he's not welcomed."

"What-"

"Shut up. Now, if you don't grow a pair of balls for once and try to find him, I sweat to god-"

"I wouldn't even know where to look. And I doubt it he'd even want me to."

"So you better start right away. Go."

"What about my tea-"

"Go."

...

The last few days were rough. And that's saying something, considering all Logan went through in his universe.

He didn't have a place to stay anymore, so he just wandered around and got from bar to bar. He didn't have any cash on him, so he would flash his claws out to the barman as a threat when he was asked about his bill.

He felt like a goddamn monster, so why not act like it. He's not proud of it, but it's been months he didn't have a drink, and all he wanted was to drown the overwhelming feelings eating at him.

He got banned from multiple bars, always hopping to the next one. Getting drunk, getting in some fights, wandering around...

He felt like he was back in his universe. He felt so fucking stupid to think maybe he could change. That maybe here he could turn the page, start a new life with Wade.

Turns out the place it's not the problem, he's the fucking problem. He's a disease that destroys everything he touches, and he should know better than to try and have any connection with anyone.

He failed everyone. He failed the X-men by not being there. He failed Charles by going into a murderous spree. He failed Laura by not being the right guy. He failed Wade by being the complete jerk he is.

He wasn't sure how many days it had been since he left. He's smelling bad, and his hair is mess, but all he cares right now is finishing one more bottle. Then, one more, and one more, and...

He feels something - someone - poking him. Logan thinks it may be the barman or the manager, so he pulls his claws out. "Look, bub, I-"

"Heya, Peanut. Gosh, I'm getting deja-vu. Ain't ya?" Logan's eyes focus to see Wade standing next to him wearing his suit and mask, and his heart races quickly. "You're a hard one to find, honey badger. And I'm a mercenary, so-"

"The fuck are you doing here?"

"You know the answer to that."

"Save it, bub. I gave you an easy way out. You should have taken it."

"Come on, let's just talk-"

"Not in the fucking mood." Logan grumbles, suddenly feeling his chest too tight and like the walls were closing on him. He stumbles while getting off the chair and heading outside with heavy steps, hearing an angry voice behind the counter as he leaves without paying.

He walks out of the bar, rushing somewhere through the empty street, nightly darkness everywhere. Where? Where the fuck was he rushing to?

He hears a bell noise and other footsteps behind him.

"Fine! I get it, alright?! I'm the worst damn piece of crap that you could possibly be stuck with! You were right, ok? I'm everything you said I am. I'd run off, too." Wade shouts, his broken voice making Logan halt in his steps. "But at least let me return the favor of you saving my universe. Let me try and find you somewhere where you don't have to deal with me-"

"It was never about that." Logan grunts, his heart aching like it was about to break.

How could Wade possibly think it was about that?

"What?"

"I'm poison, bub." Logan sighs, finally turning around. "I destroy everything I touch. I hurt everyone around me, I hurt you. I don't deserve you taking me in. I don't deserve your affection or your family. I shouldn't have thought that there was more to my life than being the miserable monster I am and living with the consequences of my own actions. You got the worst you could possibly have, Wade. I'm just doing you the favor of retracting myself before I fuck everything up beyonde repair." Logan could feel his throat tight like a knot as he fought back stubborn tears.

Wade was stunned, silent for a few seconds before he took off his mask and gave Logan the most puppy dog eyes he ever saw, his eyes glossy with tears matching his own.

"You're an fucking idiot." Wade simply stated, a sad smile in his lips. "You're not a monster. And you're far from the worst I could have. I owe my whole world to you. I know you think I'm a joke, but I couldn't ask for a better-"

"I don't think you're a joke." He interrupted.

"But... in the Honda Odyssey, back at the void..." Wade replies, hearing a chuckle that held nothing but sadness.

Fuck. It never came to Logan's mind that what he said that day actually stuck to Wade. He is an idiot. Those words felt so distant, so different from what he felt now for the merc. After all those months they lived together, getting all domestic and shit. Wade crawled into his heart that had felt dead for years and got a space there.

"That was before, bub. I didn't even really know you, of course now I don't think that shit I said."

"But you did... Back then." Wade looks down, his voice low.

"I'm sorry..." Logan says, the words feeling foreign on his tongue. "You didn't deserve that. I was a jerk. I still am, but... You make me want to be better, bub. It's stupid, but... You kidnapping me was probably the best thing that ever happened to me in years, and I was just... so scared I fucked it up too, like everything else."

Wade chuckles, and his eyes brighten as he looks at Logan, his heart feels lighter at hearing those words.

"You didn't." Wade gets closer, his hand resting at Logan's shoulder. "You're wanted. Loved."

The care and gentleness in Wade's touch melts Logan, he leans closer too.

"Come back home."

Those words alone broke him.

For so long, he didn't have a home. How could he have ever taken this one for granted?

"Alright, bub."

It was like clockwork when their lips met in a soft, gentle kiss, them holding each other closely as if they both feared the other would disappear into thin air any second. It felt so natural. Their hearts were calm and frantic at the same time.

Suddenly, there were fireworks sounds and colorful lights surrounding them, and they could hear people chanting happily in the background.

𝘖𝘩.

So it was New Year's already.

They kept their lips together for a few seconds as fireworks popped and formed colorful patterns in the sky. When they pulled away, their eyes were filled with longing and pure affection.

"You're stinky." Wade comments with a smile even though he keeps Logan close. Logan chuckles.

"Yeah, sorry."

"Come on. Let's get you home and make you a nice warm bath, peanut. Blind Al and Mary Puppins are missing you." Wade says while putting his arms around Logan's waist as he guides him their way home.

"Just them?"

"No." Wade replies. "Not just them."

[acute-crashout-jeyuso]

Sacrifices (BTR Series Book 2 of 3) a Jhea Fanfic.

Chapter 32: The Bitch Lied..

5:22 PM

Rhea pulled into the garage, the hum of the Tahoe's engine fading as she turned it off. She sat for a moment, staring at the folder on the passenger seat, still unable to wrap her mind around what had happened earlier. With a deep breath, she grabbed the folder and her backpack and headed inside through the garage door.

The house was quiet, the kind of calm that always greeted her when Jey was home and the boys were with their mom. She set everything down on the counter and called out, “Jey?”

“Coming!” his voice called back from upstairs.

Rhea hopped onto one of the bar stools, her fingers drumming on the counter as she waited. Moments later, Jey came down, dressed in a black tank and gray sweatpants, his hair still damp from a shower. He smiled, his presence immediately comforting. “Hey, babe. How was work?”

Rhea hesitated, her lips curving into a faint smile. “It was… great.”

Jey’s eyes flicked to the folder on the counter. “What’s that?”

Rhea stayed quiet, her expression unreadable. Without waiting for an answer, Jey grabbed the folder and flipped it open. His brows furrowed as he read the first line aloud. “‘You know, Kiddo, I’d like to believe that you’re aware enough even now to know that there’s nothing sadistic in my actions… I love you.’ King Cobra?”

Rhea nodded but didn’t say anything, watching as his eyes moved down the page.

Jey’s voice dropped an octave as he continued reading. “‘The items gifted include my estate property in Orlando, FL, and the sum of my bank accounts combined, which amount to $950,000,000 USD. I hope that they will serve their purpose with the utmost utility and continue to act as tokens of favor in your journey. I entrust their stewardship to you. Please understand that these assets are exempt from any claims, liens, and encumbrances and are being gifted to you without any obligations attached to them, except any relevant taxes associated with the transfer, if necessary.’”

Jey’s mouth hung open as he set the folder down, his eyes wide as they locked on hers. “Nine hundred and fifty million dollars?”

Rhea sighed, her shoulders slumping. “It’s from Morris. He left it to me. Brandy came by today to tell me. I guess he never trusted anyone else with his money.”

Jey blinked, still trying to process the words. “He trusted you? That much?”

Rhea nodded slowly. “Yeah. I don’t even know why he thought I’d want this. I mean, what am I supposed to do with it? I didn’t even ask for this.”

Jey ran a hand down his face, exhaling sharply. “First off…” He walked around the counter, standing in front of her and placing his hands on her thighs. “This doesn’t change us. Okay? Even though you’re now almost as rich as Kim Kardashian.”

Rhea let out a surprised laugh, shaking her head. “Jey, come on.”

“I’m serious,” Jey said, his lips twitching into a grin. “I don’t care if you’ve got a billion dollars or zero dollars. You’re still my Rhea. This doesn’t change a damn thing about us.”

Rhea reached out, grabbing his hands. “Thank you.” Her voice softened. “It’s just… overwhelming. I don’t even know where to start with this.”

“You don’t have to figure it out right now,” Jey said, squeezing her hands. “We’ll take it one step at a time. And you’re not in this alone. We’ll handle it together, yeah?”

Rhea nodded, her chest feeling a little lighter. “Yeah. Together.” Rhea pulled Jey into a tight embrace, her voice soft as she murmured, “I’m so glad to have you.”

Jey returned the hug, resting his chin on her shoulder. “I am too.”

After a moment, they broke apart, and Rhea walked over to the guinea pig’s cage, smiling as she reached in to stroke Bartholomew’s soft fur.

Jey leaned against the counter, watching her. He hesitated for a moment, clearly debating whether to speak. Finally, he said, “Rhea, actually… babe, I have to ask you a question.”

Rhea glanced over her shoulder, her hand still gently petting the guinea pig. “Go ahead, babe. What’s on your mind?”

Jey hesitated again, his hand rubbing the back of his neck. “It’s… a little off.”

Noticing the shift in his tone, Rhea turned fully to face him, her brows furrowed. “What is it, love?” she asked, concern creeping into her voice as she studied his expression.

Jey took a deep breath, his eyes meeting hers. “Did you ever… do anything with Morris?”

The question hung in the air for a moment, heavy with unspoken meaning.

Rhea blinked, momentarily stunned. “What?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

Jey shifted uncomfortably, his gaze dropping to the floor. “I mean… you said he trusted you with everything, his money, his estate. That’s a lot for someone to just… hand over. It’s making me wonder if there was ever… anything more between you two.”

Rhea’s jaw tightened as she took a step closer to him. “You’re seriously asking me that?”

Jey raised his hands, sensing the edge in her tone. “Babe, I’m not accusing you of anything. I’m just asking. It’s been bothering me since I read that letter.”

Rhea crossed her arms, her eyes narrowing. She took a deep breath, deciding that honesty was the best course. “You said you wanted us to be more truthful… okay, Jey. We did make out a few times, but it never went past that. It was a long time ago, and it meant nothing. I didn’t think it was worth bringing up because it was so insignificant.”

Jey’s expression remained unreadable as he absorbed her words.

After a moment, he simply nodded, his lips pressed into a thin line. Without saying anything further, he turned and walked upstairs to their bedroom, leaving Rhea standing by Bartholomew’s cage, her heart pounding in her chest.

She watched him go, a sinking feeling settling in her stomach.

Bartholomew squeaked softly, as if sensing the tension in the room.

Rhea sighed, leaning against the counter as she tried to process the sudden shift in their evening.

She knew they would need to talk more, but for now, she gave Jey the space he seemed to need, hoping that their honesty would ultimately strengthen their bond.

—

Rhea stirred the vegetables together and quickly flipped the grilled chicken, her movements precise yet distracted. Jey still hadn’t come downstairs, but she prepared a portion for him nonetheless. After serving her plate, she poured herself a glass of pink lemonade and sat down, trying to focus on her meal.

A sudden kick in her stomach drew her attention, and she gently placed a hand over the spot, smiling softly. “I know, sweetie… Daddy’s just upset right now. Sometimes, even when Mommy did something before she was with him, it feels like it’s her fault.”

She sighed, her thoughts drifting to the conversation they’d had earlier. The weight of unspoken words and unresolved tension hung heavily in the air, mingling with the aroma of the meal she’d prepared.

Taking a deep breath, Rhea resolved to give Jey the space he seemed to need, hoping that time would help heal the rift between them. She knew that open communication was essential, but for now, she would wait for him to come to her when he was ready.

As she ate in silence, she couldn’t help but feel a pang of loneliness, the empty chair across from her a reminder of the distance that had grown between them. Yet, with each gentle movement from the life growing inside her, she found a renewed sense of hope and determination to navigate this challenging time together.

Jey walked down the steps, his movements deliberate as he approached the kitchen. He grabbed the plate Rhea had prepared for him and poured himself a glass of water. His steps were slow as he made his way to the table, where Rhea was already seated. He sat down across from her, his eyes focused on his meal, not saying a word.

Attempting to lighten the mood, Rhea offered a small smile and said, “I met with Kendrick Lamar today to discuss the music for your return.”

Jey’s eyes flickered up briefly, and he responded with a curt, “That’s good.” His tone was flat, and it was clear he wasn’t in the mood for conversation.

Rhea’s smile faltered, and she looked down at her plate, the weight of the silence between them pressing heavily on her chest. She took a deep breath, deciding to give him the space he seemed to need, hoping that time would help mend the rift between them.

As they ate in silence, the only sounds in the room were the clinking of utensils against plates and the occasional squeak from Bartholomew’s cage. The atmosphere was tense, each of them lost in their own thoughts, the earlier conversation still hanging heavily in the air.

After finishing his meal, Jey stood up, taking his plate to the sink without a word. He glanced at Rhea briefly, his expression unreadable, before turning and heading back upstairs, leaving Rhea alone with her thoughts and the lingering tension between them.

Rhea sighed softly, her hand instinctively moving to her stomach, seeking comfort in the life growing within her.

—

9:48 PM

Rhea brushed her damp hair slowly, her reflection in the mirror revealing the storm of emotions she had been trying to suppress all evening. Her eyes lingered on her baby bump, and she took a deep breath. Jey was her partner, her love, the father of her child—and the distance between them tonight felt unbearable. If they didn’t talk now, when would they?

Determined to bridge the gap, she slipped into a black babydoll that hugged her body in all the right places, accentuating her shoulders and allowing her growing belly to be beautifully visible. She knew Jey couldn’t resist her in this; she was banking on that soft spot in his heart to bring him closer. She walked to the bed with a quiet confidence, though her heart was racing.

Jey looked up as she entered the room, his eyes instantly drawn to her. His gaze softened as he took her in, but there was still a hint of the tension from earlier lingering on his face.

“You’re making it hard,” Jey muttered, a faint smirk pulling at the corners of his lips despite himself.

“Good,” Rhea replied softly, climbing into bed beside him. She pressed her hands against his chest, urging him to wrap his arms around her. “Hold me, baby.”

Jey didn’t hesitate, pulling her close and resting his chin on the top of her head. The warmth of his embrace made Rhea feel safe, but she knew they couldn’t let this moment pass without addressing what had been left unsaid.

“I just want us to be okay,” she whispered, her voice steady despite the lump in her throat. “I want to be honest with you, Jey, but I can’t do that if I’m afraid of how you’ll react.”

Jey’s arms tightened slightly around her, his chest rising and falling in a deep sigh. “I love you, Demi,” he said, his voice low and serious. “I always have. But hearing about Morris—it messed with me. It’s not even about him. It’s just… I hate the idea of you being with anyone else, even before me.”

Rhea pulled back slightly to look into his eyes, her own filled with understanding. “I get it. I really do. But Jey, my past isn’t something I can erase, and it’s not something I’m proud of. It’s just… there. A part of me. But that doesn’t change how much I love you and only you.”

Jey nodded, though his jaw was still tight. “I know that. I do. But it’s hard, you know? I’m not trying to hold it against you—it’s just the thought of it… it’s eating at me.”

Rhea reached up and cupped his face, her thumbs gently brushing his cheekbones. “Then let’s deal with it together. Talk to me when you’re upset. Let it out. Don’t hold it in and let it fester, Jey. That’s not what we do, is it?”

He shook his head, his expression softening further. “No. That’s not what we do.”

“Exactly,” she said, leaning forward to press a kiss to his forehead. “Our pasts are just that—the past. Let’s focus on what’s ahead of us: our future, our baby. That’s what matters.”

Jey exhaled deeply, finally letting some of the tension in his shoulders go. “You’re right. I don’t want to let this ruin what we’ve got. I don’t want old ghosts messing with us. It’s just… I needed time to sort it out in my head.”

“And I get that,” Rhea said. “But you have to promise me something.”

“Anything,” Jey replied, his hands resting on her hips.

“Promise me you’ll tell me how you’re feeling—good or bad. Don’t shut me out. That’s all I ask.”

“I promise,” Jey said firmly, his eyes locking with hers. “I’ll do better. For us.”

Rhea smiled, the tension in the room dissipating as they leaned into each other. “I love you,” she murmured.

“I love you too,” he replied, pressing a kiss to her lips.

In that moment, as they lay intertwined, the weight of the earlier tension seemed to lift. They both knew their journey wasn’t perfect, but their commitment to each other was unwavering. Together, they would face whatever came next.

Jey kissed Rhea softly, his lips moving slowly as if he wanted to savor in her lips. He pulled back slowly, gazing into her eyes with an intensity that made her heart skip a few beats. There was a quiet tenderness between them, one that spoke volumes without the need for words.

“So, have you thought about any names for Baby Boy Fatu?” Jey asked, his voice soft, filled with love and curiosity.

Rhea, still basking in the warmth of his embrace, ran her hand over her baby bump with a thoughtful smile. “I like Jeyson,” she said, her eyes meeting his, her voice carrying a sense of certainty.

Jey’s face lit up with a wide smile, his eyes twinkling with affection as he took in the name. “How do you spell that one?” he asked, his tone playful but full of admiration.

“J-E-Y-S-O-N,” Rhea replied, her voice gentle as she repeated the name, feeling it roll off her tongue. She loved how it felt, how it connected them. “It just feels right.”

Jey nodded, his smile growing as he processed the name. “I like it,” he said, his voice thick with emotion. “Jeyson Fatu. That’s our son. Sounds like a champion already.”

Rhea smiled, feeling the warmth of his words settle deep in her heart. It was a feeling she couldn’t quite put into words, the way he made everything feel possible, the way he made her feel like the luckiest woman alive. “I’m glad you like it,” she whispered, her voice carrying a mix of love and relief.

Jey leaned in, pressing his forehead against hers, their noses brushing lightly. “I’m always gonna love whatever you choose, Demi. This little one—he’s already everything to me. He’s gonna be perfect, just like you.”

Rhea felt the familiar flutter in her chest at his words. Every time Jey spoke, every time he looked at her, it was as if her world brightened. He had this way of making her feel seen, cherished, and understood in a way that no one else ever could. She leaned into him, wrapping her arms around him, holding him close as if she never wanted to let go. “I feel the same way about you,” she whispered against his chest. “You and Jeyson are my world. I’ll always be here for you, no matter what.”

Jey tightened his arms around her, the deep sense of connection between them palpable. He kissed the top of her head gently, his voice soft and filled with emotion. “You know, I’ve been through a lot in my life, but nothing has ever felt as right as this. You and me, Demi… and now Jeyson. This is what I’ve always wanted, what I never knew I needed.”

Rhea pulled back just enough to look up at him, her eyes shining with the same love that he always gave her. “I never knew, either, until I met you. But you—you make everything feel so complete. I don’t know what I’d do without you, Jey.”

—

Flashback – December 25th, 2019

The soft hum of the Christmas lights cast a warm glow in the cramped two-bedroom apartment Rhea shared with Demetri. She watched him tear open the neatly wrapped box she had handed him, her heart eager for his reaction. Inside was a sleek pair of Vans, a style she knew he had been eyeing for months.

“Thank you, babe!” Demetri grinned, leaning over to kiss her. His lips were warm, but something about the gesture felt mechanical, lacking the spark she once cherished.

Before she could revel in the moment, Demetri’s phone vibrated loudly against the coffee table. He glanced at the screen, his face tightening. “Give me a sec,” he muttered, standing and disappearing into the hallway to answer the call.

Rhea sat back, her smile fading, and turned to Dustin, who was still perched on the couch, sifting through his own modest pile of gifts. “Did you like your Christmas gifts?” she asked, hoping to distract herself from the uneasy feeling growing in her chest.

“Yeah,” Dustin replied, but his voice was hollow, his gaze fixed on the floor.

Rhea frowned, leaning forward. “What’s wrong?” she pressed gently.

Dustin shrugged, his expression hardening. “It’s just… another holiday where I have to go back to my mom’s after this,” he said, his tone laced with quiet bitterness.

“I’m sorry,” Rhea said softly, her heart aching for him. But before she could say more, Dustin cut her off, his voice rising with frustration.

“Don’t even try,” he snapped, his eyes meeting hers for the first time. “He could take you in, but he can’t take me in. What does that say about me?”

Rhea’s throat tightened. She opened her mouth to respond, but the weight of his words left her speechless. Dustin shook his head and stood abruptly, retreating to the other bedroom without another glance. The door closed with a muted thud, leaving Rhea alone with her swirling thoughts.

A few minutes later, Demetri returned, his phone still in his hand. “I have to go see Morris,” he said, his tone clipped.

Rhea frowned, her unease deepening. “About what?”

“It actually doesn’t concern you, believe it or not,” Demetri replied sharply as he grabbed his coat and keys. Without waiting for a response, he walked out, leaving Rhea sitting in stunned silence.

That night, the apartment felt colder than usual. The joy of Christmas was long gone, replaced by a gnawing emptiness that settled in Rhea’s chest. She spent hours staring at the Christmas tree, its twinkling lights mocking the loneliness she felt.

12:31 AM

The soft glow of a bedside lamp illuminated the room where Demetri and Valerie lay tangled in a sea of tangled sheets. Valerie leaned on one elbow, her fingers lazily tracing patterns on Demetri’s chest. There was a mischievous glint in her eyes as she spoke.

“I’ve missed you so much,” Valerie murmured, her voice a seductive purr.

Demetri smirked, his hand trailing over her bare shoulder. “I did too,” he replied smoothly before shifting the topic. “What happened with Charles? Why’d you come back so early?”

Valerie let out a throaty laugh, tossing her long hair over one shoulder. “Morris wanted him to teach me all that crap he taught you and Mamba. Hated every second of it,” she admitted with an exaggerated roll of her eyes.

Demetri chuckled, his grin widening. “Maybe it’s because you don’t like people telling you what to do,” he teased, his voice dripping with amusement.

Valerie sighed dramatically, her tone turning venomous. “I just wish someone would put Charles out of his misery already. I mean, come on—55 years old and still teaching Morris’ ‘love interests.’” She arched a brow and gave Demetri a pointed look. “Which begs the question… you’re not a love interest, are you?”

Demetri burst out laughing, his shoulders shaking as he threw his head back. “At one point, he considered me a son,” he admitted, the laughter still lingering in his voice.

Valerie tilted her head, curiosity sparking in her eyes. “What changed?” she asked, her tone quieter now, more serious.

Demetri’s smile faded slightly, his gaze growing distant. “I brought Mamba in,” he said simply. “After that, Morris focused all his effort on her. She became his new project, and I was… pushed aside.”

Valerie studied him for a moment, a smirk tugging at her lips. “Well, that’s Morris for you. Always moving on to the next shiny thing.”

Demetri shrugged, his expression unreadable. “It is what it is,” he said, his tone resigned.

Valerie leaned in closer, her lips brushing against his ear. “You’ve always been more than just a ‘shiny thing,’ Demetri,” she whispered, her voice a soft caress.

Demetri turned his head to meet her gaze, a flicker of something—regret, maybe—passing through his eyes. But before he could respond, Valerie pressed her lips to his, silencing whatever words had been forming.

For a brief moment, the world outside the dirty motel room faded away, leaving only the two of them and the tangled mess of their shared history.

—

7:36 AM

The next morning, the sound of the front door opening jolted her awake. Demetri walked in, his expression unreadable, and headed straight past her toward Dustin’s room. But as he passed, Rhea caught the faint but unmistakable scent of vanilla perfume lingering in the air. Her stomach turned. She didn’t wear vanilla perfume.

Demetri knocked on the bedroom door. “Dustin, come on. Get your gifts. I gotta take you to Mom’s,” he called out.

Rhea stood from the couch, her fists clenching at her sides. “Where did you go?” she demanded, her voice low but trembling with anger.

Demetri didn’t even glance at her. “I told you—I went to Morris’,” he said casually, as if the lie wasn’t written all over his face.

“Really?” Rhea spat, her voice rising. “Then why the fuck do you smell like Valerie?”

The words hung in the air like a thunderclap, and before Rhea could process what was happening, Demetri’s hand lashed out, the sharp sting of his slap making her stumble back.

“You don’t get to talk to me about what I do behind your back,” he hissed, his voice cold and venomous.

Rhea’s hand flew to her cheek, tears stinging her eyes as the betrayal sank in. Motherfucker…

Dustin emerged from his room, his arms full of gifts, his eyes darting nervously between them. He didn’t say a word as he followed Demetri out of the apartment, leaving Rhea standing alone in the silence once more.

—

11:21 AM

Valerie sat stiffly, her eyes locked on Morris as he loomed over her with a look of cold disdain. His voice was sharp, cutting through the silence with venom.

“You say you want to be more than just my pleasure toy?” Morris began, his tone low and mocking. “You say you want to be part of my shipments? Work with Mamba? You say you want all these nice things, all these great opportunities… but what do you do?”

Valerie clenched her jaw, her lips pressed into a thin line. She didn’t respond, didn’t flinch.

Morris leaned closer, his voice rising. “You give up after three months. Three months! Mamba? She had less time, less chances, and mastered everything I taught her. But you?” He gestured at her dismissively. “You’re nothing but excuses.”

Valerie’s eyes flashed with defiance. “Well, I’m not your precious Mamba, now am I?” she spat, her voice laced with venom.

Morris straightened up, his face darkening as he stepped toward her menacingly. The room seemed to grow colder as his shadow fell over her.

“Consider yourself done,” he said with finality.

Valerie’s defiance faltered for the briefest moment. “What do you mean?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

Morris chuckled, the sound cold and merciless. “I mean, I don’t have a use for you anymore. You’re out. The only I will need you is when I need a quick fix. That’s all you’re good for now.”

Valerie shot to her feet, her voice trembling with anger. “You’ll regret this.”

Morris tilted his head, a cruel smirk spreading across his face. “Oh? Are you threatening me?”

Valerie’s hands clenched into fists. “I’m going to tell Demetri,” she hissed, her eyes narrowing. “I’m going to tell him you’ve been screwing Rhea.”

Morris laughed, the sound echoing in the room like a dark symphony. “And I know you’ve been screwing Demetri,” he shot back without missing a beat, his smirk growing wider.

Valerie froze, her breath catching in her throat.

Morris leaned in, his voice dropping to a deadly whisper. “Why do you think I don’t care when you leave? Why do you think I don’t chase after you? You’re nothing to me, Valerie. Nothing.”

Her confidence crumbled under the weight of his words, and she felt the sting of humiliation settle in her chest. She tried to keep her face composed, but the lump in her throat betrayed her.

Morris straightened, brushing invisible dust from his suit as if the conversation bored him. “Now get out of my sight,” he said dismissively, turning his back to her.

Valerie stood frozen, her mind racing with emotions—anger, humiliation, and a simmering desire for revenge. But for now, she did as she was told. She turned and walked out of the room, the door clicking shut behind her.

As she made her way down the dimly lit hallway, Valerie muttered under her breath, “You’ll regret this, Morris. You’ll regret all of it.”

—

April 5th, 2022

The room was dimly lit, with the cold fluorescent light flickering slightly above the steel table. Valerie sat stiffly in the chair, her hands resting on the edge of the table, fingers tapping anxiously. Across from her, an FBI agent slid a stack of papers across the table, his expression calm but scrutinizing.

“These are the list of names involved in this operation?” the agent asked, his voice steady but probing.

Valerie glanced at the papers before nodding, her face neutral, betraying none of the turmoil beneath the surface. “Yes,” she replied.

The agent leaned back in his chair, studying her. “We’ve heard of another person involved, nicknamed the Black Mamba. Any idea who that could be?”

Valerie froze for the briefest moment, her heart skipping a beat, but she quickly masked her reaction. “No,” she said, shaking her head. “No idea.”

The agent’s gaze lingered on her, as though he could see right through her. He tapped his pen against the table before nodding, as if accepting her answer—for now.

“And in exchange for your cooperation,” he continued, flipping through the papers, “you want full relocation services to Phoenix?”

Valerie nodded again, her voice steady despite the knot forming in her stomach. “Yes. I want a fresh start.”

The agent slid a pen across the table toward her. “Okay,” he said, his tone formal. “Sign here.”

Valerie hesitated for a fraction of a second before picking up the pen. Her hand hovered over the paper, her mind racing. This was it. The decision that would change everything. Her past, her alliances, her future—it all rested on this signature.

As the pen hit the paper, she signed her name with a flourish, sealing her deal with the government.

The agent took the papers and stood up, collecting them into a neat stack. “You’ve made the right choice,” he said, giving her a curt nod before walking to the door.

Valerie sat back in her chair, exhaling deeply as the weight of her decision settled on her shoulders. She whispered to herself, “Fresh start… fresh lies.”

—

May 31st, 2022 Flashback

The sun dipped below the horizon, casting long shadows over the cemetery as Dustin stood frozen, his eyes glued to the hole in the earth. The coffin containing his older brother, Demetri, was now out of sight, but the weight of its presence crushed him. His hands trembled as he clenched them into fists, trying to hold back the tears that burned in his eyes.

His mother had gently touched his shoulder before leaving earlier, offering a hollow “Take your time,” but Dustin barely registered it. His father, as distant as ever, had left without a word. They didn’t grieve for Demetri—not like Dustin did.

The world saw Demetri as nothing more than a drug dealer, a man who lived and died in violence. But to Dustin, he was more than that. He was his brother—the man who protected him when no one else would, who made sure he had food to eat when their parents didn’t care.

He didn’t know how long he stood there, staring at the freshly packed dirt. The air grew cooler, and the sounds of the city faded as night crept in. The silence was broken by the sound of footsteps behind him.

Dustin turned to see a woman approaching, her figure barely illuminated by the dim streetlights surrounding the cemetery. She was tall, with dark, striking features that seemed both familiar and out of place.

“I knew your brother,” she said, her voice soft but steady.

Dustin squinted at her. “How?” he asked, his voice hoarse from hours of silence.

Valerie hesitated for a moment, folding her arms across her chest. “We worked together,” she said finally, her words heavy with unspoken meaning.

Dustin’s brow furrowed. “You mean… in his business?”

Valerie nodded slowly, her expression unreadable. “Yes.”

Dustin’s breath hitched, and he turned back toward the grave. “Do you know how he died?” he asked, his voice trembling. “My parents… they haven’t told me anything. They just said it’s done. That’s all.”

There was a long pause before Valerie answered, her voice quieter now. “She killed him,” she said, her words laced with bitterness.

Dustin spun around to face her, his eyes wide. “Who?”

Valerie took a deep breath, her gaze locking with his. “Rhea,” she lied. “It was self-defense… or at least, that’s what she says.”

Dustin staggered back a step, as though the words had struck him physically. “No,” he whispered, shaking his head. “No, that’s not true.”

Valerie stepped closer, her voice growing firmer. “It is. I was there. She did it. Your brother may not have been perfect, but he didn’t deserve that.” She lied again.

Tears spilled down Dustin’s cheeks as he stared at her, his heart shattering into pieces. He couldn’t reconcile the brother he loved with the story Valerie was telling. Nor could he actually believe that Rhea would kill Demetri.

“Why are you telling me this?” Dustin asked, his voice breaking.

“Because you deserve to know the truth,” Valerie said. “And because no one else will tell you.”

Dustin turned back toward the grave, his shoulders slumping under the weight of her words. The night stretched on, heavy and suffocating, as he stood there, grappling with a truth he didn’t want to believe.

[ohcheezusitsevie]

Evie's Quacktacular Spectacular Celebration (A Competition for No Reason)

Ducks are beautiful(Tommy: Oh, dear God...). And I wanted to celebrate their existence. January 19th is National Duck Day and January 13th is National Rubber Ducky Day...which is bull shit! Everyday, under Evie, is duck day. Why? Because there is nothing greater than a duck and a slab of cheese...man, I love cheese, too. Cheese goes with everything. And ducks? Man's best friend(Tommy: That is a dog, Evie, a dog). IN EVIE LAND...ducks are a man's best friend......Anyway, let's look at 5 great things about ducks!

Any questions so far?! (Finn: What planet are you from?). Daddy! (Tommy: Finn, we know Evie is...different, but let's just get on with it, eh....). Okay, good...any questions about DUCKS? (John: they go well with a nice fig sauce. Arthur: I do like a nice roasted duck...). We don't eat ducks in Evie land! Anyway, seeing as we don't have a single intelligent thought among us about the slide show...I'm moving on......

To celebrate the beauty of ducks, I will host a competition. It is not a serious one, but just something silly for laughs. Anyone in the Peaky Blinders fandom can contribute, whether or not they follow my story. :) As long as you are 18 and over. None of the sections are overly strenuous or hard, but all three are incredibly silly. Please enjoy and there will be prizes! You can join all three, but you cannot submit more than one submission per a game. :) All entries must be submitted by Friday, January 3rd at 8:00pm EST. All winners will be announced Saturday, January 4th at 8:00pm EST. Some Rules: ---> You can enter all three games, but you can only submit once per a game. You can win a spot in all three, but you can't win #1 in more than one.

---> You don't have to follow Novashelby or ohcheezusitsevie, but all submissions have to be submitted to ohcheezusitsevie. You want to submit it through the ask box and you can't be on anon!

---> For the drawing, it has to be YOUR OWN. For the joke, you can use a previously published one, just tell me where you got it.

In game one, you will submit a little drawing that you did of a duck. You are probably wondering to yourself, I CAN'T DRAW. And guess what? You should still do it because it is funny and for fun. I am not judging on accuracy or artistic skills. I am judging solely on how much I smiled and giggled. :) This drawing doesn't have to take fancy art supplies or a lot of time. Just a pencil is fine! Prizes: -> There are 3 winners spots and so, there are 3 prices. ->1st Place: You will win a 1,000 word one-shot. Nova, my creator, will write anything of your choosing within the Peaky Blinders Fandom. It can be an OTP, smut, fluff, Y/N, and so on and so forth. ->2nd Place: You will win an 800 word one shot that abides by the same rules as above. -> 3rd Place: You will win a 500 word One Shot that abides by the same criteria as above!

This one is really silly! And kind of a lie because...there are no ugly ducks(Finn: Really? I can name one-OW!). Ignore him, he's insignificant. In this game, you will find the "ugliest" duck picture you find and submit it. The one that makes me snort my choccy milk out of my nose the hardest, wins. These pictures should be kind to the ducks...obviously nothing that shows abuse or neglect. We don't like that in Evie land. And no ducks with fig sauce on it, either....(John: ☹️). Prizes:

->There will be three winners, and so there will be three prizes.

-> 1st Place: You will win a Moodboard of your chosen theme, and Nova will surprise you with a 200 word drabble. ->2nd Place: You will win a Moodboard of your chosen theme, and Nova will surprise you with a 100 word drabble. -> 3rd Place: You will win a Moodboard with a 50 word drabble of your choice.

For this game, you can either send in an original joke or the funniest one you find. They have to be duck oriented, but no jokes about abuse or eating ducks. :( Only duck friendly jokes. If you get it from elsewhere, you should tell me where. :) And the joke that makes daddy laugh the most, wins. (Tommy: what?! Evie, you can't just subject people to things...I did not agree to this. Am I being compensated?). And that will be hard, considering Daddy hasn't laughed since 1914.....I'll give him some whiskey before...

Prizes:

-> There will be three winners and three prizes!

->1st Place: 350 word drabble of your chosen themes and characters. -> 2nd Place: 250 word drabble of the same criteria as above. ->3rd Place: 150 word drabble of the same criteria as above!

Well, that's it for now folks! I urge everyone to join whether or not they are familiar with me. :) It is all for silly laughs and fun, and Miss. Nova just wants people to have a good time. There is no need to follow or be following Nova or me. Remember, all submissions should be entered here at this blog, not Novashelby. If you have any questions, remember to ask them at this blog as well. :) Remember, adhere to the deadlines and rules.

Have fun my ducky friends!

[whatwooshkai]

25!

"Congratulations on graduating, I guess."

Heatwave takes a swig of the bottle of high grade and passes it to Blades, who wipes off the top before taking a drink. Chase stares at them balefully.

"I am now an officer of the law-" he starts, but Heatwave waves a hand in his face.

"Not yet, you aren't," he tells him, taking the bottle back from Boulder for another swig. "That's tomorrow. Day one of the rest of our lives, fellas." He offers the bottle to Chase. "Just enjoy yourself, mech."

Chase frowns, doorwings down and finials pinned back. Finally, he sighs and takes the bottle, producing a rag of his own to clean the top. "Alright."

"Attaboy." Heatwave leans back.

"You aren't even a real enforcer," Blades points out, flopping back between Heatwave and Boulder. "You're 'enforcer-adjacent'."

"You're a Rescue Bot," Boulder pipes up, taking the bottle from Chase, then handing to Blades. "We all are. Don't think to hard about the details."

"Damn straight," Heatwave agrees, nudging Boulder's pede with his own.

Chase sighs again, then scoots over to join the pile on Heatwave's other side, accepting the bottle when it's passed back to him.

It's peaceful as they finish the first bottle and get well through the second- up until Heatwave pulls out a cygar.

"What are you doing?" Chase demands, but his voice slurs a little.

Heatwave grins. "Smokin'."

Chase narrows his optics. "This is a non-smoking building."

Heatwave's grin gets bigger. "Whatcha gonna do, arrest me?"

Chase stares at him like he's genuinely considering it.

"Do it," Blades jeers, from where he's been building an impressively intricate card tower on Boulder's chassis. The mech in question is holding so still Heatwave feels the need to poke them every five or so minutes, just to make sure they aren't dead. "Arrest him for being, uh, fuck, um, not funny. Yeah."

"In that case-" Heatwave hiccups, then downs the rest of the bottle in one go. "In that case, arrest us all! But then you'd uh, damn, uh, you'd fuck up the card tower. And that shit's illegal."

"Is it?" Chase's expression is wide open and horrified, doorwings flicking agitatedly.

"Yes, definitely," Blades tells him. "Pass the cygar."

Heatwave reaches around the card tower, and Blades takes the cygar and starts puffing on it like he was a bot that had seen too much. Heatwave knows deep in his spark he's not getting that back.

By the time they've worked their way through five of the bottles, Blades has built his card tower so tightly to the ceiling that Boulder is now stuck beneath it, and they cannot figure out how to get them out. Chase passed out trying, leaving Blades and Heatwave to lean against the two of them, sharing the last bottle and smoking the last cygar.

"You think things will stay like this forever?" Blades asks.

"Hell no," Heatwave mutters around the cygar. The room has taken on an odd haze from them smoking, and even the windows open to vent it hasn't properly dissipated it. "This is the last of our academy days. Now we gotta like, fuck, work 'n shit."

"Not what I meant," Blades mutters. "You're all not gonna die or whatever, right?"

Heatwave frowns, trying to wrap his helm around the question, or at least make up some kind of reassuring answer. "Nah," he settles on. "I won't let us. And... uh, Chase would arrest us."

"He'd find a way," Blades agrees. "Yeah."

"Yeah."

They don't really remember the conversation in the morning.

[submattenthusiast]

jules I’m obsessed with this au, professor!reader catching nerd!chris in the library at a pretty late time. what’s his reaction?

procrastination has stuck with you all throughout college and even now as a professor; its your worst habit. this habit that's causing you to be in the library late at night— planning your lesson for next class, which happens to be tomorrow. the library was dimly lit and the one of the only light sources seemed to be the bright light in the study room you booked.

the presentation was coming out decently and you were at a good point to leave the rest for tomorrow, so you decided to pack it up. gathering your pens and shutting your laptop after saving everything you sigh before heading towards the door. your hands ghosted over the doorknob while you looked around for any forgotten materials. in the midst of looking you see a familiar figure with his nose buried in a book.

"christopher? what are you doing here so late" you whisper, leaning down closer while trying not to startle him. the sudden voice in the eerily silent space gave him whiplash with the way his head jerked, his blue eyes met yours in shock as he stared at you. with his silence you examined him closely. his cheeks tinted a pink shade and his leg bounced under the table as he racked his mind for an excuse of being at the library so late. "oh hello ma'am — i was u-um studying and i lost track of time i guess" he whispered with a evident blush.

you smiled to yourself at his politeness and the slight stutter. you sensed the nervousness from a mile away. with your intense staring you noticed his eyes fighting to stay focused on your face. with your upper half being closer to him, your shirt got tighter and your boobs practically spilled out of your shirt. your cleavage would soon turn into a nipple flash. eyes quickly betrayed him though as he took a good look at your sleek black bra. shamelessly. "it's pretty late isn't it? would you like to walk out together?" you asked, motioning towards the empty library.

the silence after your non rhetorical question had you confused, so you looked at the oddly silent boy to see what was up. "christopher?" you try. his eyes frantically looked around the room and he adjusted his black glasses at the break of focus. "huh oh um y-yes ma'am i'd like that a lot" he stuttered. his face was embarrassingly red as he attempted to look normal after staring at his professors boobs and almost being caught.

authors notes - i am glad you're liking it and thank you for this ask!!