#magic space elevator

[septemberlikestea]

my funniest hk opinion is that the white palace we visit is exactly as it was in the waking world. the saws were there.

[kvroii]

College classes ended early today for the weather after all, so I have been working on my manga display.

[ofdreamsanddoodles]

have an idea for a high fantasy novel where one of the characters has like. no idea of the outside world & now i keep on thinking about another character mentioning something that definitely should not exist yet & her going "wait what's that?" & them just... not elaborating. does this universe really have panic at the disco, or is that just a very strange coincidence? good luck figuring it out, because that's never gonna come up again!

[great-master-airplane]

I was given a castle, and I immediately abandoned the plot and started collecting stars of destiny like pokemon

[melagerie]

I am rereading Sourcery for the first time in a real long while and I’m so so locked on in on Rincewind

[lupinqs]

SANTA BABY ━━ wnba!paige bueckers x reader

𝜗𝜚 ━ summary: during your christmas trip to NYC, you have a surprise waiting for paige back at the hotel.

𝜗𝜚 ━ word count: 4.9K

𝜗𝜚 ━ warnings: sexual content (munch p, scissoring)

𝜗𝜚 ━ links: my masterlist

𝜗𝜚 ━ author’s note: my christmas eve gift to y’all …. it was almost taken away tho because of that usc game ask the gc man i was crashing out

THE CITY is buzzing even at this hour, cold wind cutting through the streets as Paige makes her way back to the hotel. She tugs her coat tighter around herself, her hands jammed into her pockets to ward off the sting of the December chill. New York City is magical this time of year, but it’s also freezing, and she can’t wait to get back to the suite, where it’s warm—and more importantly, where you are.

This trip has been a mix of business and pleasure. She had a couple of sponsorship obligations to knock out and a media appearance scheduled for tomorrow, but mostly, it’s just an excuse to spend a few uninterrupted days with you. Both of your schedules have been so hectic lately—hers with the grind of off-season and the stress of Unrivaled about to start, and yours with work—and carving out this time feels like a luxury. It’s the last weekend before Christmas, and since you’re both gonna be spending the holiday with your families together, this is your time to celebrate just the two of you.

Paige hurries into the hotel, rubbing her hands together as she steps into the elevator. She flexes her fingers, still stiff from gripping a basketball for hours during her workout with Stewie and Sabrina. She promised you that she wouldn’t let it run late, and, as she glances at her phone to see the time, she’s satisfied that she fulfilled it.

Her sneakers hit the polished floor with soft thuds as she unlocks the door to the suite. The space is lavish, the kind of indulgence she spent because one, it’s the holidays, and two, she wanted this weekend to be perfect for the two of you. The warmth of the suite embraces her immediately, the city’s chill feeling miles away here. She shrugs off her coat, tossing it over the couch, and kicks off her sneakers.

“Baby, I’m back!” she calls, her voice echoing faintly in the spacious suite. When she came in, she assumed that you’d be in the living room, curled up on the couch with a blanket and whatever Netflix show you’ve been binge-watching. But the living room is empty, the TV off.

Her brows furrow as she looks around, scanning for signs of you. “You in the bedroom?” she calls out, though there’s still no answer. Her pulse picks up, not in worry, but in curiosity. She hums, wondering where you’re hiding.

The hallway feels quiet as she moves down it, pushing open the door to the bedroom. The sight that greets her makes her stop dead in her tracks, feet planted in the doorway.

The lights are dim, the warm glow casting a soft, golden hue across the room. A bottle of wine sits on the nightstand, one glass already poured and in your hand. But it’s you that holds her attention, that makes her brain short-circuit entirely.

You’re sprawled out on the bed, leaning back against the pillows with a smirk that could stop traffic. And you’re wearing—Paige feels her throat go dry—this tiny, ridiculously sexy Christmas lingerie set. The red satin clings to you in all the right places, barely covering what it’s meant to, and the white fur trim is so playful, so sinful, she doesn’t know whether to laugh or groan. The ribbon on the front of your bra is tied in a neat little bow, teasingly undone just enough to look like you’d barely bothered. The matching panties sit high on your hips, connected to sheer thigh-high stockings by the tiniest garters she’s ever seen.

She doesn’t even realize she’s standing completely still until you grin at her, your voice playful and sweet as you say, “Hi, baby.”

Paige blinks, her brain struggling to catch up as she stares at you. Her heart is pounding, adrenaline giving way to something much more visceral. The way you’re looking at her, the way the light catches the curve of your body—it’s like she’s seeing you for the first time all over again. She lets out a low, shaky breath, her hand running through her hair as her eyes continue to rove over your figure. Her stomach constricts, her whole body coiled so tight she’s not sure if she wants to drop to her knees or throw herself at you. Maybe both.

“Fuck, ma,” she finally manages, her voice low and husky as she steps forward. Her hands flex instinctively, wanting to touch you, needing to touch you. “You tryna kill me?”

You giggle, the sound light and sweet, but the glint in your eyes is anything but innocent. “No,” you say, tilting your head slightly as you take a slow sip from your wine glass. Your smirk widens, and Paige swears her knees almost buckle.

She exhales sharply, inching closer to the bed. “You look…” Her voice trails off, her gaze roaming over you like she’s trying to memorize every inch of your body. “Jesus, baby, you look insane.”

You’re still grinning as she reaches the edge of the bed, her hands resting on the mattress as she leans down slightly, bringing her face level with yours. Her pulse races, her body buzzing with anticipation as her eyes lock with yours. “You did this for me?” she asks softly, though she already knows the answer.

“Who else?” you ask, grinning, your voice a teasing lilt that makes Paige’s chest tighten. You set your wine glass down on the nightstand, your eyes never leaving hers.

Paige is already leaning forward, her hands sliding to your thighs, the warmth of your skin and the delicate fabric of your lingerie making her head spin. “You’re gon’ be the death of me,” she murmurs, shaking her head a little as her lips brush against yours lightly, hands tightening on your legs. And God, if this is how she goes, she’ll thank you for it.

Her lips finally lock onto yours, slow at first, like she’s savoring the moment. The kiss is soft, tender, but there’s an edge to it—like she’s holding herself back, barely. Her hands tighten on your thighs, sliding higher, the heat of your skin burning through the thin satin, and she swears she feels you shiver beneath her touch.

You kiss her back, your arms looping around her neck to pull her closer, and that’s all the invitation Paige needs. She shifts, climbing onto the bed, her knees sinking into the mattress as she presses herself against you. The warmth of your body sends a rush of heat through her, and she deepens the kiss, her tongue brushing against yours as she loses herself in the taste of you.

“You’re fuckin’ unreal,” she murmurs against your mouth, her voice barely above a whisper but heavy with meaning. Her lips leave yours only to trail down your jaw, pressing soft, open-mouthed kisses along the curve of your neck.

Her hands roam as her mouth works. One slides up to cup the back of your neck, her thumb brushing over your jaw to tilt your head just the way she likes. The other settles firmly on your hip, her grip strong enough to keep you exactly where she wants you, though her fingers twitch like she’s desperate to touch you everywhere at once.

The scent of you—the faint lotion you always wear, mixed with the wine you’ve been drinking—fills her senses, and Paige feels drunk on it, drunk on you. Her lips find the sensitive spot just below your ear, and when she hears the soft, breathy sound you make in response, it sends a jolt of electricity straight through her.

“Damn,” she mutters, her teeth grazing your skin lightly before she soothes the spot with her tongue.

Your hands tug at the hem of her long-sleeve shirt, and she sits back just enough to let you pull it over her head. You toss it somewhere behind her, leaving her in her sports bra. Her abs flex slightly in the cool air, but the way your eyes roam over her makes her feel anything but cold. She watches you, her chest heaving, her pupils blown wide as you reach out to touch her, your hands sliding over her shoulders and down her torso, leaving a trail of fire in their wake.

And then she’s diving back in, her kisses lower now, lips finding the delicate line of your collarbone, pressing open-mouthed kisses there like she’s starving for you—which, she is. Her tongue darts out to taste your skin, her teeth scraping against you enough to leave you shivering. She feels your fingers tangle in her hair, undoing her ponytail as you pull her closer. Her breath quickens slightly, chest heaving with just how much she wants you.

Her fingers find the ribbon on your bra, tugging at it gently as her lips brush over the swell of your cleavage. “This,” she mutters, her voice muffled against your skin, “is fucking killin’ me.” She pulls back just enough to look at you, her thumb brushing over the satin. “You tied it so pretty for me, huh? Knowing I’d lose my damn mind?”

You laugh softly, breathily, fingers tangling further in her hair. “Maybe.”

“Slut,” Paige mutters, grinning as she tugs the bow loose with one sharp pull, letting the fabric fall open, your perky tits popping out of it. Her breath catches as she sees you fully now, blue eyes darkening with something heavy, something primal.

“Goddamn, mama,” she breathes, her hands sliding along your sides, thumbs brushing over your ribs. She leans down again, her lips brushing against the curve of your breast. “You’re so beautiful, so sexy, so perfect, baby. It ain’t even fair.”

And then her mouth closes around your nipple, her tongue swirling over the sensitive skin as she sucks gently, and the sound you make in response sends a jolt straight through her. She groans softly, her free hand sliding up to cup your other breast. She alternates between kisses and soft bites, her lips tugging gently at your nipple before soothing the spot with her tongue. Her breath is hot against your skin, and she presses closer, hips grinding against yours just a little as her mouth moves.

“Such perfect tits,” she murmurs against your cleavage, her teeth grazing you again as she switches to your other breast.

She licks a slow, careful path across your skin, savoring every inch of you as she begins to lower once more. Her mouth leaves a wet trail down your stomach, her tongue occasionally flicking out to taste the faint salt on your skin. Her hands slide down from your chest, settling on your waist. She grips the skin hard, pinching slightly. Her lips brush over the curve of your belly, then down to the soft plane just above your hips, like she’s mapping every part of you with her tongue.

She pauses for a moment, just long enough to lift her head and admire the way the red lace hugs your skin. The fabric is delicate, so inviting, it’s like it was made to drive her insane. The sheer material leaves almost nothing to her imagination, and the sight of it—of you and your perfect pussy—sends a rush of wetness to her own core.

She just shakes her head a little, as if in disbelief, before lowering again, her lips grazing the edge of the lace as her fingers grip your hips tighter. She can feel the heat radiating from you, the way your body tenses slightly beneath her, the way you say her name, and it makes her head spin.

Her tongue flicks out, tracing the edge of the fabric, teasing. She presses a kiss just below your navel, then another, breath warm. “You got any idea what you’re doin’ to me, baby?” she asks slowly.

You don’t even get the opportunity to answer before her teeth catch the edge of your panties lightly, tugging just enough to make you gasp. And then she lets it snap back into place with a soft, playful grin. She glances up at you, eyes dark and blazing, blonde hair falling into her face as she leans closer again. The way you look back at her—pupils wide, lips parted, cheeks flushed—spurs her on.

Her lips hover just above the lace, and she kisses you there, slow and careful, her mouth pressing over the thin barrier like she can’t stand not to be closer. “So pretty,” she murmurs against you, her fingers brushing over the lace now, testing the material as her tongue flicks out once more, tasting you even through the fabric.

Her big hands slide from your waist to your thighs, spreading them just enough to give her room to work. Her teeth catch the edge of the waistband, tugging gently, and she groans low in her throat as the fabric gives way slightly under her pull.

“Fuck,” Paige mutters, and it’s muffled as she grips the lace between her teeth. She pauses just long enough for you to whimper, “Paige,” before she tugs again, this time pulling the panties down your hips with deliberate slowness.

She moves inch by inch, her teeth grading the lace lower, and she’s completely transfixed. The garters make her work for it, the straps pulling taut against the tension, but she doesn’t mind—if anything, it drives her wilder. Her lips slide along your skin as she works, kissing the sensitive spots where the panties leave a faint imprint.

As she reaches your thighs, Paige shifts, letting the fabric slide past her lips and catching it with her fingers instead. She tugs it the rest of the way down with her teeth again, dragging it along the curve of your legs, her mouth brushing your inner thighs as she goes.

When the panties finally slip off completely, Paige lets them drop from her teeth to the floor, her breath shallow as she grips your thighs, holding them apart. Her eyes rake over every inch of you—the way your face has gone bright pink in a flush, the way your tits peek from the opened lingerie top, the way your cunt is absolutely glistening for her.

She licks her lips slowly, the corner of her mouth curving into a smirk as her gaze flicks back up to your face. “Shit, mama,” she says lowly. “Look at you. Fuckin’ dripping for me.”

Paige doesn’t waste any more time. She slides down on her elbows, lowering herself between your legs, her mouth attaching to your clit with an intensity that makes you cry out. She sucks and licks with fervor, her tongue working you over with a skill that leaves both of your lungs aching, Paige’s face buried so deep in your folds she has to fight for air. The sensation is overwhelming, a delicious mix of pleasure and desperation that has you writhing beneath her, hips bucking.

“Babe… mmm, shit,” you whimper, voice trembling as you reach down to grasp at the sheets, knuckles white with the effort to hold on. You can barely keep your eyes open, pleasure so intense it’s nearly blinding. “Please, fuck, don’t stop.”

Paige has no intentions of stopping. She moans softly against your pussy, the vibrations sending shockwaves through your body. Her hands grip your thighs, holding you in place firmly as she devours you like a woman starved. Her tongue moves expertly, flicking and swirling across your clit before laying it flat, shaking her head from side to side messily, driving you closer and closer to the edge.

“Fuck, ma, you taste so good,” Paige groans, pulling away just long enough to let a glob of her spit land on your cunt. She leans back in, lapping it up, eyes rolling into the back of her head. “Could eat you out all night, baby…”

Your back arches off the bed at Paige’s words, causing the lingerie top to slide down your shoulders a little more. Your hips buck involuntarily as you chase the pleasure Paige gives you, one of your hands coming up to knead your own tit, mouth dropping open at the way Paige’s tongue slides along your wetness effortlessly. You’re desperate, every nerve ending in your body tingling with need. “Paige, baby, ‘M so close,” you choke out.

Paige only intensifies her efforts, her tongue flicking against your clit faster, her mouth working you over with an urgency that has you teetering on the edge. She’s relentless, giving you exactly what you need, pushing you closer and closer until you’re trembling, your thighs quivering around her head.

Just when you think you can’t take anymore, Paige pulls back slightly, her mouth leaving your clit. You let out a desperate whine at the loss, body screaming for more, but Paige is already moving. She slides two fingers inside you without warning, thrusting them in deep, hard, and fast. The sudden intrusion makes you gasp, hands flying to Paige’s shoulders as you cling to her, body trembling with the force of Paige’s thrusts.

“Mmm, mama,” the blonde breathes out lowly as she pumps her fingers into your cunt with a brutal pace, the slick sound of her digits moving in and out echoing in the otherwise quiet hotel room. “So fucking tight, so wet for me. Shit, baby.”

She glances up, gaze on you as your head falls back against the pillows, your eyes squeezing shut as you let out a strangled moan, hips moving to meet Paige’s thrusts. She feels a rush of wetness flood her own boxers and picks up the pace even more, the pleasure becoming overwhelming for you, a white-hot fire that consumes you from the inside you. “Paige, oh my God… holy shit…”

Paige leans in close, biting lightly at your inner thigh as she whispers, “Think you can take three, baby?”

She watches as your eyes fly open at the question, brows furrowing as you nod frantically. “Yes. Yeah, do it,” you force out breathlessly. “Please, P.”

Paige smirks at your reaction, but doesn’t need to be told twice. She pulls her fingers out briefly, adding a third finger before thrusting back inside, her movements deliberate and rough, stretching you out. Your hips buck up to meet Paige hand, chasing the pleasure. Paige scissors her fingers inside you, making you choke a little on your own whimper, nails digging into her skin, gripping the strap of her sports bra.

“Such a—God, you’re such a fuckin’ slut,” Paige groans, eyes locked onto your face, watching every single expression of pleasure that crosses your features. “Wearing that lingerie, knowing I’d lose my goddamn mind. Shit.”

Your entire body is one fire, senses overwhelmed by the combination of the relentless pace of Paige’s thrusts and the dirtiness that coats her words. You can feel every inch of Paige’s fingers inside you, can feel the way they stretch you, the way they hit that perfect spongy spot deep inside that makes you see stars. “Baby, you’re gonna make me cum. God, I’m—” You cut yourself off with a loud moan.

Paige leans forward, her mouth finding your clit again, tongue swirling slick circles over the sensitive nub as she continues to thrust her long fingers in and out, faster and harder, pushing you to the brink. “Shit, ma, do it,” she urges roughly, humming against you as she laps at your pussy. “Cum for me. Cum all fucking over me, mama.”

That’s all you need to hear. With a strangled cry, your entire body tenses, back arching off the bed as you come hard, walls clenching around Paige’s fingers, gushing against her face. The pleasure is blinding, overwhelming, and you can’t do anything but ride it out, body trembling uncontrollably as wave after wave of ecstasy crashes over you.

Paige keeps thrusting her fingers, lapping at your wetness lazily, riding out your orgasm with you. She prolongs the pleasure until you’re nothing but a quivering, panting mess beneath her. When your body finally goes limp, Paige slowly withdraws her fingers, leaning down to press a kiss to your trembling thighs.

And then she starts crawling back up your body, her lips trailing over the lingering marks she’d left along her descent. Your eyes meet, a shared intensity overtaking the laziness you were just feeling, Paige’s lips finding you’re once more in a searing, desperate kiss. It’s messy and heated, tongues tangling, hands grasping and pulling at each other. You can taste yourself on Paige’s lips and it only makes you kiss her harder.

You let Paige flip your positions with her strength, your thighs now straddling Paige’s waist. She groans a little against your mouth as her hands find your bare ass, fingers digging into the skin and kneading it, your bodies pressing together.

“Ma,” Paige breathes out when you pull away slightly, sliding her sports bra up and over her head. Her hands reach down for her sweatpants and you help her yank them—and her boxers beneath—down in one swift motion. Paige’s hips lift off the bed, and the two of you finally rid of the barrier. You toss the clothing aside without a second thought.

Paige’s lips curl into a smirk as her eyes lock with yours again, pulling you closer with her hands on your ass, bodies flush against each other. “C’mon,” she murmurs thickly.

Your breath hitches at the feel of Paige’s hands on your hips, guiding you to align your cunts together. The sensation is sinful, and you can’t suppress the moan that escapes your lips as you feel the heat and slickness of Paige’s wetness against your own.

“That’s it, mama,” the blonde encourages, sending a shiver down your spine. “Ride me, grind on me. Lemme feel you.”

You don’t need to be told twice. You start moving your hips in slow, careful circles, your slick pussy sliding against Paige’s with every movement. The sensation is overwhelming, and your head falls back as you let yourself get lost in the pleasure, hands gripping Paige’s shoulders for support.

Paige’s eyes are glued to you, tracking every move, every expression. She’s mesmerized by the way your face contorts with pleasure, your mouth falling open slightly as your hips move with increasing urgency. Paige’s hands tighten on your hips, helping to guide your movements, pushing you down harder against her own aching cunt.

“Shit,” Paige groans, blue eyes flitting between your flushed face, the way your tits bounce slightly with every thrust of your hips, and where your pussy grinds against hers. “You look so fuckin’ hot riding me like this.”

You whimper at Paige’s words, pace quickening as the heat between you builds to an almost unbearable level. The friction of your clits rubbing together is enough to make you lose control, unable to hold back the desperate sounds that escape your lips.

“You like that, baby?” Paige rasps, voice dripping with lust as she watches you lose yourself in the pleasure. “You like grinding that pretty pussy against me, yeah?”

Your only response is a choked moan, body trembling as you lean forward, hands sliding up to grip the headboard for support. The new angle allows you to press down even harder against Paige, and it sends shockwaves through both of your bodies.

Paige’s eyes roll back in her head at the increased pressure, her own hips bucking up to meet the roll of yours. She’s completely entranced by the sight of you riding her, chest heaving as she helps you, gripping your ass and pulling you quicker against her.

“Feels so fucking good,” she groans roughly.

You whimper at her words, body moving faster, more desperate, the pleasure coiling tighter and tighter. You’re both so close, bodies trembling with the effort to keep going, to chase the high that you both desperately need.

“Paige,” you gasp, breathless and needy. “I’m almost there.”

Paige’s grip on your ass tightens, fingers digging into your flesh as she urges you on. “That’s it,” she encourages, your folds so slick against hers. “Cum for me again. Need it right fuckin’ now.”

You cry out, your entire body tensing as you reach your peak, hips grinding down hard against Paige as you finish with a shuddering moan. The pleasure washes over you in waves, leaving you trembling and breathless as you ride out your orgasm.

Paige isn’t far behind, the sight of you coming undone above her enough to push her over the edge. Her own orgasm hits her hard, her hips jerking up as she lets out a low, guttural moan, her fingers digging into your ass and hips as she rides it out.

You collapse onto her, your body melting into hers, every muscle in you soft and spent. Her skin is warm beneath yours, slick with the same thin sheen of sweat that glistens on your back. Paige’s chest rises and falls erratically under your cheek, her breath heavy and labored, matching your own. The steady rhythm of her heartbeat pounds faintly against your ear, grounding you.

Her arms come around you almost instinctively, wrapping you in a hold that’s firm yet gentle, one hand splayed across your lower back, the other lazily circling between your shoulder blades. Her fingers drag lightly over your skin, soothing and possessive at once, as though she’s trying to memorize every inch of you. She shifts slightly beneath you, her body fitting against yours with an intimacy that feels effortless, as though this is where you’re meant to be.

For a long moment, neither of you speaks. The room is quiet except for the faint hum of the city outside and the soft, uneven breaths you’re both still trying to catch. Paige’s head tilts back against the pillows, her eyes fluttering shut as she lets the tension drain from her body, your weight on top of her a comfort she never realized she needed so much.

And then, with a low, raspy chuckle that vibrates through her chest, Paige breaks the silence. “Damn.”

The single word, said with so much raw awe and disbelief, makes you laugh. The sound is quiet, breathy, but it shakes through you, your shoulders trembling lightly against her. Paige feels the warmth of your laugh against her neck, and a lazy smile spreads across her face, her lips curving up in a way that makes her look soft, completely undone.

Her hand moves from your back, trailing slowly upward, the tips of her fingers grazing your spine before they find your jaw. She cradles it gently, guiding your face upward so your eyes meet hers. There’s something so special in the way she looks at you—like you’re the only thing that exists in her world right now. Her thumb brushes over your cheek, and then she’s leaning in, her lips finding yours in a kiss that’s slow and lingering, deep and unhurried.

She hums softly into it, the sound vibrating against your mouth, and when she pulls back just enough to speak, her voice is low and rough. “Did so perfect for me,” she murmurs, her eyes scanning your face as if committing it to memory.

Your lips curve into a small, sleepy smile, and you let your head rest against her shoulder once more. “I love you,” you whisper, your voice soft but sure.

Paige’s arms tighten around you in response, her fingers brushing lightly over the curve of your shoulder. She doesn’t say it back immediately, but the way she holds you—the way her lips press a gentle kiss to your temple—says it louder than words ever could.

The two of you stay like that for a while, wrapped up in each other, the weight of the moment settling around you like a warm, comforting blanket. Paige’s breathing steadies, her chest rising and falling beneath you in a rhythm that feels calming, almost hypnotic. When she finally moves, it’s only to reach for the nightstand, her fingers curling around the bottle of wine that’s been sitting there, untouched until now.

She pours herself a glass first, then grabs yours, her hand steady as she offers it. “Here,” she says softly, her voice still husky.

You take the glass from her with a small smile, your fingers brushing hers, and Paige feels that familiar spark, that electric current that always seems to buzz between you. She watches you as you take a sip, the way your lips curl around the rim of the glass, the way your eyes meet hers over the edge of it.

After a few minutes, Paige sets her empty glass aside and leans over the edge of the bed, her hand brushing against the discarded lingerie top. She picks it up, holding it up in the dim light, letting it dangle from her fingers as she turns back to you with a lazy grin. “This,” she says, her tone playful but still thick with awe, “was crazy.”

You smile at her, wide and teasing, your head tilting slightly as you reply, “You loved it.”

Paige laughs softly, shaking her head as she leans down to kiss you again, her lips lingering against yours as she murmurs, “Course I did.” Her voice is warm, sincere, and when she pulls back, the grin on her face is so full of love it makes your chest tighten.

The two of you settle back into the bed, the wine forgotten on the nightstand as Paige tucks you against her side, her arm draped over your waist. The city hums softly in the background, but all Paige can hear is the quiet sound of your breathing, the steady rhythm of your heart against hers. And in this moment, with you curled against her, Paige thinks there’s nowhere else in the world she’d rather be.

[clockwayswrites]

Bird Brained, or something. Part 22

masterpost NGL this part might be really rough. This migraine is killing my, but I wanted to get it written.

“Just stay behind us, Mr. Wayne,” Maria Ramirez ordered.

Bruce nodded as he paced. Facts about her ran through his head without his bidding. Ex Air Force. Bruce had hired her after she left, angry and with an honorable discharge the Air Force hoped would keep her quiet while the man who assaulted her got a pension. She was a little hot headed, took shit from no one, and was impressively competent.

If she continued this way, she’d be Bruce’s choice for the next head of security.

He still didn’t want to listen to her.

His kids were at the end of that stairwell along with the Mad Hatter and several of the man’s goons. Bruce was confident in Robin and Red Robin’s abilities to protect themselves from the threat, but this was different. This was Damian and Tim.

Robin might be magic, but the child in the suit was just a child. And children could die.

Bruce shook his arms out to try and get rid of the nerves. He could afford the motion as Bruce Wayne where he couldn’t as Batman.

As Batman he could have been at the front of pack and already through the door.

Bruce measured his breathing, forcing it to slow.

Ramirez held up a fist. The rest of the security force readied themselves.

One—

Two—

Three—

They breached the door with shouts of ‘hands in the air’ and ‘get down on the ground’.

“I work here! Doctor Daniel Fenton, R&D,” Danny’s voice called out.

“Get on the ground, hands behind your head slowly,” Ramirez ordered.

Bruce burst out of the stairwell. “I can vouch for—” Wings. Danny had wings. He was still human, human enough, but he had inky black wings that were spread wide along with his raised hands. “—Dr. Fenton.”

Ramirez glanced at Bruce, but kept her tranq gun trained on Danny. “Sir?”

“I can vouch for Dr. Fenton, he’s a friend of the family,” Bruce said more evenly as he took in the rest of the scene.

There was a remarkable lack of blood for the bodies scattered across the small space. Some were unconscious while others clutched their heads. The floor was scattered with crushed mind control devices and the occasional feather. The Mad Hatter was as far back in the elevator as possible, mumbling about ravens and writing desks. Danny stood in front of the door to the safe room. His spread wings assured no one got past him. The outside of Danny’s wings were white, Bruce realized. It was like they were inverted from the larger bird form.

“Tim and Damian are in the safe room,” Danny said quickly, breaking through Bruce’s thoughts. “They’re not hurt.”

Bruce’s shoulders slumped. “Thank you.” He ran his hands over his face and sucked in a purposefully even breath. Then he dropped his hands and looked at the security squad. “Dr. Fenton’s meta status is a personal mater not to be discussed, am I clear?”

There was a course of ‘yes sir’ from security and a soft, relieved, ‘thank you’ from Danny. Bruce nodded and strode towards the safe room. He snagged Danny by the wrist as he passed and pulled the stunned man along with him.

“Bruce?”

“Thank you,” Bruce said again as he started the biometric scans for the safe room. His thumb ran rhythmically over the back of Danny’s hand. The skin there was soft, like the down feathers of a chick. “Thank you for protecting my boys.”

“Of course, I always will,” Danny said, sounding completely serious, though Bruce could feel Danny’s hand trembling in his own.

The vault like door hissed as the air seal released and it started to open. Bruce knew that Danny said that the boys were fine, but as soon as the door was open enough, Bruce pulled Danny into the room and the semblance of privacy that it offered.

“Are you alright? Are you both alright?” Bruce asked. He rested his hand on Tim’s cheek while he looked to Damian, who was standing against the side wall, arms angrily crossed.

“No one even laid a hand on us or got close,” Tim said. “Danny, Dr. Fenton, made sure of that.”

“Which was completely stupid,” Damian bit out, his words harsh and angry and hurt.

“Damian,” Danny tried.

“No! It was stupid! You willing deprived yourself of allies! If you insisted on us being in the safe room then you should have been in it also!”

Danny’s wings drooped. “Damian, honey, this… this form of mine is still new. I didn’t want to risk—”

“You said you wouldn’t hurt us.”

“I would never, but there’s still things that could go wrong—”

“Shut up!”

Danny flinched back at the should, wings pulled tight against his body. Then he took a carefully measured breath and made himself relax. The wings opened up again a little and, with clear uncertainty, Danny opened his arms.

With all the speed of his training, Damian dashed forward. He rammed into Danny hard and wrapped his arms around Danny, clutching him tightly. Danny leaned down a little. His wings came forward to wrap protectively around Bruce’s youngest.

“You are an idiot,” Damian said harshly into Danny’s sweater.

“Some times,” Danny agreed, “but it’s alright. We’re all safe. It’s alright, little chickadee.”

[britcision]

By the way friends, since I am being reminded that summer is here and therefore so is the heat, here are some reminders for you lot too!

1) active cooling, like an AC, does require you to remove heat and vent it somewhere else.

Nothing that does not vent hot air outside is going to provide active cooling, like magically making your whole room immediately colder

Never believe an ad that tells you you can instantly cool your space without a visible heat vent to outside they are lying

2) passive cooling absolutely does not. It’s slower, has a smaller radius, and is in general less effective, but also requires less energy

Things like filling all your sinks/bath tubs with cold water (or ice water for preference) will provide passive cooling

(You may have heard the term “heat sink” if you’re a computer nerd. Basically, same thing - you put the heat in your cold thing, your cold thing heats up, everything else cools down)

Depending on your humidity, you can do a lot of passive cooling with water - there’s a reason it’s our natural default, but it does require humidity less than 80-90%

(Because you need the water to be able to evaporate and leave)

Ice is, of course, king; if you have a freezer, make as much as you can ahead of the heat wave and keep it in water-tight containers for refreezing

If you don’t have a freezer, hotels have ice machines usually right by the elevators. Clearly you have a very good friend you need to drop off a charger for in the nearest inattentive hotel. Bring big pockets. For the charger.

Also, freeze dish cloths or small towels if you can, by lightly dampening and applying ice. This kicks ass for heatstroke on the back of the neck, so do at least 2 to have one refreezing while you use the other

3) if you sweatin’, you need electrolytes. This is why we’re told they’re specifically for work outs, but the truth is they are for sweat, because you lose salt and shit when you sweat

Get that hydralyte, whatever, and if you can’t immediately get your hands on proper official electrolytes, toss a salt packet like they have at fast food restaurants in your water

Normal water ain’t gonna cut it when you’re a sweaty spaghetti you must be seasoned

If you touch your tongue to the salt and it is wicked delicious, you are probably dehydrated. Add an extra salt packet or two

4) defy purity culture and spread your legs

For real

You lose a lot of heat through your grundle, and keeping your legs closed will trap that heat in your body. Open up and feel the cooling

Also applicable for arms etc be a starfish

5) do not fucking use your oven. Don’t.

Big hot appliance makes big hot home. If you can only possibly cook via oven, do it at night when it’s coldest and you can maybe get some cooler air by opening windows

Use the bbq outside, the microwave, the stove top, the air fryer, anything but your goddamn oven, but honestly? Maybe eat cold food. You will be cooled down

Charcuterie boards comeback round 2?

6) basements are OP, and anywhere you can lie on cold cement kicks ass until all your joints get fucked on by the hard cement

Pretty good for keeping water cold though. Stick it on basement floor

7) hydrate or die-drate

Seriously, we talked about electrolytes and shit, but I mean it. Drink more than you usually would, even if that means smuggling extra water bottles to your local drinking fountains and fill em

If your pee is orange you are dehydrated as hell

You can also eat wet bitches like watermelons to rehydrate yourself, slorp up the juice and if anyone complains tell them it is vital for your health

8) shade! Bring your umbrella, bring Big Hat, fuck the sun it is the enemy you wanna have something between yourself and it while you rest

Sunscreen also good but you do not want your head in the sun for long periods because sunstroke is a bitch and will sneak up on your ass

9) furries I am sorry this one is for you you NEED a fan in the fursuit and you NEED to take it off if you get tired or wanna nap

NEVER fall asleep in your fursuit in the summer, ALWAYS be prepared to get outta it in a hurry, and bring triple water or have a planned water stop

Inflatable folks too you are wearing a dinosaur or a pikachu not fur but that is still a goddamn closed environment and will also cook you

Manual fan, electrical fan, water bottles, ice packs are required for safe summer fun and probably also a shirt inside so you can go into ice cream store

10) con goers, save yourselves $15 and go to a dollar store or local equivalent and buy a cheap folding fan before the con

Bring it to dealers or panels or just out for the day you can buy fans at the con usually but they are marked up because they know you need it

[starrvsn]

꒰ ⌕ ꒱ recommended bucky barnes fics! ✧ ੭ pls support these writers !

OVER THE INTERCOM ⠆bucky revival because of thunderbolts... my og, i will never forget him.

﹙legend!﹚ ✷ includes smut! must 18+ to read! ✱ — thunderbolts (since a newly realeased movie, i want to prevent spoilers from people who haven't seen it yet! but beware of spoilers) 𝜗𝜚 — my personal fav! — indented text is other recommended fics by the same author!

˚⋆𐙚｡ list is regularly updated when i find new fics! & if links aren’t working pls lmk! ⋆𖦹.✧˚

 ── .✦ also! i may be recommending certain fics but please also check out their blogs! so many of these authors have other amazing pieces just waiting to be read!

✱ back to you written by @helaintoloki / synopsis: Yelena’s interest in y/n forces Bucky to confront his feelings for her as the Thunderbolts take refuge in her home

✱ jackass written by @aquaticmercy / synopsis: Everyone is horrified that Bucky is flirting with a married woman, but then they realize there's a reason why. 

⤷ also! recommending their bucky fics in their masterlist because they are absolutely amazing, swear i binge read all their fics in one night… seriously.

weakness written by @marvelstoriesepic / synopsis: You use Bucky’s only weakness to your advantage until it bites you in the ass.

⤷ ✷ in too deep / synopsis: After Bucky calls, and you come running, you end up locked in his bathroom, trying to get rid of the evidence that something hasn’t gone well this time + part two ✷ different, this time / synopsis: After the hospital visit and the doctor’s diagnosis, Bucky is plagued with guilt. He won’t touch you again until he is absolutely sure that you’re okay. Once you manage to reassure him, you both discover what it truly means to make love, rather than just fucking with suppressed feelings. And it’s overwhelming in the best way.

yours whether you know it or not written by @magical-reid / synopsis: You’ve been running missions with Sam and Bucky for a while now, and everything was fine—until John Walker started showing up and taking an interest in you. Bucky isn’t having it. Not because he’s jealous. Definitely not because he’s jealous. He just doesn’t trust Walker. Right?

𝜗𝜚 the solider and his mission written by @magical-reid / synopsis: When a trigger sends Bucky back into the grip of the Winter Soldier, he shadows you with an unyielding protectiveness that leaves the team on edge, though he doesn't harm anyone. After days of tension and careful steps, Bucky finally breaks through the icy barrier, returning to himself in a quiet, tender moment, finding solace in your presence.

✷ queens throne written by @little-miss-dilf-lover / synopsis: you have been feeling insecure and been nitpicking yourself apart. bucky notices and shows you how much he loves your body by asking you to sit on his face

✷ you take the dark and carve me out a home written by @sinner-as-saint / synopsis: Unwinding after a tough mission is not exactly easy. Especially not when you’re part of a group that is always, constantly under scrutiny. Which is why you were always extra hard on yourself whenever you felt like you made a mistake or let the team down in any way. Bucky was aware of this, he was aware of everything regarding you, and usually he gave you your space and within a day or two you’d get back to normal. But this time was different, he noticed. It had been a couple of days since your last mission and you were still in that weird, distant headspace. And Bucky needed you back, the whole team needed you back, but him more because… well, because he cared about you a lot more than he let on. 

𝜗𝜚 ✷ this is (not) fine written by @artficlly / synopsis: personal assistant rules: don’t crush on bucky barnes. definitely don’t misinterpret a flower purchase and spiral into silent heartbreak, and absolutely never ever get stuck alone with him in an elevator.

⤷ ✷ lessons in love making / synopsis: You and Bucky Barnes go undercover as a married couple, but when a fake kiss gets too real, he unexpectedly finishes in his pants—leaving you both stunned. (on-going series!) *not apart of the recommended fit but written by the same author!*

✷ the sunday regular written by @little-miss-dilf-lover / synopsis: you’re a waitress working at some shitty run-down diner in the middle of nowhere. and every sunday you see the same person at the same time walk through the doors. the pair of you forming a bond over time. though today, he doesn’t at his usual time and you begin to worry that you’ll have to wait another week to see him. the regular then finds out some information about you that he didn’t wish to know, and in turn, information you didn’t wish to share.

✷ makeout lessons with bucky written by @bcksgirl

drawing the line written by @fireinmoonshot / synopsis: Bucky Barnes has messed up big time ... he just doesn't know it until he sees you and realises he really should've checked his texts.

✷ breaking the ice written by @buckysouvenir / synopsis: when bucky doesn’t know what sex is like in the 2000s, you volunteer to try his fantasies.

off duty written by @lolab4t / synopsis: after a rare night off, you stumble back into avengers tower at 2 am.. tipsy, feet hurting, and definitely not expecting to run into bucky barnes on the couch.

⤷ ✷ part two of off duty / synopsis: days after the tipsy night on the couch, you're left wondering what it meant... especially with bucky acting infuriatingly normal. the tension leads to a steamy exchange between the two, where bucky seems to let go of his gentleman manners for a bit.

✱ ✷ overheard written by @alisonfics / synopsis: alexei persuades the thunderbolts team that they need to throw a costume party at the tower. your costume has a certain effect on a certain super soldier, but he’s too stubborn to admit it. you go to talk to him after the party and find him masturbating to the thought of you.

𝜗𝜚 smile, you're on camera! part one & ✷ two written by @whambamsami / synopsis: you accidentally find out what neighbor!bucky really does for work. and he's more than interested to show you how professional he can be.

✷ nine lives written by @theaquariusedit / synopsis: Bucky Barnes drives you insane—in every possible way. The bickering, the reckless plans, the way he smirks like he knows exactly what he’s doing to you. But when a mission goes sideways, leaving you both bloodied and too close for comfort, the tension between you ignites into something impossible to ignore. You can keep pretending. Keep fighting him. But Bucky isn’t one to back down—especially when he knows you don’t really want him to.

✷ it’s been calling me written by @godmadeaterribleerror / synopsis: You've had these… dreams. Strange, realistic, detailed dreams of the same man, almost your whole life. But they're just dreams. You've been so sure, for so long, that they're just dreams.

✷ you started it written by @lucy-literates / synopsis: When Bucky walks in on you wearing nothing but his shirt and an innocent smile, all his carefully kept restraint goes up in flames — and this time, he’s done playing the gentleman.

you said what? written by @ilovolderman / synopsis: You accidentaly call Bucky babe during a mission briefing in front of the whole team. (can be read as a stand alone but is apart of a mini drabble series!)

𝜗𝜚 ✷ scary my god you’re divine written by @cloudystevie / synopsis: he would do anything for you.

✱ dead of the night written by @bruisedboys / synopsis: bucky calls you, his loyal assistant, in the middle of the night, asking for your help. he’s got four assassins with him and they need a place to hide. you’re too in love with him to say no. SPOILER WARNING!! plot spoilers for thunderbolts

𝜗𝜚 ✷ summer surprise written by @pome-seed / synopsis: You've been looking forward to kicking off the summer with a week on your dads new boat. You decide to have one last night of fun before committing to a week on the sea with your family. But you're thrown into a world of shock when you realize the older man you slept with, only days prior, is not only friends with your dad, but also joining you for the trip.

anyone but you written by @nev3rfound / synopsis: you were Bucky's pocket of sunshine, his sweet girl outside of the avengers. a slice of normality in his less-than lifestyle, but what happens when you're pulled into it in the worst way?

﹙newly added!﹚✷ code red written by @buckyseternaldoll / synopsis: The mission was intel. But when you went dark, Bucky lost all control—and the code turned personal.

show some loves to the authors ᡣ𐭩 recommendations by jes!

[sirxaibs]

Can I ask for Sale Fisher x fem!reader that's popular? And could you PLS PLS PLS don't make her mean? Like, I want her to be popular becouse she's one of those poeple that just sthraight up go talk to anyone.

And maybe Sal's friend group thought that shes propably a bitch, but like.

'She sat at our table?.....and didn't make fun of us?.....in fact she gives compliments that don't feel backhandead?......wtf?'

⬆️just an example, you can do whatever with this.

Sorry for possibile grammer errors or speeling mistakes, english isn't my first lenguage. Thank you and I hope you'll have a nice day ♥️

Hey! I THOUGHT THIS COULD BE SO CUTE!! so Ive seen many fics on this and i wanted to take a different approach. I hope you enjoy it. I love Sal and I hope this isn’t too crazy. I wrote a version yesterday and made everyone a little too mean and I don’t believe any of them would be assholes. So! Hopefully this satiates y’all.

masterlist

⋆༺𓆩☠︎︎𓆪༻⋆ Your legs ache from practice, the soles of your sneakers sticking a little to the hallway tile with each step. You smell faintly of sweat and cherry body spray, the cheer uniform still clinging to your skin like it’s part of you now tight pleats, school colors, and all. You could’ve changed, sure, but exhaustion said no. So here you are, hair in a high ponytail, shoes untied, carrying a stack of junk mail and a single envelope that doesn’t belong to you.

You look at it again under the flickering hallway light, flipping it over in your fingers like it’ll magically reroute to the correct mailbox on its own.

SAL FISHER

UNIT 402

You know the name. Everyone at school does. The kid with the face cover. You’ve never spoken to him he doesn’t really hang around the same kind of people you do but he’s always there. At lunch, in the halls, sometimes sitting out near the tree line when no one else is around. You didn’t peg him as the chatty type.

You stare at the letter like it might bite you. Then sigh. “Why not be a good neighbor,” you mutter, dragging your legs toward the elevator.

The ride to the fourth floor feels longer than it should. It shudders a little on the way up. You keep your eyes on the numbers. Three… four. The doors open with a ding that sounds half hearted.

You’ve never actually been up here.

The fourth floor feels… worse. Everything smells faintly of dust and something like mothballs and metal. You don’t know why, but the lights here feel dimmer. You walk slower, steps echoing.

You find the unit: 402. You raise your hand to knock. There was a pause for a few seconds.

A man stands in front of you, tall, a little disheveled, and definitely not Sal. His presence is immediate, like he fills the space just by being in it. You blink.

“Oh hi! Sorry,” you start, holding the envelope out, “I was just dropping this off”

“He’s in his room,” the man says before you finish.

You freeze. “Oh, no, I wasn’t trying to bother him, I just thought I’d–”

“Just go on in. Down the hall, last door on the left.”

You blink again. You’re not even sure he’s looking at you. Just staring somewhere past your head, like he’s already decided this conversation is over.

“I mean, I could just leave it here”

“Last door on the left.”

He steps aside, just enough for you to enter. You do, but not on purpose. Your legs just move. You step into the apartment, and it’s… weird. Not gonna lie, being in any strangers apartment never really felt cool. You walk toward the hallway, clutching the letter, mind screaming at you to stop being so polite.

“Damn old people,” you think, jaw tightening. “I just wanted to drop something off, not go all this way”

The hallway feels longer than it is. The floor creaks behind you, or maybe above you. You don’t look back. You keep walking. Last door on the left.

⋆༺𓆩☠︎︎𓆪༻⋆ You knock lightly once, twice then pull your hand back like the door might burn you. A pause. Then the knob turns. The door creaks open slowly, revealing a familiar figure just behind it. Blue pigtails. The mask.

Sal Fisher.

He stares at you. You stare back. Neither of you says a word. And because silence is somehow gnawing at your neck, you blurt, “Hi! Um, I think our mail got mixed up I swear I didn’t just barge in.”

You thrust the letter forward like it’s a peace offering. “This was in my mailbox. For you. I thought I’d, y’know, be neighborly and return it. I didn’t open it or toss it or anything. Your dad sent me over this way”

He takes the envelope slowly, his fingers brushing yours for the briefest moment. His gaze flicks down to it.

“Thanks,” he says. His voice is quieter than you expected. Almost gentle.

You nod. Then freeze. Then nod again. You’re still standing there, very much in his doorway, very much uninvited. His room is in full view behind him. Posters of metal bands you’ve only heard mentioned in passing. Skulls, red and black ink themes. A guitar in the corner. Tiny, vaguely creepy figurines lined up on a shelf.

“Your room’s so cool,” you say before your brain can stop you. You lean forward just a little, peering past him. “Seriously. This is like… Sid and Nancy level. How do you even find posters like that anymore? Oh my god is that an actual cassette player? That’s so sick.”

You wince as the words leave your mouth. “God, sorry, I’m not trying to be weird. I mean that in a good way. Promise.”

Your voice is speeding up. You’re spiraling. And you know it.

Sal just keeps watching you like he’s trying to figure out if this is real or a very strange dream. A cheerleader. In his doorway. Talking about cassette players. You finally cringe so hard your whole body folds in on itself.

“I’m gonna go,” you say, backing toward the hallway. “Sorry for the whole… I don’t know what that was. I was just trying to be a good neighbor and it turned into, like, a monologue of whatever the fuck.”

You turn halfway around to leave when you hear

“You wanna take a look around?”

You glance over your shoulder.

Sal is still standing there, holding the envelope like it might vanish. His posture is stiff, like he’s surprised the words came out of his mouth, too.

You blink. “I mean… sure?”

He nods. “If you’re into the posters, Do you dig that kind of music?.”

Your eyebrows shoot up. “Well I wouldn’t say it’s exactly my style but I’m a all things can be redeemable if you give it a try”

He jerks his head toward the room. “why not give it a try then”

You’re already stepping inside before he finishes, smiling wide. “You had me at ‘cool’ and sealed the deal with ‘band.’ Show me.”

The second you cross the threshold, it’s like entering another world. The bland apartment hallway behind you disappears into a mess of amps, guitars, wires, dark posters, and the faint scent of incense and old vinyl.

Sal gestures toward a small desk setup with beat up speakers and a laptop. He grabs a pair of headphones well worn, slightly cracked along the band and offers them to you.

“You don’t have to pretend it’s good,” he mutters. “Honest opinion’s fine.”

You shoot him a thumbs up and take the headphones like they might unlock the secrets of the universe.

He clicks play.

The drums hit first loud, fast. Then comes the guitar: raw, rich, angry. A distorted voice cuts through the noise melodic under the layers of whatever was happening, but clawing to be heard. Your eyes go wide. You start bobbing your head slowly. Then more. A grin creeps up your face, shoulders bouncing slightly as the music crashes through your ears. You grip the headphones tighter, fully in it like you’ve been dropped into a private punk rock concert in a dream.

When the song fades, you pull the headphones off with a breathless laugh. “That was… so good,” you say, eyes lit up. “Like, very loud but in the best way. I felt like I could punch God in the face. I loved it.”

Sal’s ears what little you can see of them turn just slightly pink. He shifts, crossing his arms. “Yeah?”

You grin. “What, because I’m in a cheer uniform, you think cheerleaders don’t have rage?”

He laughs softly. It’s warm. Unexpected.

You glance at the clock and groan. “Ugh. I should probably head back and pretend I’m responsible or whatever. Homework calls.”

You hand the headphones back, your fingers lingering a second before letting go.

“Thanks for showing me that,” you say. “Seriously. its super sick.”

Sal shrugs, casual, but he still won’t quite meet your eyes. In his head, he’s screaming. Because what the hell. A cheerleader just walked into his room, complimented his taste in music, vibed to Sanity Falls, and then thanked him like he did her a favor.

Respectfully and he does mean that. you’re hot. this whole thing feels like a glitch in the matrix. Like someone else’s life. He clears his throat. “Yeah. Uh. Anytime.”

You flash one last smile before turning to leave. Sal Fisher stands frozen in his room, A pretty girl was in his room.

⋆༺𓆩☠︎︎𓆪༻⋆ the clatter of trays, bursts of laughter, the shriek of a chair scraping too hard against the linoleum. Sal sat across from Larry, Ash, and Todd, picking at the edges of his sandwich more than actually eating it. His thoughts weren’t really on food. Not when they kept drifting back to the night before.

Cheerleader. In his room. Pretty girl. She liked his music.

“Hey,” he said finally, pushing his tray forward and folding his arms on the table. “Do you guys know that new girl who lives on the third floor now?”

Larry paused mid bite, sandwich halfway to his mouth. “Third floor?”

Ash glanced between them, already suspicious. “Wait. Are we talking about that new girl? Y/N something?”

“Yeah,” Sal said, tone casual like he wasn’t rehearsing the question all morning. “she dropped something off last night. Just wondering if you knew her.”

Larry barked a laugh. “The cheerleader? Yeah, she’s definitely one of those girls.”

Sal blinked. “Those?”

“You know,” Ash chimed in, leaning her chin on her hand. “Perfect hair. Always smells like a mall. Probably part of one of those fake bestie cliques that post about how much they loveee each other but secretly hate one another’s guts.”

Larry nodded, already back into his food. “Plastic. The kind that calls everyone ‘babe’ but doesn’t know your actual name.”

Todd, sipping from a thermos, finally looked up. “You guys don’t even know her.”

Ash raised an eyebrow. “And you do?”

“I’ve had class with her. She’s… quiet,” Todd said thoughtfully. “Pays attention. Says thank you when someone passes her a worksheet. She helped a freshman with their locker on the second day.”

“That’s your bar for decency?” Larry said, skeptical.

“I’m just saying, you’re judging her and like Sal was new too once,” Todd said. “You don’t know anything real about her.”

Ash groaned. “You don’t need to know someone to know someone, Todd. Some people just radiate mean girl energy. Trust me.”

Todd narrowed his eyes. “That’s a shallow assumption and you know it.”

Ash muttered something about “cheerleaders being a plague” under her breath, and Larry snorted.

Sal, who had gone unusually quiet, finally spoke again. “She’s not like that.”

All three of them turned to look at him.

Larry’s mouth slowly curved into a smirk. “Wait. Hold up. Why are you asking about her, dude?”

Sal looked down, then up, tone clipped. “I told you. She dropped off mail. That’s it.”

Ash crossed her arms. “why did she just come all the way up to your place to give you a letter?”

Sal shrugged. “Her mailbox got mine by accident. then stayed for a bit”

Larry leaned forward, grinning. “What, did she get lost on the way out?”

Sal blinked. “She liked my music.”

Ash scoffed. “What, like out loud?”

Sal nodded. “Yeah. She tried my headphones. Even headbanged a little.”

Todd smiled slightly. “That’s kind of cool.”

Larry shook his head like he was witnessing a miracle. “Okay, wait a minute. A cheerleader, listened to screamo music, and didn’t run screaming for the suburbs?”

Sal shrugged again. “She said it made her want to punch God.”

Ash froze, lips parting in a mix of confusion and, for the first time, mild interest. “Okay… that’s actually kind of hardcore.”

“She said my room was cool,” Sal mumbled, mostly to his tray.

Larry threw his hands up. “Okay, what the hell, Sal. Are you telling me you Sal ‘I sit by myself and listen to death metal’ Fisher just casually had a cheerleader in your bedroom?”

Sal didn’t reply, but his fingers drummed on the table a little too fast to be casual. Larry leaned in. “Dude. You got a cheerleader in your room. Are you sure this wasn’t a dream? Like a fever dream after one too many gas station burritos?”

Todd tilted his head. “Or maybe… maybe she’s just a person. Like the rest of us. Who happens to like punk and be good at flips.”

Ash scowled. “God, Todd, you sound like a teacher.”

He shrugged. “Just saying.”

Larry still wasn’t over it. “Next thing you know she’s gonna show up in all black with eyeliner and join a band.”

Sal didn’t say it out loud, but a flicker of a smile played under the edge of his mask at the idea. He kinda liked that you were so different. the juxtaposition of your looks and what you seemed interested was very cool to look at.

⋆༺𓆩☠︎︎𓆪༻⋆ You strolled through the crowd with your cheer squad flanking both sides laughing, gossiping, spinning their hair around fingers like it was a competitive sport. You listened absently as one of them launched into a dramatic retelling of how her ex “accidentally” liked her finsta post at 2 a.m.

You weren’t really paying attention. Not because you didn’t care, though the first time she talked about it had you engaged. but because your eyes had already locked onto something else across the cafeteria. A short blue haired guy sitting at a table near the back with a group of kids you’d only ever heard about through whispered rumors and cruel nicknames.

There he was. Sal Fisher. without really thinking without asking yourself anything at all you broke away from your group mid laugh. Just veered straight toward him like your legs had made the decision before your brain did.

“Wait, where are you going?” one of your friends asked behind you.

“BRB,” you called over your shoulder. “I want to bother someone.”

Across the cafeteria, at a table meant for the misfits, Sal was in the middle of pushing peas around his tray when a sudden blur of cheer uniform and bounce came into view. He looked up.

You stopped right beside him and sat down immediately grabbing his arm, breathless and grinning. “Okay, so, I’ve been thinking about that song you showed me all night. Like, literally, I couldn’t sleep. I need more. You got a playlist? A mixtape? A USB drive from hell? Gimme.”

For one perfect, cinematic second, the entire table was silent. Larry dropped his fork. Ash’s eyes nearly bugged out of her skull. Todd blinked like you had just walked through a wall.

Sal just stared. “You… what?”

You nodded eagerly, lowering your voice like it was sacred. “You ruined all my playlists. I need more of that noise in my life.”

He blinked again. “You sure?”

“You say that like you thought I wouldn’t.”

“I–” Sal started, then stopped, looking absolutely stunned.

You turned to the rest of the table, realizing they were still staring at you like you’d just sprouted devil horns and declared yourself prom queen of hell. You raised a hand sheepishly. “Hi. Sorry for interrupting. I’m Y/N. just moved this year.”

Ash looked like she was physically holding herself back from combusting. Larry was still open mouthed, and Todd was watching with the kind of intrigue usually reserved for alien encounters.

“If you’re anything like Sal,” you added, offering them a genuine smile, “then I’m sure you’re all cool as hell.”

Larry looked to Sal, eyes wide. “Yeah, he’s crazy cool. Though he did learn from the best” Larry awkwardly replied while pointing himself

Ash leaned toward Todd. “I think i’m on drugs, what’s happening” Todd just smiled quietly.

You turned back to Sal, who was very much glitching out in real time. “I’ll give you my number later,” you said with a wink. “Text me a playlist. Or this time I’m breaking into your room.”

Sal opened his mouth. Closed it. Nodded once like he was in shock. “Okay.” And then you were gone, skipping back to your friends, who were whispering furiously and shooting glances like you’d just fraternized with the enemy.

“what was that?” one of them hissed.

You smiled, tugging your ponytail higher.“you’re the one who told me to make friends here, thats all i’m doing.”

Back at the table, Sal stared down at his tray like it might give him answers.

Larry leaned in, whispering, “Bro. Are you a witch? Did you hex a cheerleader?”

Sal just shook his head.

“I think,” he said slowly, still stunned, “i think its jover for me.”

⋆༺𓆩☠︎︎𓆪༻⋆ You weren’t quite sure how it happened. One second you were joking in the hallway with Sal about your shared hatred for lukewarm cafeteria pizza, and the next you were in his room, cross legged, spinning slowly on his desk chair while he nervously adjusted the volume on his old stereo system.

The room was quiet, save for the soft murmur of some obscure post punk band playing from the corner. You didn’t recognize the lyrics, but it felt like something you wanted to memorize.

“You know,” you said, glancing around, “I kinda expected more skulls. Or like… weird taxidermy?”

Sal laughed soft and surprised. “Yeah, you’re not the first to say that. I think Larry was disappointed when he first came over and didn’t find a Ouija board or something.”

You gave him a playful squint. “Wait, you don’t have one?”

Sal grinned slightly behind the mask. “Okay, I do. But it’s under my bed and mostly for decoration. Larry gets carried away.”

You hopped off the chair and crouched, peeking under the bed like you were on a mission. “You’re telling me there’s a haunted board game down here and you’re not showing me?”

“It’s not haunted,” he replied, clearly amused. “It’s just from a yard sale. Probably cursed with suburban angst at most.”

You laughed, brushing your fingers over a dusty shoebox. “Still cool. You’ve got good taste. I mean, look at this stuff.”

Posters of bands you’d never heard of were plastered across the walls, scribbled notebook pages taped in between like patchwork wallpaper. An old lava lamp flickered halfheartedly in the corner. There were stacks of CDs, cassette tapes, and one particularly weird clay sculpture that looked like it might’ve been made in a sleep deprived art class.

You plopped onto his bed and tilted your head. “This one’s my favorite,” you said, pointing at a crooked drawing of a girl with hollow eyes and messy hair. “She beautiful.”

Sal stepped closer, shoving his hands in his hoodie pocket. “That was… something I did when I was like, thirteen. Supposed to be a ghost from this dream I had. I kept seeing her for weeks after.”

You looked at him, expression soft. “You see ghosts a lot?”

He hesitated for a second, then nodded. “Sometimes. Not all the time. But yeah.”

“Damn. That’s metal.”

Sal let out another laugh, more comfortable now. “That’s what I told my therapist.”

You leaned back on your elbows, smiling at him from his own bed like you’d done it a hundred times. “So, what else are you hiding in here? Secret dungeon? Portal to hell?”

“Uh,” Sal said, eyes glinting with something playful. “Larry stole all the portals to hell. I’m more of a secret music archive guy.”

You shot up. “Prove it.”

He smirked and crossed the room to a cabinet by his desk, pulling open a drawer to reveal a mess of burned CDs, USBs, old MP3 players, and one tiny cassette player with a sticker that said “Play if you hate the world.”

You gasped like he’d opened the Holy Grail. “Sal. This is the coolest shit I’ve ever seen. You better send me everything.”

He knelt beside you, pulling out a CD with careful fingers. “This one’s the first mix I ever made. It’s super rough.”

You took it from him reverently. “I love rough.”

Sal’s ears went pink. “I, uh, that came out weird.”

“Yeah,” you teased. “but cant a girl say how she feels.”

You glanced at him, and he was already watching you, like he couldn’t believe you actually said that. Like you’d disappear if he blinked too long.

“Hey,” you said, quieter now. “You’re kinda talkative tonight.”

He shrugged, brushing some hair from his face. “You’re easy to talk to.”

That made something flicker warm in your chest.

“Same,” you murmured. Then you nudged him with your shoulder. “Do you like me here?”

Sal tilted his head, mock serious. “People probably that I’ve summoned a demon cheerleader to possess me.”

You grinned. “Yeah? Hope they’re right.”

And he laughed again. You liked that sound. You wanted to hear it more.

You and Sal stayed like that for a while, just talking. The kind of conversation that meandered and curved around strange facts and half finished thoughts. He told you about a ghost that used to knock on his closet door when he was little. You told him about the time you accidentally summoned a raccoon with a ritual you found on Tumblr. Somewhere between laughter and another CD recommendation, you spotted a small, beat up notebook tucked between the mattress and wall. It looked old, like something with secrets.

“Ooooh, what’s that?” you asked, already reclining across the bed to reach it.

Sal looked up, immediately alert. “Wait no, that’s!”

Too late. You stretched out, reaching over him as he sat back against the headboard. Your fingers brushed the edge of the notebook only for your balance to shift, the mattress dipping under your weight.

Thump.

You landed right on top of him. For a moment, neither of you moved. You were nose to nose, your chest pressed against his, hands awkwardly splayed on either side of his shoulders. His mask had tilted slightly, and you could see just a glimpse of the scar beneath it before he quickly adjusted it. His breath hitched so did yours.

Your eyes met.

Sal’s eyes were wide, pupils flicking between yours like he was scanning for some kind of signal. You suddenly became very aware of the warmth radiating off him. Of the way your knee was pressing slightly between his legs. The room, the music, the whole world had gone still.

“Uh,” he said softly, like he was trying not to spook you.

You blinked. “Sorry. Um. .”

“it’s okay,” he said, voice an octave higher than usual. “Totally. You’re all good trust. Yeah.”

You were about to say something maybe a joke, maybe not when the door slammed open with the force of someone who had never knocked in his entire life.

“Yo, Sal HOLY SHIT”

You scrambled off like you’d been hit with a taser, rolling off to the side and nearly falling off the bed. Sal sat bolt upright, stiff as a corpse.

Larry stood in the doorway, a soda can in one hand and a box of cookies in the other, blinking like he was trying to make sure what he was seeing wasn’t a hallucination.

“Dude,” he said, utterly stunned. “Did I interrupt something?”

Sal buried his face in both hands with a groan. “Larry.”

“No, because this is like… well im not going to say. You’re on the bed, she’s on top of you, the music’s playing do you guys want me to turn the lights down? Light a candle or something?”

You threw a pillow at him.

Larry dodged it “I can come back later. Like, waaay later.”

“You weren’t even supposed to come now,” Sal hissed, his voice muffled behind his hands.

Larry grinned. “I felt a disturbance in the force.”

You sat up and crossed your legs, trying to fix your hair and your dignity. “Hey Larry, how’s it going?.”

Larry raised his brows and backed toward the hallway with exaggerated steps. “I meet you once and you’re already over my man right here”

And then he was gone, disappearing down the hall with the sound of crinkling cookie packaging trailing behind him. Sal finally peeked up at you, his face still a little flushed. “…Im sorry about that.”

You smiled, brushing your hair back. “Im not too worried, He seems like a nice guy.”

Sal blinked, then laughed “I think I like having you around,” he murmured, almost too quiet to catch.

You grinned, nudging his knee with yours. “Then send me that damn playlist before I tackle you again.”

“…Not the worst threat I’ve heard,” he replied.

And the music played on.

⋆༺𓆩☠︎︎𓆪༻⋆You sat criss cross on the grass with your cheerleader friends, your lunch mostly forgotten as you braided strands of your best friend’s hair while another girl animatedly recounted some drama from first period.

“…and then he said, ‘It’s not cheating if we were on a break!’” she shrieked, clutching her phone like it was sacred.

Everyone groaned, gasped, or fake fainted in synchronized horror.

You laughed, tossing a piece of grass in her direction. “He used the Friends defense? God, we need to start handing out red flags on flashcards.”

You were comfortable here. It was loud, messy, dramatic but it was yours. And they loved you because you weren’t just part of the cheer squad, or the new girl, but because you talked to the theater kids, the band nerds, the weird guy in the dinosaur hoodie. You didn’t care about cliques. You liked people. People were weird and interesting.

Eventually the bell rang and everyone stood, gathering their things in a flurry of hair and perfume.

“I’ll see you after school!” someone called. You waved, backing away toward the building with your backpack swinging behind you.

And that’s when you heard it. “Pick it up, you little freak. Or do you need your mommy to do it for you?”

You rounded the corner and froze. A smaller kid, maybe a freshman, was scrambling to pick up their books, hands shaking as a taller guy stood over him. Shaggy hair,, fists clenched like he wanted someone to look. A few papers blew past your feet. You didn’t step in. You knew better. You weren’t built like that couldn’t throw a punch or bark louder than a threat. And you knew the look of someone who’d use that.

But still… once the kid grabbed his stuff and scurried off like a spooked rabbit, you found your voice.

“Hey.”

The guy turned to you, annoyance etched into every line of his face. “What?”

You took a slow breath and tilted your head. “What’s your problem?”

He blinked, like you’d just asked him the square root of an existential crisis. “You wanna go?” he said, stepping toward you with all the bravado of someone who’d been fighting shadows his whole life.

You didn’t flinch. Just crossed your arms and stared. “You seriously pick fights with kids who can’t fight back? What, did your cereal bully you this morning?”

That got him. Just a flicker but it was there. A crack in the tough guy mask. He scoffed. “Don’t act like you know me.”

“I don’t,” you said honestly. “But I know whatever that was back there? Thats fucked, stop being a dick and maybe your mommy would do something about it.” His jaw flexed like he was holding back a hundred things he didn’t know how to say. “I’m not scared of you,” you added softly. “But you being a dick is pointless.”

He stared at you for a long time. Long enough that it should’ve felt uncomfortable. But instead, it felt… tense. Not dangerous. Just tight. Like something holding its breath.

Then, just before turning, he muttered, “Tch. Whatever.”

You watched him go, the anger in his steps still there but dulled, somehow. Like your words had wedged into the gears of whatever rage machine he operated on. You found out later from someone in gym class that his name was Travis. Just Travis. No one knew his last name, just that he was trouble, had a rep, and probably didn’t have many people who called him anything else.

Ash had seen it.

She’d been leaning against the side of the vending machines, chewing on the straw of her empty smoothie cup, eyes darting around the quad like they always did. She wasn’t looking for drama, not really, but if it stumbled into her path, she sure as hell wasn’t going to ignore it.

She watched the whole thing Travis towering, spitting venom, and you standing there, not brave enough to throw hands, but bold enough to ask why. Not backing down. Not even flinching.

When he walked off, still pissed but quieter somehow, she tossed her smoothie into the bin and strolled over like she wasn’t deliberately inserting herself.

“What was that?” she asked, casually, like she’d just seen you pet a lion.

You turned, slinging your backpack higher on your shoulder. “What was what?”

Ash raised a brow. “With Travis. You said something. He didn’t hit you. That’s basically a miracle.”

You shrugged, still feeling the adrenaline buzz in your ribs. “I don’t know. Just… couldn’t walk past it.”

Ash snorted. “People walk past him all the time. He’s an ass. A racist, sexist, homophobic caveman with fists for brains. Trust me, most people are glad to stay out of his way.”

You chewed your lip. “Yeah. I guess. I just. I don’t know. People who are assholes need someone to speak up.”

She tilted her head, considering that for a beat. “You ever get into fights?”

“God, no,” you said quickly. “I’d die.”

Ash smirked. “That checks out. Still, you didn’t run. Didn’t go fake sweet or start crying to a teacher. You just… confronted him. That was kind of bold of you new girl.”

“Thanks?” you offered, unsure.

She walked with you now, matching your steps as you made your way down the hall. It was quiet, the rush between lunch and next period tapering off.

Ash glanced sideways at you. “Y’know, I pegged you as another one of them.”

You didn’t need to ask who them was. You’d seen the way she looked at your cheer friends. Glitter and high ponies didn’t mix with combat boots and smudged eyeliner.

You smiled softly, still looking ahead. “Yeah. I get that a lot.”

She didn’t say anything for a second. Then: “Turns out you’ve got more bite than you let on.”

You turned to her, surprised. “You saying that like it’s a good thing.”

Ash shrugged. “Might be.”

That was it. No over explanation. No emotional dive into friendship territory. Just the Ashley Campbell version of a peace offering. She didn’t invite you to hang out or trade numbers. She didn’t ask personal questions or gush. But the next time she saw you in the hall, she nodded at you instead of looking through you.

⋆༺𓆩☠︎︎𓆪༻⋆ The bell had just rung, and the hallways were alive people yelling across rows of lockers, someone dropping a textbook with a dramatic slam, and the smell of cafeteria pizza already creeping in. You scanned the crowd like a bloodhound on a mission.

Sal Fisher. Quietly standing near the usual corner with Larry, Todd, and Ash. He had his hands in his pockets, head tilted as Todd went off about some new theory, probably ghosts or government tech. Ash was chewing on a straw and nodding vaguely, while Larry interrupted every other word with “Nah, but listen what if?”

You didn’t even think twice.

“Hey!” you called, bounding over like a cartoon character with too much energy and absolutely no sense of personal space. “There you are, Blue.”

Sal looked up right as you reached him. “Blue?”

“You’re wearing blue,” you said, pointing at him. “And your hair’s blue. You’re very committed to the aesthetic.”

He tilted his head. “I wear black more than anything.”

“Technicalities,” you said, grabbing his sleeve. “Come on. We’re doing something.”

Larry raised a brow. “Is this a kidnapping?”

“Definitely,” Ash answered flatly.

“Wait, what are we doing?” Sal asked, laughing under his breath as you pulled him gently away from the group. “Do I get a say in this?”

“You get to walk or be dragged, your call.”

“That doesn’t feel like much of a choice,” he muttered, but he let you lead him anyway.

“Where are you taking him this time?” Todd called out with actual concern.

“To the moon,” you replied without turning around. “Or maybe just the vending machines. We’ll see.”

Ash cupped her hands around her mouth. “Bring him back in one piece!”

Larry shouted after, “AND IF HE COMES BACK MARRIED IM ATTACKING YOU FOR NOT LETTING ME BE BEST MAN!”

You groaned and shot them a look over your shoulder. “Y’all are so dramatic.”

“We’re dramatic?” Ash asked, gesturing wildly. “You swooped in like a caffeinated falcon and stole our boy mid convo!”

Sal laughed beside you, his eyes squinting just slightly with amusement behind the mask. “You kinda did.”

“Okay, but be honest,” you said, bumping your shoulder into his. “You weren’t even really paying attention to Larry’s alien rant.”

“…It was about space cats this time.”

“See? I’m rescuing you.”

He chuckled again, a little softer this time. “Then thanks, I guess. You know, I’ve started looking forward to these.”

You slowed your pace, peeking at him from the side. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” he nodded, a bit bashful now. “You’re crazy and I am definitely living for it.”

Your smile tugged wider, warmth blooming in your chest. “That might be the nicest thing anyone’s ever said to me.”

“You need better friends,” he teased.

“I have you,” you shot back.

And that quiet moment hung between you both for just a second comfortable, kind of sweet, a little electric.

Back at the hallway corner, the trio watched you both disappear down the hall. Ash crossed her arms, a curious look on her face. “Im glad to have found out she’s not just some glitter clone.”

“Nope,” Larry agreed. “She’s cool. Like, actually so cool.”

Todd smiled faintly. “And Sal likes her. That much is obvious.”

Ash gave a small nod, the corner of her mouth twitching up. “Yeah. He really does.” for once, none of them said anything snarky.

[niche-pastiche]

I still occasionally think about the time I renamed your dog KORN in a dream. It was such a vivid dream.

I had a dream about your chihuahua. I dreamed you ran a contest on your blog to change his name and in the end there were two names that tied for best name. You liked them because they were 'viking names' whatever that means. The names were Ka'arl and j0RN (spelled like that) and you combined the two together and renamed spring KORN. I'm never going to remember his actual name now. He'll always be KORN to me from now on.

KORN is an excellent name for our dumbass, thank you!!! 

[elicathebunny]

FINALLY CLOSING THE GAP BETWEEN YOU AND YOUR HIGHEST SELF IN 2024.

You are going to STOP scrolling endlessly for self-help and advice content and you are going to STOP and apply the knowledge you have endlessly gained. Obtaining help and advice knowledge is useless if it goes through one ear and comes straight out the other. STOP becoming addicted to the idea of scrolling and scrolling for your problems yet you already have the resources to fix them. A fool is a person who cannot decide to take action despite having access to the information needed to do so.

BREAKING FREE FROM THE SCROLLING CYCLE

Learning and Applying is one thing, but Learning and Staying Stationary is literally brain rot. You're addicted to the idea of change and the end result, but you never take the steps towards discipline with a personal structure to get that result. You keep looking for quick fixes and easy hacks, but life is not a quick fix and no hack can elevate your life from 0% to 100% without visiting the rest of the numbers first.

TAKE A BREAK FROM SCROLLING

Take time away from your usual scrolling and learn to be on your own. Learn your own ways of self-care, learn what works for you and understand what you need, because nobody is the same. Following a millionaire's morning routine will not make you a millionaire. This routine has worked for someone to feel and be productive in the morning and was probably curated over the years to suit their current lifestyle. So, seeing other people's successes and comparing their working ways to your life is unrealistic if you are not in a position to implement them. Going straight from 0% (Being unproductive and procrastinating) to 100% (Being incredibly Productive and in tune with self) will not be sustainable for someone who has not built the discipline and the inner foundations required for it. STOP seeing information online and taking it without ALTERING anything to your personal situation.

STOP ASKING HOW TO AND JUST DO

"How to lose weight, How to become more social, How to do this and that"

Most of these things you ALREADY know the answer to. Everybody knows that to lose weight, you need to burn more than you consume. There is literally no other way, no magic and no secret hack, just that simple fact. I guarantee you know that to become more social you just have to be social. Learn to be comfortable in social situations which will require inner work, but it's not a difficult concept. Most of us know what we need to do, yet we still try to find quick fixes or another way that same message is presented to us differently. We act as if we are improving and developing on our "improvement" journey yet we are just finding coping ways to feel like we are moving, yet we are still in the exact same place as before. I know you know what to do, I know you have researched what you should do and ways you can do it. So why are you not doing it? Why are you still not where you want to be? If you are not where you want to be, then what you're currently doing needs to change. You cannot do the exact same thing you've been doing for years and expect a different outcome. You need to curate a routine suited to your needs that is realistic and achievable to adopt.

LEARNING TO MOVE ON YOUR OWN, STOP DEPENDING ON OTHERS TO FUEL YOUR SUCCESS JOURNEY LISTEN TO: NOBODY IS COMING TO SAVE YOU BY JULIENHIMSELF Make yourself your safe space, your foundation. When you see yourself in the mirror you should be able to tell yourself "I love you", you should be so sure in what you do that nobody else can contradict what you believe in yourself, this is the end goal of self-improvement. Many of us have put aside our goals because we "are not ready", "people may judge us" or "I need to be/achieve ___ to.." Now don't get me wrong, I'm on this journey with you. I write on this blog to teach my brain how to think in the higher mindset that I'm creating for myself. I too have thoughts like this which is why in 2024 we are going to break out of our old selves to make room for our new selves together. We have to lose ourselves to find ourselves. If you're mood and self-worth are controlled by other people's opinions, then you will never advance further with yourself and will remain stationary. You have to stop allowing other people to determine whether you are allowed to pursue your desires or if you shouldn't because of fear of rejection. Don't take life too seriously, we are only here for so much time. So what if people make fun of you? In a few years will you look back and be proud and fulfilled of your past or feel regret and disappointment? LISTEN TO: WHY YOU CARE SO MUCH BY JULIANHIMSELF + LISTEN TO: HOW TO DETACH BY VICKITA TRIVEDI

The only way to get to 0%-100% is by doing.

Embody your potential

[fuckyeahgoodomens]

Peter Anderson: Hi, my name is Peter Anderson. I'm from Peter Anderson Studio and we created the title sequence to Good Omens Season Two. So this scene is quite literally a continuation from Season One.

An interesting detail with this scene is the fly. The fly is significant because it stores Gabriel's memory.

Gabriel is hidden in every scene. This is the first time we see it.

This goat is half bird, half goat, representing a mistake in a moment of transformation.

In the pickled herring barrel, we have literally red herrings sticking out.

A lot of the gravestones have hidden engravings, easter eggs, all written by Neil.

[This one says: HERE LIES THE FORMER SHELL OF BEELZEBUB referncing Beelzebub having a new face in S2 :), another ones are: EVERYDAY, JANE AUSTEN, Here lies ADAM (the Adam from Adam and Eve is meant)]

Another hidden Gabriel.

Our same character that was trying to escape Hell in Season One titles is also trying to escape here, moving in the opposite direction to the rest of the procession. Except this time he's apprehended and dragged back into the procession.

Our Hell spider from episode four makes a little appearance in the background here.

Can you tell where the bus is going? Director Douglas McKinnon selected Powell and Pressburger's Stairway to Heaven to put on the billboard.

Another thing to note here is the type is all handmade specifically for Good Omens. The Alphabet only exists within the show.

The big floating turnip is a nod to Azirafel's magic tricks.

The Ladies of Camelot poster we pulled from the show.

We added plaques to the back of the chairs and Neil chose who to honour.

[There are: A TALE OF TWO CITIES by CHARLES DICKENS, PRIDE AND PREJUDICE by JANE AUSTEN, THE CROW ROAD by IAIN BANKS (twice!) and GOOD OMENS by TERRY PRATCHETT (Neil missing for some reason :) <3)]

Saraqael made an appearance from Heaven.

Our Space is back from Season One. Aziraphale and Crowley are having a little dance here. A moment of flirtation. There's a tiny planet in the middle that comes into existence at this moment.

Our Scottish tartan hills make an appearance here.

The aeroplane and the airline is a little bit of a clue here.

[THY KINGDOM AIRWAYS 👀]

It's raining love hearts in reference to Aziraphale's attempt at making Maggie and Nina fall in love.

Here are elevators to Heaven and Hell. A wee thing to spot. Here is Gabriel in the lift arriving from Heaven.

We've updated our flags to reference some of the plotlines in Season Two. For example, The Second Coming.

The movie poster artwork changes every week, representing the episode plotlines and the minisodes. We made the posters to look like the time period and in this case we've got a Good Omens version of Buddy Holly.

[The posters are:]

In the snack bar some of our popcorn is actually communion wafers.

There are specific characters from Season One in the boxes watching the movie as the procession goes by. This includes some of our original concept art from Season One.

The duck playing the accordion is from a newspaper headline that someone is reading in The Dirty Donkey from one of the episodes.

[this is also from the Good Omens book :): "Daily Mail. 'Letter From America.' Um, August the third," said Newt. "Just after the story about the woman in Worms, Nebraska, who taught her duck to play the accordion."]

Each episode is showing a new movie on the screen, each one selected by Douglas, and has clues about what's to come.

The season one phone box tumbles in the background.

The big mountain is made of all the ingredients from Season Two and a couple of remnants from Season One. We are heading towards the biggest Easter Egg, which is the lift. We're heading towards the Second Coming..

[seospicybin]

I PUT A SPELL ON YOU TOO.

Hyunjin x reader. (s,a)

Related chapter: I Put A Spell On You.

Synopsis: Having a common enemy, you and Hyunjin work together to secure your futures. With your witchcraft, the plan sets in motion, the boundaries between right and wrong blur, and secrets begin to unravel, leaving you and Hyunjin bound by more than just circumstance. (22,4k words)

Author's note: It's Friday the 13th, join the circle and enjoy this piece of magic ♡

I PUT A SPELL ON YOU PLAYLIST 🎧

Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. Neither the story, the characters nor the spells are real (but if it works, do tell me though!)

The first light of dawn filters through the blinds, painting faint golden streaks across the walls. The air is thick with the scent of burning sage, the smoke curling lazily upward before dissipating into the stillness of the room. 

You stand barefoot before the altar, its surface a collection of well-worn spellbooks, crystals, and a single flickering candle. The morning ritual is second nature to you now—a daily reminder of the power simmering beneath your skin, waiting to be unleashed. 

With steady hands, you trace the sigil carved into the small bowl before you. The words come easily, slipping past your lips like a promise: 

“With fire in my veins and steel in my spine. Today the world bends, and all power is mine.” 

The candle flame responds, leaping higher for a moment before settling back into its steady glow. The familiar hum of energy vibrates through your body, faint but undeniable. It’s not enough yet—your magic is still rebuilding, still growing—but it’s there. A spark, waiting to ignite. 

You inhale deeply, the air filling your lungs with a mix of hope and resolve. Every day brings you closer to reclaiming the strength you once had, closer to the moment when the world will finally recognize your worth. 

Reaching for the almanac resting at the edge of your altar, you flip to the marked date. The book feels heavy in your hands, the weight of countless predictions and warnings etched into its pages. Your eyes skim the delicate handwriting, pausing on the entry for today: 

"The winds shift in the favor of the wary, but beware those who wield false crowns. Their power is fleeting, but their reach is long." 

A chill runs through you, the words sinking in like a stone in still water. False crowns. Your mind flickers to the new CEO, the unsettling man who now occupies the highest seat in the company. You’ve felt his shadow looming since the day he arrived, his presence like a storm cloud waiting to break. 

You close the almanac with a soft thud, the foreboding message settling heavily in your chest. The city stirs outside your window, but in this quiet moment, it feels as though time stands still. 

You glance at your reflection in the nearby mirror, studying the determination etched into your features. You’ve come so far, yet there’s still so much to do. 

Today is just another step forward, another piece of the puzzle. Whatever challenges lie ahead, you’ll face them head-on. The world doesn’t know it yet, but its days of underestimating you are numbered. 

“Today the world bends, and all power is mine.” 

-

The elevator doors slide open with a soft chime, and there he is—Hyunjin. Perfectly dressed as always, his hair immaculate, his expression cool and distant. He steps in without a glance in your direction, his presence commanding the small space like a storm that doesn’t need to rage to be felt. You step back to give him room, not that he notices. He presses the button for his floor, and the doors close, sealing you in together. 

The silence is suffocating, a weight pressing down on your chest. You’ve grown used to this—his deliberate ignorance, the way he carries himself as though you don’t exist. It’s not new, but it doesn’t hurt any less. 

The memory of his smile, the warmth of his laughter, and the fleeting moments when he looked at you like you were the only person in the world flash through your mind. It’s almost cruel, how vivid those memories are, knowing they mean nothing to him now. To Hyunjin, it’s as if none of it ever happened—as if the love spell never existed, as if you never existed. 

You bite the inside of your cheek, willing yourself not to let it show. After all, no one knows the truth but you. The weight of it is yours alone to carry. Every stolen glance, every pang of longing, every ounce of guilt—it’s all yours. You shift your gaze to the floor, pretending to study the polished tiles. You can’t let yourself get lost in the what-ifs again. 

When the elevator chimes for his floor, he steps out without so much as a glance in your direction. No words. Not even a polite nod.  You let out a soft sigh once the doors close again, leaning back against the wall. Despite everything—despite his indifference, his coldness, the way he behaves as if you’re a stranger—you can’t bring yourself to feel anything but pride when you think about him. 

Hyunjin’s name has been buzzing in the office lately. The whispers of his upcoming promotion are impossible to miss, and the thought of him moving up fills you with quiet satisfaction. He deserves it. Every bit of it. He’s one of the hardest-working people you’ve ever met, and no amount of his harshness toward you can erase that.

For all that’s happened—or hasn’t happened, in his mind—you wish him nothing but the best. It’s a bittersweet truth, but one you’ve come to accept. The elevator finally stops at your floor, and you straighten your shoulders, ready to face the day.

-

The elevator doors slide open, and Hyunjin steps out, his polished shoes clicking softly against the marble floor. As he moves through the hallway, his mind lingers on the ride he just shared with you. 

He hadn’t meant to notice, but he did. That look again—sad and distant, like you were carrying the weight of something invisible. Like you were carrying him. 

It’s not the first time he’s caught it, either. The way your eyes linger on him, quiet and heavy with something he can’t name. It unsettles him, that expression. Almost as if he’s hurt you somehow. 

He frowns, shaking the thought away as he reaches his office. You’re just a coworker, someone he passes in the halls. Whatever story you’ve written for yourself, whatever sadness you carry—it has nothing to do with him. It *can’t.* Hyunjin sets his bag down on his desk and exhales slowly, trying to refocus. There’s too much on his plate today to be distracted by fleeting glances and unanswered questions. He sits, pulling his laptop open, and begins sorting through the mountain of emails waiting for him. 

Barely an hour has passed when his desk phone rings. 

“Hyunjin, can you come to my office for a moment?” Mr. Campbell’s voice is clipped, leaving no room for interpretation. 

“Of course, sir,” Hyunjin replies, already standing. He smooths his jacket, preparing himself for what he assumes is good news. After all, the whispers of his impending promotion have been growing louder by the day. 

The walk to Mr. Campbell’s office feels longer than usual, but Hyunjin steadies his nerves. This is it, he thinks. Finally, recognition for all his hard work. 

But when he steps into the office, Mr. Campbell’s expression isn’t celebratory. If anything, it’s tight with discomfort. 

“Have a seat,” Mr. Campbell says, gesturing to the chair across from his desk. Hyunjin hesitates but complies. 

“I’ll get straight to the point,” Mr. Campbell begins, folding his hands together. “You’ve been an exceptional employee, Hyunjin. Your performance has been nothing short of stellar, and I’ve personally been advocating for your promotion.” 

Hyunjin’s heart begins to race, anticipation bubbling in his chest. 

“However,” Mr. Campbell continues, his tone taking a sharp turn, “with the new CEO stepping into the role, there have been… adjustments. Your promotion has been postponed.” 

The words hit like a punch to the gut. “Postponed?” Hyunjin echoes, his voice tight with disbelief. 

“Yes. The position you were being considered for has been filled by someone else, chosen directly by the CEO, Mr. Hargrave himself.” 

Hyunjin blinks, struggling to process the words. The work, the late nights, the endless hours of proving himself—it was all for nothing? 

“With all due respect, sir,” Hyunjin says, his voice rising slightly, “this is unfair. I’ve worked hard for that promotion. I’ve earned it.” 

“I don’t disagree,” Mr. Campbell says, his tone apologetic but firm. “But this decision is out of my hands. The CEO has made his choice.” 

Hyunjin clenches his fists, anger simmering beneath the surface. “So, that’s it? Years of dedication mean nothing?” 

“I understand your frustration,” Mr. Campbell replies. “But I need you to remain professional about this. There will be other opportunities.” 

Hyunjin stands abruptly, his chair scraping against the floor. He doesn’t trust himself to say anything more without letting his anger slip entirely. 

“Thank you for your time,” he says curtly, turning on his heel and leaving the office. 

As he stalks back to his desk, the weight of the conversation settles heavily on his shoulders. The unfairness of it burns in his chest. How could this happen? How could they just take everything he’s worked for and hand it to someone else? 

His jaw tightens as he sits back down, trying to focus, but the injustice keeps replaying in his mind. He’s not just upset—he’s furious. 

And for the first time in a long time, Hyunjin feels something dangerous brewing beneath the surface. 

-

The boardroom feels unusually tense this morning. The usual low buzz of pre-meeting chatter is muted, replaced by an air of nervous anticipation. It’s your first meeting with Flint Hargrave, the new CEO, and even without the rumors, you’d know he’s not a man to be trifled with. 

You take a seat at the long, polished table, your folder of documents in front of you. Flint hasn’t arrived yet, but you’ve already heard the whispers—he’s harsh, demanding, and utterly unyielding. A few employees exchange worried glances as they shuffle their papers, the tension palpable. 

When the doors open, all conversation ceases. Flint strides into the room, his presence immediately commanding attention. He’s tall and sharply dressed, his suit immaculate. His expression is unreadable, but his eyes—cold, piercing, and calculating—scan the room like he’s sizing up prey. 

You don’t falter under his gaze. If he’s looking for weakness, he won’t find it here. 

As the meeting begins, you wait for your turn, forcing yourself to focus. When it finally comes, you stand, walking to the head of the room where the projector is already set up. Taking a deep breath, you begin your presentation. 

Your voice is steady as you explain your proposal, detailing the steps, objectives, and the benefits it would bring to both the company and its employees. You make eye contact with the board members and occasionally glance at Flint, gauging his reaction. 

Unlike some higher-ups, Flint doesn’t interrupt or appear distracted. He leans slightly forward, his hands folded on the table, giving you his full attention. His gaze is steady and sharp, making you feel like you’re under a microscope. 

By the time you finish, you feel a flicker of hope. Maybe Flint isn’t the tyrant everyone claims he is. 

The room is silent for a moment before Flint speaks for the first time. 

“Thank you,” he begins, his tone professional but firm. “Your presentation was clear, and the proposal has merit.” 

You feel a small sense of relief. 

“However,” Flint continues, his gaze locking onto yours, “I have a few adjustments I’d like to make before I approve this.” 

He leans back slightly, his tone calm but carrying an edge of authority as he outlines his demands. The adjustments he proposes are subtle but significant, reshaping the very purpose of your proposal. They would disserve the employees, prioritizing cost-cutting and efficiency over fairness and well-being. 

You clench your hands beneath the table, keeping your expression neutral. As he speaks, you realize this isn’t just a misunderstanding—Flint knows exactly what he’s doing. 

When he finishes, you respond as diplomatically as possible. “Thank you for your input, Mr. Hargrave. However, I believe these adjustments might undermine the goals of the proposal, particularly in terms of employee satisfaction and long-term productivity.” 

Flint doesn’t flinch and daringly holds your gaze. “I appreciate your perspective, but my priority is ensuring that the company operates at maximum efficiency. Your proposal is promising, but it needs to align with those objectives.” 

“But,” you persist, your tone steady, “if we implement those changes, it could lead to dissatisfaction among the employees, which in turn could impact overall morale and performance. This proposal was designed to balance both efficiency and employee well-being.” 

Flint leans forward, his sharp eyes narrowing slightly. “This isn’t a negotiation. If you want my approval, you’ll make the adjustments.” 

The room falls silent. Every pair of eyes is on you, waiting to see how you’ll respond. You swallow your frustration, your mind racing. Flint isn’t just demanding changes—he’s testing you, pushing to see how far you’ll bend. 

“Understood,” you say finally, your voice even. You won’t give him the satisfaction of seeing you rattle. 

Flint nods, his expression unreadable. “Good. I expect the revised proposal on my desk by the end of the week.” 

As the meeting adjourns, you gather your materials, your stomach sinking. Flint has made it clear that he’s not a man who compromises—and now you’re left to figure out how to deal with him. 

-

The meeting room empties slowly, the air still charged with the weight of Flint’s words. You gather your things methodically, trying to shake the tension from your shoulders.

As you step out, the sight of Hyunjin catches your attention. He’s on your floor. For a moment, your heart stirs with hope, and you almost smile.

Has he finally been promoted? The thought alone is enough to bring a flicker of happiness amidst the dread of Flint’s demands. 

But that moment of hope is short-lived. 

Hyunjin’s stride is brisk, his jaw tight, his whole body radiating anger. He brushes past you without so much as a glance, his eyes locked on one target: Flint. 

You pause, watching as he storms toward the man who’s still lingering near the doorway of the meeting room, flanked by his assistant. 

“You!” Hyunjin’s voice echoes across the floor, sharp and furious. Heads turn as his words cut through the low hum of office chatter. “How dare you sabotage my promotion!” 

Flint doesn’t flinch, his expression as calm as ever. If anything, his interest seems mildly piqued, as though Hyunjin’s outburst is merely an inconvenience he anticipated. 

Hyunjin doesn’t stop, one index finger pointed at Flint’s chest. “I’ve worked my ass off for this position! I’ve earned it!” His voice rises with every word. “You think you can just walk in here and decide I’m not good enough? You don’t even know me!” 

The assistant takes a nervous step back, but Flint doesn’t move. His hands rest loosely at his sides, his gaze locked on Hyunjin with unsettling composure. 

“Mr. Hwang,” Flint finally says, his voice smooth and unbothered. “I understand you’re upset—” 

“Upset?” Hyunjin snaps, cutting him off. “Upset doesn’t even begin to cover it. You’re not fit to be CEO if this is how you run things! Favoring people who haven’t put in half the work I have? What kind of leadership is that?” 

You stand frozen, your files clutched tightly in your hands. You’ve seen Hyunjin upset before, but this is different. His rage is fiery, unrestrained, and for a moment, you wonder if he’s about to lunge at Flint. 

But Flint remains unshaken. His calm is unnerving, as if he’s watching a predictable scene unfold rather than being the target of Hyunjin’s anger. 

Security steps in before things escalate further. Two guards approach swiftly, placing themselves between Hyunjin and Flint. 

“That’s enough, Mr. Hwang,” one of them says firmly, motioning for Hyunjin to step back. 

Hyunjin clenches his fists, his jaw tight. For a moment, it looks like he might resist, but after a tense pause, he takes a step back, his breathing heavy and labored. 

“This isn’t over,” Hyunjin mutters, his glare piercing. 

The guards escort him away, leaving a stunned silence in their wake. You glance back at Flint, hoping to gauge his reaction, but his expression remains unreadable. 

As the hallway clears, Flint turns to his assistant, his voice low but deliberate. “Have Hwang’s file on my desk. Immediately.” 

The assistant nods and rushes off without a word. 

Your stomach sinks. You’ve already seen how Flint operates—calculated and unyielding. And now, with Hyunjin’s outburst, it’s clear he’s caught Flint’s attention in the worst way. 

A chill runs down your spine as you walk back to your desk, your thoughts racing. Flint doesn’t let things go. He doesn’t forgive. And after what you’ve just witnessed, you can’t shake the feeling that he’s already planning something sinister for Hyunjin. 

You sit down, your hands trembling slightly as you replay the scene in your mind. Hyunjin’s fiery passion versus Flint’s icy composure—it’s a clash that could destroy everything. 

And for the first time, you wonder if Hyunjin’s rage will be his downfall. 

-

The night is heavy with silence, broken only by the soft rustling of pages as you flip through your book of spells. The faint light from a single candle flickers, casting long shadows across your workspace. The book lies open before you, its yellowed pages filled with faded script and intricate diagrams. 

Your eyes scan the instructions, pausing on a ritual for protection. It’s a spell you’ve never attempted before, but tonight, it feels necessary. Flint’s chilling composure and whispered orders earlier still linger in your mind, and the memory of Hyunjin’s fiery rage has etched itself into your heart. 

You gather the ingredients, laying them out meticulously: A sprig of rosemary for clarity and purification. A small piece of obsidian for shielding against negativity. A dried bay leaf for protection. A strand of your own hair, tying your energy to the spell. 

You pull out a small black pouch and place it beside the items. The air feels charged as you light a bundle of sage, letting the smoke cleanse the space. You place the rosemary and obsidian into the pouch first, followed by the bay leaf. With each addition, you focus on Hyunjin—his face, his energy, his fiery determination. Finally, you add the strand of your hair, knotting the ends to hold your intent firmly in place. 

With the pouch in your hands, you draw a protective circle around yourself with chalk, marking the edges with small crystals. Sitting cross-legged at its center, you hold the pouch close to your heart, the candlelight reflecting in your eyes. 

Taking a deep breath, you chant: “By leaf and stone, by flame and thread. Shield him well from paths of dread. Let no harm pierce, let no ill stay. Protect him now, by night and day.”

You repeat the words three times, your voice steady, each syllable carrying your intent into the universe. As you chant, you feel a warmth build in your chest, spreading through your hands and into the pouch. The air grows still, as if the world is holding its breath. 

When the final word leaves your lips, the candle flickers wildly before extinguishing itself, leaving you in darkness. A shiver runs down your spine, but you know the ritual is complete. 

Carefully, you tie the pouch shut with a red thread, knotting it three times for strength. You hold it in your hands, the weight of it light yet significant. 

“This will protect you,” you whisper, imagining Hyunjin’s face. “This will keep you safe.” 

For a moment, you allow yourself to hope. Even if Hyunjin never knows what you’ve done for him, even if he never remembers what you once shared, at least you can still protect him. 

-

The office is unusually quiet during lunch breaks, and you know this is your best chance. Taking a deep breath, you reach into your bag and pull out the small talisman you crafted for Hyunjin. 

The pouch feels warm in your hand, almost pulsing with the protective magic you infused into it. You look around to make sure no one is watching and quickly make your way to Hyunjin’s desk. His briefcase is propped open, papers and files neatly organized inside. With steady hands, you slip the talisman into one of the inner compartments, tucking it safely beneath a folder. 

A sense of relief washes over you as you straighten up. It’s done. Hyunjin might not know it, but he has a layer of protection now. Even if you’re unsure of how strong your magic is, you’ve done everything you can to help him. 

You return to your desk, a small flicker of hope settling in your chest. Despite everything, you’ve done something good for him. 

Later that day, as the clock approaches the hour for your meeting with Flint, an uneasy feeling creeps into your stomach. The hallway to his office feels colder than usual, the air heavy with an unspoken tension. Clutching your notebook to your chest, you silently chant your usual spell under your breath as you walk: 

“With fire in my veins and steel in my spine. Today the world bends, and all power is mine.”

The words give you a fragile sense of courage, but it falters when you reach the heavy oak door. Taking a deep breath, you knock. 

“Come in,” Flint’s voice calls, low and authoritative. 

You step inside, shutting the door softly behind you. Flint is seated at his desk, an imposing figure with a sharp suit and an even sharper gaze. The room smells faintly of leather and coffee, and the blinds are half-drawn, casting slanted shadows across the desk. 

As you stand there, your eyes flicker briefly to the stack of files on his desk. Among them, unmistakably, is Hyunjin’s file. Your stomach tightens, but you quickly shift your focus back to Flint as he speaks. 

“Well?” Flint says, his tone cool but demanding. “Have you made the adjustments I requested?” 

You hesitate, choosing your words carefully. “I’ve reviewed your demands, sir, and I wanted to suggest a few alternative approaches that could meet the company’s goals without—”  Flint raises a hand, silencing you. His gaze is sharp, almost predatory. “Let me stop you right there. I wasn’t asking for alternatives. I was asking if you’ve done what I told you to do.” 

Swallowing hard, you summon your courage. “With all due respect, sir, I don’t believe those adjustments align with the purpose of my proposal. They would negatively impact employee morale, and—” 

Flint leans back in his chair, a slow, cruel smirk spreading across his face. “You’re quite bold, aren’t you? I admire your spirit, though I’m starting to wonder if it’s misplaced.” 

The air in the room grows heavier as he continues, his voice cutting like a blade. “You know, for someone in your position, you’d think you’d know better than to argue with your superior. Maybe this is why women like you struggle to make it past middle management.” 

His words hit you like a slap, but you keep your expression steady. “I don’t see why that has something to do with my ability to do my job, Mr. Hargrave?” you ask, your voice firm but controlled. 

Flint’s smirk doesn’t waver. Instead, he leans forward, his elbows resting on the desk, his fingers steepled. “Oh, I’m sure you think that. But let me remind you, this isn’t about fairness or ideals. This is about doing what you’re told.” 

You feel your pulse quicken, your grip on your notebook tightening as he continues. 

“If you want to keep rebelling against me,” he says, his tone almost taunting, “go right ahead. But I’d be very careful if I were you. You might not like what happens next.” 

For a moment, you’re frozen, staring at him as the weight of his words settles over you. Flint is dangerous—more dangerous than you realized. His calm demeanor only makes him more threatening, and you’re reminded once again that this is not a man to cross. 

Summoning what little composure you have left, you nod. “Understood, sir,” you say, your voice quieter now. 

Flint leans back in his chair, satisfied, and waves a hand dismissively. “Good. Now, get back to work.” 

You turn on your heel and leave the office, your heart pounding as you step into the hallway. The door clicks shut behind you, and only then do you allow yourself to take a shaky breath. 

Walking back to your desk, you can’t shake the image of Hyunjin’s file sitting on Flint’s desk. Whatever Flint is planning, it won’t just affect you—it’ll affect him too. And no matter how dangerous Flint is, you know you have to do something. 

-

A few days have passed, and you begin to feel a slight sense of relief. The talisman is working, or at least you hope it is. Despite seeing Hyunjin's file on Flint’s desk that day, nothing significant has happened. Hyunjin still walks through the halls, just as indifferent as ever. And you... well, you’re still the same.

Watching him from afar, your heart quietly aching for the bond you both shared, but knowing it’s gone, just like the magic you once cast on him.

As usual, you take the elevator down to the parking basement, stealing glances at Hyunjin from the corner of your eye. The elevator is crowded, and it’s hard to even think of doing anything but keeping your distance.

The silence between you two is deafening, as if the space around you had a barrier, both emotional and physical. You want to say something, anything, but the words are lost before they can even form.

The elevator dings, signaling your stop. The doors open, and you step out, your eyes lowering to the ground as you make your way toward your car. You tell yourself to let go of the past, but the weight of it lingers, thick in the air.

You unlock the door to your car, your hand trembling slightly as you grip the handle.

"Wait."

You spin around at the sound of Hyunjin’s voice, your heart pounding in your chest. Before you can react, he grabs your elbow and flips you around, his grip firm but not painful. The world seems to slow as you look up into his eyes—eyes that are no longer filled with warmth but something else. Something searching.

“What is this?” Hyunjin demands, holding up the small talisman you slipped into his briefcase, his expression tense, almost accusing. His eyes narrow as he waits for your answer.

Your heart drops into your stomach. You hadn't expected this. He found it. The talisman.

"It's... it’s uh..." you say, trying to steady your voice, but it comes out quieter than you intended. "A talisman."

His grip tightens around your wrist, his expression hardening. “A talisman?” His tone is sharp with disbelief. "What did you do to me? Did you curse me?"

The accusation stings, but you quickly shake your head. "No, no curse. It’s meant to protect you."

He doesn't let go of your wrist. "Protect me?" His eyes search yours, but there's a flicker of something else—suspicion. "Why would you protect me?"

The question hangs in the air, and you feel the truth swelling in your chest, but you can’t speak it. The reason you want to protect him... because you care. You care too much. But you can’t admit that to him. Not now. Not when everything between you has been reduced to this awkward distance.

You swallow hard and blur the truth. "I saw your file on Flint’s desk. I know he plans on doing something to you. I don’t want you to get hurt," you say quickly.

"And I hate Flint too. I do. I know this one spell so I think we could work together to take him down. I just need your—”

You can feel his grip falter slightly, but then his gaze flickers to something else entirely. Something that causes the hairs on the back of your neck to stand on end.

"Wait... are you saying you actually practice witchcraft?" he asks, his voice shaking with a mix of incredulity and fear.

The world spins. You don’t even know how to respond. You could lie, but his eyes are burning into yours, and for some reason, lying doesn’t feel like an option. Not now.

"Yes," you say softly, unable to stop yourself.

He stares at you in silence for a long moment, and you feel as if the air has been sucked out of the world around you. You can see the wheels turning in his mind, the shock, the disbelief, the fear all rising to the surface. It’s too much. Too much for him to process.

And then, before you can say anything else, you hear it—the words you never wanted to hear.

“Stay away from me.”

The coldness in his voice cuts through you like a blade. It’s like an icy wall has been erected between you, one you can’t get past. The small spark of hope you’d held onto—the hope that Hyunjin might remember, might somehow feel something for you again—dies in that instant.

You take a step back, unable to move for a moment, before you finally blink and lower your gaze. His words echo in your mind, a cruel reminder of how much you’ve lost.

“Hyunjin, I—”

He interrupts, his tone harsh now. “I don’t want anything to do with you. Don’t ever come near me again. Don’t use your... your magic on me.”

His words sting, like acid on an open wound. And all you can do is nod, silent tears stinging at the corners of your eyes.

He turns and walks away, leaving you standing there. The good you tried to do has backfired completely. The last shred of hope you had is shattered.

And now, it’s clear: Hyunjin will never see you the way you want him to.

-

Hyunjin’s jaw tightens when he spots you heading toward the elevator at the same time as him. His gaze sharpens, and he throws you a glare as if to remind you of the boundary he firmly set. You stop in your tracks, hesitating as if his silent warning alone is enough to keep you at bay.

The elevator doors slide open, and Hyunjin steps inside without sparing you another glance. But just before the doors close, he catches that look on your face again—the same sad, almost resigned expression that’s been haunting him lately. It lingers in his mind for a moment before he forces it away with a shake of his head.

Arriving at the office floor, Hyunjin immediately senses something is off. Several of his colleagues are gathered around his desk, rifling through his drawers and gathering his belongings. Anger bubbles to the surface as he storms over.

“What the hell are you doing with my stuff?” Hyunjin demands, his voice cutting through the commotion.

One of his coworkers flinches, looking away uncomfortably, while another mutters, “Sorry, Hyunjin, we were told—”

“Told by who?” he snaps, but before he can press further, someone places a firm hand on his shoulder.

“Hyunjin,” comes the calm yet weary voice of Mr. Campbell, his superior. “I need you to come with me to my office.”

Hyunjin hesitates, his eyes darting to the boxed-up items on his desk. “What’s going on?”

Mr. Campbell only sighs and gestures for him to follow. Reluctantly, Hyunjin obeys, but unease twists in his stomach as he steps into the office.

Once seated, Mr. Campbell doesn’t waste time. “Hyunjin, the company has received an anonymous tip that you’ve been sharing confidential intel with a competitor.”

The words hit Hyunjin like a punch to the gut. His brow furrows in disbelief. “What? That’s ridiculous! I would never—”

“I know, and frankly, I don’t believe it either,” Mr. Campbell interjects. “But these are serious allegations, and the audit team is already investigating. Until they conclude their review, you’re suspended.”

Hyunjin shoots to his feet, his frustration boiling over. “This is Flint, isn’t it? He’s trying to get rid of me!”

Mr. Campbell raises a hand to calm him. “Hyunjin, I understand your anger, but making accusations without evidence will only make things worse for you. If you want to keep your job, I suggest you go home and let the audit team do their work.”

Hyunjin clenches his fists, his mind racing. Every fiber of his being screams at him to march straight into Flint’s office and confront him, but Mr. Campbell’s warning rings in his ears. After a tense moment, he exhales sharply and storms out of the office.

This isn’t over. Not by a long shot.

-

Instead of heading home as Mr. Campbell suggested, Hyunjin finds himself at a bar, nursing a glass of whiskey in the middle of the day. The amber liquid burns his throat, but it’s a welcome distraction from the storm brewing in his mind. He feels angry, frustrated, and—though he hates to admit it—utterly defeated. Flint had outmaneuvered him, and now he was sidelined, his career hanging by a thread.

He shoves a hand into his coat pocket, his fingers brushing against something unfamiliar. Frowning, he pulls it out and stares at the small pouch you had slipped into his briefcase. The talisman.

For a moment, he debates tossing it right then and there, but something stops him. He knows he should’ve burned it the second he discovered it, should’ve gotten rid of it if he truly believed it might bring him bad luck. Yet, as he observes it now, he feels a flicker of curiosity rather than fear.

Your words echo in his mind. “I hate Flint too. We could work together to take him down.”

Hyunjin takes another sip of his drink, the idea slowly settling in. Teaming up with you doesn’t seem entirely ridiculous anymore. After all, the enemy of his enemy should be his ally. But before he makes any decisions, he wants to confirm something first.

By the time he steps out of the bar, the sun has already begun its descent. With his phone in hand, he searches for the address of a shop he’d found online earlier—a place that specializes in witchcraft. It’s not long before he arrives at an unassuming storefront with a sign that reads “Moonlit Mystics.”

The moment Hyunjin pushes open the door, he’s hit by the pungent scent of sage. The interior is dimly lit, cluttered with shelves full of crystals, candles, herbs, and other esoteric items. It’s exactly what he expected, almost to the point of being a cliché.

“Welcome,” a woman’s voice greets him from behind the counter.

Hyunjin turns to see a middle-aged woman with a serene expression, her dark hair streaked with silver. She’s dressed in flowing fabrics, her bracelets jangling as she leans forward.

“Can I help you?” she asks, her voice warm yet curious as she studies him.

Hyunjin hesitates for a second before stepping closer and placing the talisman on the counter. “I found this in my bag and I need your help to know what is this.”

The woman picks it up delicately, her eyes narrowing as she examines it. She unties the pouch and carefully empties the contents—a sprig of rosemary, a small piece of obsidian, and other small tokens—onto the counter.

“This,” she says, her tone thoughtful, “is a protection talisman.”

Hyunjin stiffens. “Protection?”

She nods, pointing at each item as she explains. “The rosemary wards off negative energy, the obsidian absorbs harmful intentions, and the other elements… they’re all chosen to shield the bearer from harm. Whoever made this put a lot of care into it.”

Hyunjin stares at the talisman, a strange mixture of relief and unease washing over him. Your explanation was true. There was no curse, no sinister intent—just protection.

“That’s all?” he asks, needing the reassurance one more time.

The woman smiles and slides the opened talisman back to him. “That’s all. You’ve got nothing to fear from this.”

Hyunjin thanks her quietly and leaves the shop, slipping the talisman back into his pocket. As he steps into the cool evening air, a thought settles in his mind.

Maybe you weren’t as dangerous as he’d first assumed.

-

Your fingers skim over the faded pages of the spellbook, the faint scent of aged parchment and herbs filling the air around you. The ritual you’ve been studying for days is intricate, layered with steps that demand precision and, more dauntingly, someone else’s involvement.

You’ve read and reread every line, trying to find a way to execute it alone. Hyunjin is no longer an option, and though the thought leaves a bitter pang in your chest, you know you can’t afford distractions. Flint has to be dealt with, and you can’t let emotions—especially feelings for someone who now despises you—get in the way.

A sharp knock at the door snaps you out of your thoughts. You jolt upright, your heartbeat quickening. You aren’t expecting anyone, and for a moment, paranoia creeps in. Has Flint somehow discovered your plans? Bracing yourself, you approach the door and crack it open, only to freeze in place.

Hyunjin. It’s impossible not to think of the last time he showed up unannounced. Back then, his smile was warm, lighting up the space between you like a ray of sunshine. Now, that warmth is gone, replaced with a neutral expression that borders on cold. Still, it’s him. And despite everything, seeing him standing there stirs a flicker of hope deep inside you.

“Can I come in?” he asks, his tone low and guarded.

Wordlessly, you step aside, letting him in. Hyunjin walks past you, his gaze sweeping over your small apartment. His eyes linger on the shelves lined with books, jars of herbs, and candles. You can almost see the gears turning in his head as he takes it all in, piecing together your world.

Finally, he turns to face you. “I’ve been thinking about what you said.”

You cross your arms, unsure of where this is going. “What about it?”

“That we could work together to take Flint down.”

Your eyes widen. Of all the things you expected, this wasn’t it. “You’re serious?”

He nods. “We have a common enemy, don’t we? And after everything that’s happened…” He trails off, his jaw tightening. “Let’s just say I’m willing to reconsider.”

You study him carefully, trying to gauge his sincerity. “Why the change of heart?”

Hyunjin shrugs, his tone nonchalant. “Because I hate him. And I think you do too.”

A bitter laugh escapes your lips. “That’s putting it lightly.”

He takes a step closer, his piercing gaze locking onto yours. “So? What’s the plan?”

For a moment, you hesitate. Bringing Hyunjin into your world again—after everything that’s happened—feels risky. But he’s here, willing, and you need his help.

Wordlessly, you walk over to the table where your spellbook lies open and gesture for him to follow. As he approaches, you turn the book toward him, pointing at the page outlining the ritual.

“This,” you say, your voice steady, “is the ultimate plan.”

Hyunjin leans in, his eyes scanning the intricate diagrams and detailed instructions. The more he reads, the more his brows furrow. When he finally straightens up, his expression is a mix of disbelief and intrigue.

“You’re serious about this?” he asks, tilting his head slightly.

“Yes,” you reply.

A smirk tugs at the corner of his lips, breaking the tension in the room. “You’re… something else, you know that?”

You can’t tell if it’s an insult or a compliment, but you choose to ignore it. Instead, you get straight to the point.

“I need you to follow Flint,” you say. “Learn his routine, his habits, where he goes when he’s not at the office. It’ll help me figure out the best time and place to execute this.”

Hyunjin crosses his arms, still smirking. “So I’m your spy now?”

“If you want Flint gone as much as I do, then yes.”

He lets out a soft chuckle, shaking his head. “Fine. I’ll do it. But don’t expect me to believe in all this…” He gestures vaguely at the book. “Magic stuff.”

You meet his gaze, your voice firm. “You don’t have to believe in it. You just have to trust that I know what I’m doing.”

Hyunjin stares at you for a moment longer before nodding. “Alright. Let’s see where this takes us.”

For the first time in days, you feel a glimmer of hope. Maybe, just maybe, the two of you can pull this off.

-

Hyunjin knocks on your door, his mind a whirlwind of frustration. He’s spent the entire day tailing Flint, only to come up empty. Tight security, bodyguards, private drivers—Flint might as well be untouchable. He’s ready to let you know just how impossible your plan is when the door swings open, and there you are.

You don’t look surprised to see him, but your calm demeanor only adds to his irritation. “Come in,” you say simply, stepping aside.

Hyunjin steps into your apartment, glancing around out of habit. The room feels different tonight—dim, shadows stretching across the walls, and that faint smell of something herbal lingering in the air. It makes his skin prickle. His eyes land on the open spellbook on your table, pages marked with symbols he doesn’t understand, and for a second, he wonders just what kind of person he’s teamed up with.

“Did you find anything?” you ask, sitting down at the table.

Hyunjin exhales sharply, dropping into the chair opposite you. “Flint’s a ghost wrapped in money and muscle. He lives in a penthouse with security tighter than a vault. He’s got his assistant slash his bodyguard with him at all times, a driver who doesn’t leave his side, and the only place he goes after work is some exclusive club. And guess what? That place is crawling with security too.”

You nod slowly, processing his words without a hint of panic. It annoys him. “So, no easy access,” you say, almost to yourself.

“None,” Hyunjin says bitterly. “This whole thing is a waste of time.”

But you don’t look deterred. Instead, you lean back in your chair, tapping a finger against the table. “There is one way,” you say, voice steady.

Hyunjin narrows his eyes. “And what’s that?”

“I’ll seduce him.”

He blinks, sure he must have misheard you. “What?”

You meet his stare, unwavering. “If I make him interested in me, I can get close to him. Close enough to do what needs to be done.”

Hyunjin stares at you, caught between disbelief and a strange, simmering unease. “Are you serious? You think Flint would go for someone like you?”

Your lips twitch into a smirk. “You’d be surprised what I can do.”

Something about the confidence in your voice sends a shiver down his spine. He tries to shake it off, folding his arms across his chest. “This is insane. And dangerous.”

“Everything about this is dangerous,” you shoot back, leaning forward now. “But do you have a better idea?”

Hyunjin doesn’t answer. He knows you’re right—there’s no other way. Still, the thought of Flint and you in the same room, let alone this… plan, twists something uncomfortable in his gut.

“What do you need from me?” he asks reluctantly.

“I need you to get something for me,” you say, your tone shifting.

Hyunjin raises an eyebrow. “What?”

“Flint’s hair.”

For a moment, he thinks you’re joking. When your expression doesn’t change, he feels his stomach drop. “His hair? Why the hell do you need that?”

“For a spell,” you say simply, as if that’s supposed to make sense.

Hyunjin stares at you, his jaw tightening. “You’ve got to be kidding me. What kind of spell?”

“It’s better if you don’t know.”

The casual way you dismiss his question only makes his unease grow. He leans forward, trying to read your expression, but you’re impossible to decipher. “You’re asking me to steal a piece of his hair, and you’re not even going to tell me why?”

“Exactly,” you say, meeting his gaze head-on.

Hyunjin leans back, running a hand through his own hair. This is reckless. This is dangerous. And yet…

“Fine,” he says finally. “I’ll figure out a way to get it. But this better not blow up in our faces.”

“It won’t,” you say quickly.

Hyunjin doesn’t believe you, not fully. But he’s already in too deep to back out now. Standing, he shoves his hands into his coat pockets and heads for the door. Before he leaves, he glances back at you, still sitting at that table with your strange book and your even stranger confidence.

“I just hope you know what you’re doing,” he mutters before stepping out into the night.

As the door shuts behind him, a chill creeps up his spine. This alliance feels like walking a tightrope over a pit of flames, but what choice does he have?

-

After Hyunjin leaves, the apartment feels eerily quiet. You close the door and stand there for a moment, staring at the space he just occupied. There’s a heaviness in your chest, but you push it aside. There’s no time to dwell on emotions when there’s so much to be done.

You grab your spellbook from the table and flip through its worn pages, searching for the ritual you need. The words blur slightly under the dim light, but you recognize the spell when you see it—the ritual to enhance allure, to make yourself irresistible, particularly to a specific target.

Flint may be powerful, but magic is older and stronger than any man.

Taking the book with you, you head to the bathroom. You start by filling the tub, the sound of running water echoing around the small space. As the water rises, you gather the ingredients: dried rose petals for attraction, cinnamon for warmth and desire, honey to sweeten your aura, and a single white candle for purity of intention.

You kneel by the tub, the steam rising to kiss your face. One by one, you add the ingredients to the water, watching as the petals swirl and the honey dissolves. The cinnamon spreads like whispers of fire across the surface, and you swirl it all together with your hand, moving clockwise.

Closing your eyes, you begin to chant:

"By water’s flow and fire’s light. Let allure be my gift this night. Rose and honey, sweet and true. Let my charm be seen by you. By earth and air, my power takes flight. Grant me allure, shining bright."

The words feel heavy on your tongue, their weight sinking into the water as you chant. The air in the bathroom shifts, thickening with an unseen energy.

You remove your clothes and step into the tub, the warm, fragrant water enveloping you. A shiver runs through your body—not from the temperature, but from the unmistakable pulse of magic that seems to seep into your skin, wrapping itself around you like a second layer.

As you sink deeper into the water, you chant the spell again, your voice softer this time, almost a whisper:

"By water’s flow and fire’s light. Let allure be my gift this night."

The energy hums beneath your skin, subtle but undeniable. You lean back, letting the water cover your body, and close your eyes. For a moment, you feel powerful, invincible.

When you finally step out of the tub, droplets of enchanted water slide down your skin, leaving behind a faint warmth that lingers. You wrap yourself in a towel, catching a glimpse of your reflection in the mirror. There’s something different in your eyes—something sharper, more confident.

-

The almanac is clear: wear blue today. Blue is the color of trust, calmness, and, most importantly, attraction. It’s a shade that commands attention subtly, not overtly.

You pull out a fitted blouse and a pencil skirt, pairing them with heels that click confidently against the floor as you move. Standing in front of the mirror, you adjust your hair and take a deep breath. This isn’t just about Flint seeing you; it’s about him wanting to see you again.

Arriving at work, you keep your plan simple. Flint always leaves his office at some point during the day—whether it’s for a meeting or simply to make his rounds. That’s when you’ll strike.

You grab a stack of files, deliberately choosing ones that look bulky and hard to manage. The weight of them grounds you, keeping your hands from trembling as you wait near the corridor. Minutes feel like hours, but finally, Flint’s door opens, and he steps out, his usual bodyguard trailing behind him.

You start walking, eyes cast downward, pretending to be absorbed in your papers. Just as he’s about to pass you, you execute your move.

“Oh!” you gasp as you stumble slightly, letting the files slip from your grasp. Papers scatter across the floor in a dramatic mess, a symphony of fluttering pages.

You immediately bend down to pick them up, keeping your movements deliberate. You arch your back slightly, your skirt hugging your curves as you gather the scattered papers.

“I'm so sorry, sir,” you say softly, glancing up at Flint through your lashes. Your tone is humble, apologetic, but not groveling.

For a moment, he does nothing but stare. His expression is unreadable, his sharp eyes watching your every move. Just as you’re starting to feel the tension in the air thicken, he moves. He bends down—not fully, just enough to pick up a stray document near his polished shoe.

“Here,” he says, handing it to you.

“Thank you,” you reply, your fingers brushing his briefly as you take the paper. Your heart beats a little faster, but you keep your composure.

You stand, clutching the files to your chest, and smile shyly. “I’m so sorry again. I wasn’t paying attention.”

For a moment, your eyes meet his, and you take your chance. Quietly, subtly, you chant the spell in your mind:

"With this gaze, let me linger in your thought. A presence remembered, a web unwrought. See me, recall me, let me stay. In your mind, come what may."

There’s no way to know if it works—not yet. Flint straightens his tie and gives you a curt nod before walking away, his assistant close behind. You sigh softly, relieved the interaction is over, and start to collect the rest of your scattered papers.

But then, just as you’re stacking the last of the documents, you feel it. A faint prickle at the back of your neck. You glance up and catch Flint looking over his shoulder at you before disappearing down the corridor.

A small smile tugs at the corner of your lips. It’s not confirmation, but it’s a start.

-

Hyunjin leans back in the driver’s seat, fingers drumming impatiently on the steering wheel. The leather creaks beneath him as he shifts, trying to find a more comfortable position in his cramped car. He’s been parked across from Flint’s office building for hours, waiting for something—anything—to happen.

Suspension has its perks, he tells himself, though the bitterness lingers in the back of his mind. No endless meetings, no rushed deadlines. Just this: a stakeout that feels like a low-budget spy movie. His career might be teetering on the edge of collapse, but at least he has time to figure out what Flint’s up to.

Finally, just as dusk begins to settle over the city, Flint emerges from the building. Hyunjin straightens in his seat, his heart giving a small jolt of anticipation. Flint strides confidently to his car, his ever-present assistant trailing close behind. Hyunjin starts his engine, keeping a safe distance as he tails them through the city streets.

After a short drive, they pull into the parking lot of a high-end restaurant. Hyunjin follows, finding a discreet spot to park before slipping inside. He tugs his cap lower over his face and scans the dining area, his eyes locking on Flint almost immediately.

To his surprise, Flint isn’t dining alone. Seated across from him is a woman Hyunjin recognizes instantly—Brownwyn, the secretary to the head of the legal team. Flint’s body language is relaxed, his attention fully on her. Brownwyn leans in slightly, a coy smile playing on her lips as she twirls the stem of her wine glass between her fingers.

Hyunjin’s brow furrows. This doesn’t look like a business dinner.

Sliding into a corner booth with a clear view of their table, Hyunjin orders a coffee he doesn’t intend to drink and settles in for the long haul. The restaurant buzzes with quiet conversation and the occasional clink of cutlery, but Hyunjin’s focus never wavers.

He watches as they share a meal, the interaction between them confirming his suspicions. Flint laughs at something Brownwyn says, leaning closer as the evening progresses. There’s an intimacy in their exchange that has nothing to do with work.

When they finally leave, Hyunjin follows them outside, keeping his distance as they climb into Flint’s car. He trails them through the city once more, his pulse quickening when they pull into the parking lot of a nearby hotel.

Hyunjin parks and enters the lobby just in time to see Flint and Brownwyn at the reception desk. He watches from the shadows as they’re handed a keycard and head toward the elevators, Flint’s hand resting casually on the small of Brownwyn’s back.

That’s all he needs to see. Hyunjin lets out a low breath and turns back toward the exit. He doesn’t need to guess what’s going to happen next, and honestly, he doesn’t want to. What matters is that he now has something tangible to work with—a secret Flint wouldn’t want getting out.

Slipping into his car, Hyunjin pulls out his phone and jots down a few notes. His night hasn’t been wasted after all.

-

Hyunjin stands outside your door, the cool evening air brushing against his skin. He lifts his hand to knock, hesitates, then does it anyway. It’s late, but this couldn’t wait.

When you open the door, he’s taken aback. He can’t quite put his finger on it, but something about you is… different. There’s a subtle glow to your skin, a softness to your features that wasn’t there before. He shakes the thought away as you invite him in, your voice as composed as ever.

Once inside, Hyunjin gets straight to the point. "I followed Flint today," he says, his tone clipped.

He recounts everything—the restaurant, the intimate dinner with Brownwyn, the trip to the hotel. “I think we should spread it around the office,” he concludes. “If people know about his fling with Brownwyn, it could ruin his reputation.”

But you shake your head, crossing your arms. “That’s not enough to bring him down, Hyunjin.”

Frustration bubbles in his chest. “Not enough?” he snaps. “I’m suspended. Do you understand what that means? I might not even have a job to go back to!”

You meet his glare with a steady gaze. “Once Flint is taken down, it’ll be easier for you to get your job back,” you say firmly. Your confidence in your plan only makes him angrier, but he knows you’re right. Flint is the key.

You shift the topic. “Did you get the hair?”

Hyunjin sighs and pulls a crumpled tissue from his pocket, holding it up like it’s a prize. “Yeah. I snuck into the coat room at the restaurant and found a strand on his coat.” He places the tissue on the table, feeling a strange sense of accomplishment despite himself.

Your lips curl into a small smile. “Good. That’s one step closer.”

He watches as you carefully pick up the tissue, your fingers grazing the edge of it with reverence, as if it holds the answer to everything. Then a thought strikes him.

“What about your plan to seduce him?” he asks. “You really think that’s going to work?”

You glance up at him, and for a moment, there’s something in your eyes—something sharp and knowing. “I’ve already started,” you say simply.

Hyunjin scoffs, leaning back against the wall. “I don’t know if you’re the type he’d go for,” he mutters, though the words sound more skeptical than cruel.

“I’ve done it before,” you reply confidently, your voice carrying a weight that makes him uneasy.

Hyunjin narrows his eyes at you, trying to read between the lines. “What’s that supposed to mean?” he asks.

Your gaze flicks to him, lingering for a second too long. There’s something in your expression—a glint of mischief, but also a flicker of sadness. It’s unsettling, like you’re holding onto something he can’t see.

“It means,” you say slowly, “I know how to get what I want.”

The words hang in the air between you, heavy and undeniable. For a moment, Hyunjin feels like you’re not talking about Flint at all.

-

The night feels heavy, the air thick with unspoken urgency as you prepare for the ritual. Hyunjin’s growing anxiety about his suspended career gnaws at you, a constant reminder that you’re running out of time. If Flint doesn’t fall into your trap soon, the plan will crumble, and with it, any chance of saving Hyunjin's job—and perhaps even yourself.

You glance at the small tissue placed carefully beside the almanac. Inside it lies Flint’s hair, the most critical component of the spell. Hyunjin came through, and now, there’s no time to waste.

With steady hands, you gather the rest of the ingredients: rose petals for passion, honey for sweetness, and a drop of your own blood for power and intent. Each item is laid out before you in a precise circle, their arrangement forming the spell’s foundation.

You light the candles one by one, murmuring the incantation under your breath as each flame flickers to life. The room grows warmer, the air thick with the scent of herbs and wax.

Sitting cross-legged before the altar, you pick up the strands of Flint’s hair, weaving them carefully into the rose petals. Closing your eyes, you focus on the image of him—his sharp gaze, his commanding presence. You imagine him looking at you, drawn to you with an uncontrollable desire.

You begin the chant, your voice steady and low at first, then rising in intensity. Each word carries your intent, your need, your determination. The energy in the room shifts, buzzing like static electricity.

"By fire’s light and heart’s desire. Let him be drawn, his soul inspired. Through thought and dream, he seeks for me. Bound by will, so let it be."

As you chant, you feel the power building within you, a heady sensation that sends chills down your spine. Your hands move instinctively, blending the ingredients with precision, each motion an extension of your will.

When the final words of the spell leave your lips, you take a deep breath and release it slowly, feeling the magic settle over you like an invisible veil. You open your eyes and look at the small bundle of ingredients now bound together with red thread. It hums with energy, glowing faintly under the candlelight.

You place the bundle into a small pouch, clutching it tightly in your hands. The ritual is complete, but the true challenge lies ahead—facing Flint and testing the spell’s power.

-

The next morning, you wake up earlier than usual, carefully selecting your outfit and ensuring every detail of your appearance is flawless. If the spell worked, today will be the day Flint notices you, truly notices you.

As you step into the office, a surge of determination courses through you. When you knock on Flint’s office door, your pulse quickens. His voice calls for you to enter, and you step inside, flashing your most charming smile. He barely glances up from his paperwork, his usual cold demeanor intact.

“Sir,” you begin, stepping closer to his desk. “I heard you have a meeting with a client this afternoon. I’d like to take care of the presentation for you.”

His pen pauses mid-stroke, and he looks up at you. For a moment, there’s nothing in his expression—just the same sharp, calculating stare you’ve come to expect. But you press on, your voice warm and persuasive.

“I know it’s last-minute, but I’ve reviewed the files. I’m confident I can handle it, and it’ll give you more time to focus on… other matters.” You let your words linger, tilting your head slightly as if you’re offering more than just a simple favor.

He studies you in silence, his gaze lingering a moment longer than usual. Finally, he exhales through his nose and leans back in his chair.

“Fine,” he relents. “But don’t mess it up. The meeting’s at two. Be ready.”

You nod, trying not to let the victorious smile show too much. “Thank you, sir. I won’t let you down.”

By the time two o’clock rolls around, you’re impeccably prepared. Standing in the elevator beside Flint, you notice his usual air of authority, but there’s something else—something quieter, like curiosity.

As the elevator hums to life, you turn to him with a polite smile. “May I?” you ask, gesturing to his tie, which is slightly askew.

He glances at you, then nods. “Go ahead.”

You step closer, your fingers lightly brushing against the fabric as you adjust the knot. His eyes remain fixed on you, his expression unreadable but intent. You can feel his assistant’s glare burning into you from behind, but you ignore it, focusing on Flint.

“There,” you say softly, straightening the tie and stepping back. “Perfect.”

His gaze lingers on you a moment longer, and you meet it with a confident smile before turning away as the elevator doors open.

In the meeting room, you deliver the presentation with practiced ease, your voice steady and your points concise. You notice, however, that Flint’s eyes remain locked on you the entire time. It’s not the typical critical gaze he gives his employees—it’s something heavier, something that makes your skin prickle with awareness.

You meet his eyes briefly during the presentation, letting a small smile play on your lips before returning to your slides. Each time you glance his way, he’s watching, his expression unreadable but intense.

When the meeting concludes, you gather your papers, feeling a rush of pride and anticipation. As everyone files out, you linger slightly, hoping Flint will say something—anything—to confirm the spell is working.

But he doesn’t. He simply nods at you before walking away, his assistant trailing after him.

You stand there for a moment, the air of victory you’d felt earlier evaporating. Did it work? you wonder, doubt creeping into your mind.

Maybe the spell wasn’t strong enough. Maybe Flint’s will is stronger than you anticipated. Or maybe… just maybe… it’s working more subtly than you realized.

-

Hyunjin paces in front of your door, his frustration bubbling under the surface. He hasn’t felt this restless in a long time—his career hanging by a thread, his life spiraling out of control, and no certainty in sight. He clenches his fists, trying to push back the overwhelming sense of failure creeping in.

Every sound in the hallway makes him turn his head, and when the elevator dings, he freezes. You step out, a look of surprise flashing across your face when you see him.

“Hyunjin?” you ask, your voice soft yet cautious.

He doesn’t answer right away. Instead, the floodgates open. “I’m losing my mind here. Do you know how hard it is for me to just sit and wait? To follow your plan when I don’t even know if it’s working?” His voice rises slightly, his frustration bleeding through. “My career is on the line, my life is on the line, and all I’m doing is running around in circles for this!”

You stand there, calm and collected, letting him vent without interrupting. When he finally pauses to take a breath, you step closer, your tone steady but firm.

“It is working, Hyunjin. You just have to trust me.”

He scoffs, running a hand through his hair. “Trust you? I don’t even know if—”

“Have you eaten?” you cut him off, your eyes narrowing slightly as you take in his pale complexion.

“What?” he asks, caught off guard.

“You look like you haven’t eaten all day. Come in, I’ll make you something,” you say, unlocking your door and holding it open for him.

Hyunjin hesitates, but the gnawing hunger in his stomach betrays him. He follows you inside, sinking into a chair at your kitchen table while you move around with ease, preparing a simple meal.

The smell of food fills the small space, and despite himself, Hyunjin feels his tension begin to ease. When you set the plate in front of him, he doesn’t even bother to argue, picking up his fork and digging in.

As he eats, a strange sensation washes over him. He glances around the room, the soft lighting, the faint scent of whatever incense you burned earlier, and the way you’re moving about the kitchen—it all feels familiar.

Too familiar.

He pauses mid-bite, the fork hovering in the air as a wave of déjà vu hits him like a freight train. He’s been here before. He’s sat at this table before, eating a meal you prepared, sharing this moment.

But that’s impossible.

“Have we…” he begins, but the words catch in his throat. He shakes his head, trying to push the strange feeling aside.

Before he can finish his thought, your phone buzzes on the counter. You glance at the screen, and your demeanor shifts instantly. You grab the phone, answering it with a tone that’s light and professional.

“Hello?” you say, your back to him as you pace slightly.

Hyunjin can’t help but strain to hear the conversation, catching snippets of your words. “Yes… tomorrow night… drinks? Of course… I’ll be there.”

When you hang up, you turn back to him with a spark of triumph in your eyes. “That was Flint.”

Hyunjin sits up straighter, his curiosity piqued.

“He just invited me for drinks tomorrow night,” you casually say as you pick up your fork to continue eating.

In that moment, Hyunjin instantly regrets that he didn't trust you in the first place.

-

The almanac doesn’t leave room for second-guessing, so you stick to its advice, dressing in the suggested color—a deep, alluring shade that accentuates your figure. You take extra care with your appearance tonight, ensuring every detail is perfect. Flint has to notice you; he has to want you.

The pub Flint mentioned in his call is nothing extravagant, but its cozy, vintage atmosphere is charming in its own way. You arrive purposefully late, just enough to seem like you’re not desperate for his attention.

As you step inside, the warm lighting and low hum of conversation wrap around you. You spot Flint almost immediately, seated in a booth near the back. His ever-present assistant slash bodyguard is by his side, like a shadow that never strays too far.

But tonight, Flint looks different—dressed casually, the stiffness of his usual office attire replaced with a relaxed charm. He seems more his age, and it strikes you that he’s only three years older than you.

When he sees you, a smile spreads across his face, and as you approach, his eyes trail over you. The attention is unmistakable, almost palpable.

“You look stunning,” he says, his voice smoother than you’ve ever heard it.

“Thank you,” you reply with a small smile, tilting your head just enough to let your earrings catch the light.

He leads you to the booth, and to your relief, he gestures for his assistant to leave. As the assistant fades into the background, you feel a slight wave of freedom—it’s just you and Flint now.

“Thanks for coming,” he says, motioning for you to sit.

“Of course,” you reply, sliding into the seat across from him.

He leans back slightly, studying you with an intensity that feels almost disarming. “I wanted to thank you for the presentation yesterday. You did a great job.”

You smile, dipping your head modestly. “I’m glad you think so.”

“I have to admit,” he continues, a playful edge in his tone, “I didn’t think you had it in you. You’ve surprised me.”

You raise an eyebrow, playing along. “Oh? And how exactly did you see me before?”

His smile turns flirtatious, his eyes gleaming. “I thought you were uptight, always buried in your work. I didn’t know there was this… fun side to you.”

You feign a pout. “That’s disappointing. I’m sad you never paid enough attention to me to notice before.”

He chuckles, the sound low and rich. The conversation flows easily, growing more intimate with each passing minute. His charm is undeniable, but you keep reminding yourself this isn’t about you; it’s about the plan.

And then, he leans in.

His face is close enough that you can feel the warmth of his breath, his gaze locked onto yours. Your heart races, not with excitement but with the weight of the moment. You promised yourself you’d do anything to make this work, anything to bring Flint to his knees.

But as his lips move closer, something in you snaps.

At the very last second, you dodge, turning your head slightly so his kiss lands awkwardly near your cheek. The air shifts instantly.

When you look back at him, the expression on his face tells you everything. The interest, the desire—it vanishes like a flame snuffed out.

Flint pulls back, his demeanor cool and detached. “I just remembered,” he says, his tone suddenly businesslike, “I have something I need to take care of.”

You nod, even though you know the truth. His excuse is nothing more than a polite dismissal.

As he stands and adjusts his jacket, you force a smile, pretending you don’t see the disappointment in his eyes—or feel the failure burning in your chest.

When he leaves the pub, you remain seated, staring down at the untouched drink in front of you. Your plan has failed, and the weight of that realization sits heavy in the pit of your stomach.

-

Hyunjin hesitates as he steps off the elevator and walks toward your door. He isn’t sure if you’re back yet, but the uncertainty doesn’t stop him. He’s been restless since earlier tonight, an uneasy feeling gnawing at him.

When the door opens, his breath catches for a moment. You’re standing there in a bathrobe, your hair damp and clinging to your neck. Your expression is unreadable, but it’s enough to tell him that things didn’t go as planned.

You don’t say a word, just push the door open wider, allowing him to step inside. Hyunjin walks in slowly, his eyes flickering to you as you close the door behind him.

The silence feels heavy, but he doesn’t press you. He moves to the dining table and takes a seat, his gaze following you as you head to the kitchen. The way you saunter to the counter, grab a glass, and fill it with water is oddly mesmerizing. There’s something different about you tonight—no sharp quips, no smug assurance.

Finally, he breaks the quiet. “How did it go?”

You pause mid-sip, the rim of the glass pressed against your lips. Lowering it slowly, you let out a bitter laugh and lean against the counter. “It went fine... until it didn’t.”

Hyunjin frowns. “What do you mean?”

You recount everything—the pub, the conversation, how everything seemed to be going perfectly until you dodged Flint’s kiss. Your voice remains steady, but Hyunjin can hear the frustration laced in your words, the self-reproach hiding beneath them.

He exhales, leaning back in his chair. “It’s okay. You don’t have to do all that. Really.”

But you shake your head, your eyes narrowing. “No, it’s not okay. I wasn’t enough. I should have done my part right. If I had just—”

“You don’t have to push yourself this far,” Hyunjin interrupts gently, his voice soft but firm. “You’ve already done so much.”

You glare at him, the fire in your gaze a stark contrast to the exhaustion etched into your features. “You don’t get it,” you snap, but your tone lacks venom. It’s frustration—at yourself more than anything.

Hyunjin stares at you, trying to find the right words. But as he watches you stand there, gripping the edge of the counter as if trying to hold yourself together, something shifts in him.

This whole time, he’s been so focused on his own frustrations, his own doubts about the plan, that he never stopped to consider how much you’ve been sacrificing, how much you’ve been giving to make this work.

For the first time, Hyunjin sees the weight you’re carrying—and how deeply determined you are to see this plan through.

“I see it now,” he says softly, almost to himself.

You glance at him, your expression wary. “See what?”

He shakes his head, offering you a faint smile instead of answering. For a moment, the two of you just look at each other, the silence heavy with unspoken words. Then you sigh, push off the counter, and make your way to the table.

“I’m not giving up,” you say, sitting across from him. There’s a quiet determination in your voice, one that Hyunjin can’t help but admire.

“I know,” he replies, his voice steady. “And I’ll make sure we see this through.”

-

The plan you created with Hyunjin echoes in your mind as you park your car in the office lot, waiting for most people to leave. You glance at Flint’s car still parked a few spaces away, and your heart races. This is your moment to get his interest back.

Taking a deep breath, you pop the front hood of your car and adopt a distressed expression. You lean over the engine, pretending to inspect it, though you have no idea what you’re looking for. Pulling out your phone, you stage a fake call for help, your voice carrying just enough to be heard if someone were near.

Time stretches painfully slow until you finally spot Flint walking out of the building with his ever-present assistant trailing behind. Your pulse quickens, but you keep your expression pitiful, glancing down at the engine in feigned confusion.

Flint walks straight toward his car without sparing you a glance, his assistant opening the car door for him. Your chest tightens as doubt creeps in—this might not work.

Swallowing your hesitation, you take the next step. You approach his assistant with timid steps, clutching your hands together nervously.

“Excuse me,” you say, your voice soft but loud enough to stop him. “Can you help me check what's wrong with my car? Please?”

The assistant glances at Flint, who gives him a slight nod. Without hesitation, the assistant walks over to your car and leans over to inspect the engine.

“Looks like your car’s out of commission,” he declares after a quick glance. “You’ll need a mechanic.”

You let your shoulders sag in an exaggerated display of disappointment, biting your lip as you feign helplessness. Flint watches from the comfort of his car, his expression unreadable. It isn’t until his assistant walks back and murmurs something to him that he rolls down the window slightly.

“It’s late,” Flint says, his tone casual but laced with authority. “I’ll have my driver drop you off. Get in.”

You flash him a grateful smile, walking to the car and slipping into the seat next to him. The door shuts with a solid thud, and you feel his presence keenly, even in the spacious interior.

“Thank you,” you murmur, adjusting your posture to seem both grateful and charming.

As the car begins to move, you glance at him shyly. “I really appreciate this. And, by the way, I had fun the other night. It’s a shame it ended so soon.”

Flint turns to you, his eyes narrowing slightly, as if gauging your sincerity. “Is that so?”

You nod, letting a coy smile grace your lips. “I guess I was just nervous. You caught me off guard.”

The ride feels both endless and fleeting. By the time the car pulls up in front of your apartment building, you steel yourself for the final step. The driver opens your door, but you make no move to leave just yet.

Turning to Flint, you lean in closer, your heart pounding in your chest. His eyes widen slightly, his body going rigid as you press your lips to his in a soft but deliberate kiss.

When you pull away, his expression is a mix of surprise and intrigue. You smile at him, your voice sultry. “I should’ve done that sooner.”

Before stepping out, you cast him one last glance, your lips curling into a playful smile. “See you tomorrow at the office, Mr. Hargrave.”

With that, you step out of the car, feeling his gaze linger on you as you walk toward your building.

The plan is officially back on track when you catch the sight of Flint’s sleek car parked right out front of your apartment building the next morning. Your pulse quickens with a mixture of satisfaction and anticipation.

As the car door opens, Flint steps out, looking as polished and composed as always. His lips curve into a smile, and for a moment, you revel in the small victory. The spell is working.

“Good morning,” he greets warmly, gesturing toward the open car door. “Shall we?”

Feigning surprise, you raise an eyebrow and offer him a playful smile. “What’s this? You went out of your way to pick me up?”

He chuckles softly, brushing it off. “Your car broke down, didn’t it? I thought it’d be a shame if you were late to work because of that.”

You tilt your head slightly, studying him with a curious gaze. He looks so nonchalant, but you know better. Beneath his composed exterior, the spell is undoubtedly weaving its magic.

“Well,” you say, stepping closer to him, “thank you for the thoughtful gesture.”

Your smile deepens as you slip into the car, catching the faint glimmer of satisfaction in his eyes before he closes the door behind you.

As the car glides through the streets toward the office, you can’t help but feel a surge of confidence. The plan is back in motion, and Flint is right where you want him—under your spell.

-

Hyunjin leans against the wall of the dimly lit hallway, arms crossed tightly as he watches Flint’s car pull up outside your building.

It’s become a routine he hates—Flint stepping out, opening the car door for you like some picture-perfect gentleman, and the two of you exchanging pleasantries that seem far too intimate.

Tonight is no different. Hyunjin’s jaw tightens as Flint helps you out of the car, his hand lingering on your arm longer than it should. You and him exchange a few words, Flint’s deep voice carrying softly in the still evening air.

Then, as if to push Hyunjin further into frustration, Flint tucks a strand of your hair behind your ear, leaning in to press a kiss on your lips before stepping back.

Hyunjin’s fists clench at his sides. If he didn’t know this was all part of a carefully crafted plan, he might have believed the two of you were genuinely in love. But the knot in his chest isn’t just frustration—it’s jealousy. Why?

The question eats at him as he waits for Flint’s car to drive away. When it finally disappears down the street, Hyunjin pushes himself off the wall and heads up to your apartment. He knocks sharply, his impatience barely contained.

You open the door almost immediately, as though you were expecting him. Your expression is calm, maybe even a little amused.

“Are you okay?” Hyunjin asks, his eyes scanning your face for any sign that something is wrong. “Did Flint… do anything to you?”

Your lips curl into a small, knowing smile. “I’m fine,” you say coyly, stepping aside to let him in. “You don’t need to worry so much.”

Hyunjin follows you into the living room, his frustration bubbling just beneath the surface. “We should speed this up,” he says, his voice sharp with urgency. “Let’s execute the plan quickly so you don’t have to keep being around him.”

You turn to face him, raising an eyebrow. “I don’t enjoy his company, either,” you say with a shrug. “But the best time for the ritual is Friday. Until then, I have to keep the act going.”

Hyunjin stares at the floor, jaw tight. “I just don’t like seeing you with him,” he admits, the words spilling out before he can stop them. “He’s… he’s dangerous. I’m afraid he’s going to do something to you.”

You step closer, your expression softening. “Hyunjin, I can handle Flint,” you say gently, your voice steady.

But your reassurance doesn’t ease the tightness in his chest. Hyunjin looks up to meet your gaze, his thoughts a chaotic swirl. Is it really Flint’s cruelty that bothers him, or is it something else entirely?

-

In the office, you step into Flint’s room, proposal folder in hand. He looks up from his desk as you enter, offering a faint smile as you approach. You present your proposal with a professional demeanor, walking him through every point with precision. Once you’re done, you pause, your hands resting lightly on the edge of his desk.

“Mr. Hargrave,” you say, your tone shifting slightly, “may I be unprofessional for just a moment?”

Flint raises an eyebrow but leans back in his chair, amusement dancing in his eyes. “Go ahead,” he says with a small smile.

You smile back, your gaze steady. “You once promised me dinner,” you begin, tilting your head slightly. “I was wondering… when you plan on making good on that promise.”

Flint chuckles, his amusement deepening. “If you’d like,” he says smoothly, “we can have that dinner tonight.”

Feigning a thoughtful expression, you shake your head. “I appreciate the offer, but I have a better idea,” you say, leaning in just slightly. “How about I cook you dinner? At my place.”

Flint’s eyebrows lift, curiosity sparking in his expression. “Your place?” he repeats, clearly intrigued.

You nod, adding with a sly smile, “A dinner at my place is far more intimate. Besides…” You glance over your shoulder, as if expecting to see his ever-present assistant lurking nearby. “I hate seeing your assistant hovering around all the time.”

Flint lets out a low laugh, nodding his agreement. “Fair enough,” he says. “Dinner at your place it is.”

Satisfied, you excuse yourself, turning to leave. But before you can take more than a step, Flint stands and closes the distance between you.

“Since we’re still being ‘unprofessional,’” he says, his voice low, before his hands find your waist and he pulls you closer. His lips meet yours in a firm, calculated kiss, one that you have no choice but to return.

As you kiss him, your eyes flick to the mirror on the wall. Your reflection stares back at you, your lips curved in a small, knowing smile. Mischief glints in your eyes, a silent acknowledgment of the game you’re playing and the plan that’s slowly coming together.

-

Hyunjin knocks on your door, shifting uncomfortably as he waits. When you open it, his breath hitches slightly. You’re dressed in a stunning silk dress, its fabric clinging perfectly to your frame, and your hair is styled in a neat bun that leaves your neck and shoulders elegantly bare.

For a moment, he forgets why he’s here, caught off guard by how effortlessly beautiful you look.

“Come in,” you say with a faint smile, stepping aside to let him in.

He follows you inside, watching as you glide toward the kitchen, your heels clicking softly on the floor. The table is already set, and Hyunjin can see the attention to detail you’ve put into everything.

“Did you get it?” you ask, your tone calm but firm as you begin arranging utensils.

Hyunjin quickly retrieves a small bottle from his pocket—the sleeping pills you asked for—and hands it to you. You take it without hesitation and tuck it away in one of the kitchen drawers.

“Anything else you need?” Hyunjin offers, his voice tinged with concern.

You glance at him over your shoulder and shake your head. “I’ve got it under control. You should go now, before Flint gets here.”

Hyunjin hesitates, standing awkwardly by the counter. “Are you sure? I can stay a little longer—”

You cut him off with a reassuring smile. “I’ll be fine. Don’t worry. Just be ready for my call when it’s time.”

He nods, but his feet remain rooted to the floor. He can’t shake the unease bubbling in his chest. Part of him worries about what Flint might try tonight, and another part—one he doesn’t want to acknowledge—resents the entire situation.

Finally, he sighs and heads for the door, turning back one last time. “Be careful,” he murmurs, his voice quieter than he intended.

You meet his gaze, your expression steady. “I will.”

Reluctantly, Hyunjin leaves, the knot in his stomach tightening with every step away from your apartment.

-

After dinner, Flint takes a leisurely stroll around your small apartment, his curious eyes wandering over the space. You remain in the kitchen, slicing fruit and arranging cheese to go with the wine. Thankfully, you had the foresight to stow away your witchcraft tools earlier, hiding them in the closet where they’re safely out of sight.

“It's a small apartment so there's not much to see,” you tell him with a small smile.

“I like it. It's cozy.” Flint responds from across the room.

As you glance over your shoulder, making sure Flint’s attention is elsewhere, you slip two sleeping pills into his glass of wine. Your heart races slightly as the pills dissolve into the deep red liquid, but you maintain your composure. With everything ready, you carry the tray to the living room and place it on the table.

Flint returns to the sofa, smiling as he settles beside you. “You’ve really gone all out,” he says, raising his glass in a toast.

You raise your glass as well, playfully saying. “Anything to impress you.”

You clink glasses with him, forcing a smile, and take a small sip of your own wine while keeping a careful eye on him. As he drinks, you ensure his glass never stays full for long, subtly encouraging him to refill it.

After a while, Flint pulls you closer, draping an arm around you as he begins kissing your neck. You suppress the instinct to recoil and instead lean into his embrace, pretending to enjoy the intimacy. You kiss him back, but your mind is elsewhere, silently urging the sleeping pills to take effect.

When his hands begin to wander, you gently push away, offering an apologetic smile. “I need to use the bathroom,” you say softly, slipping out of his grasp.

He nods, clearly disappointed so you place a quick peck on his lips as consolation. Closing the bathroom door behind you, you take a deep breath, counting the seconds as you hope the pills are working.

After a few minutes, you return to find Flint still sitting on the sofa, though his eyelids are heavy, and his movements sluggish. He looks up at you with a faint smile, oblivious to what’s happening.

“You look tired,” you say, sitting beside him and offering your arms. “Here, rest for a bit.”

Flint leans into you, his head resting against your chest as his breathing grows slow and steady. A moment later, he’s fully asleep.

Once you’re certain he’s out cold, you carefully ease him off you and grab your phone. Dialing Hyunjin’s number, you speak in a hushed tone. “It’s time.”

-

Hyunjin doesn’t bother knocking; you’re already there, opening the door as if you’ve been waiting for him. The moment he steps inside, his eyes land on Flint, sprawled out on the sofa and deeply asleep thanks to the potent sleeping pills Hyunjin sourced from his pharmacist friend. He notices you tidying up the remnants of your staged evening, clearing the glasses and dishes from the coffee table.

“What do you need me to do?” Hyunjin asks without preamble, his voice low.

You motion toward the furniture. “Help me move everything.”

Together, the two of you shift the furniture to the edges of the room. Once the space is cleared, you roll up the carpet, revealing a carefully drawn rune beneath it, etched onto the floor in a pattern that Hyunjin can only describe as intricate and otherworldly.

“Lift him,” you say, gesturing to Flint.

Hyunjin doesn’t hesitate, though he grits his teeth as he hauls Flint’s limp body off the couch and carries him to the center of the rune. Once Flint is positioned as instructed, you disappear into the bedroom to retrieve more items.

Hyunjin’s gaze lingers on the rune as he waits, a sense of unease creeping into his chest. When you return, you’re carrying an array of tools and objects he can’t even begin to identify. Candles, vials, a small chalice, and—most unsettling—a dagger.

“Set the candles around the circle and light them,” you instruct, kneeling on the floor as you arrange your witchcraft materials.

Hyunjin obeys, carefully placing the candles at specific points around the rune and lighting them one by one. The flickering flames cast dancing shadows across the room, the atmosphere growing heavier with each passing second. He finishes and steps back, watching as you lay your tools in front of you and take a deep, steadying breath.

“Anything else?” he asks, though the tension in his voice is clear.

You glance up at him briefly. “Step back. I need to start.”

Hyunjin retreats to the edge of the room, leaning against the wall as he watches you. He’s never been one to believe in witchcraft or rituals, but something about the way you move, the focus in your eyes, makes him hesitate.

You begin chanting, your voice low and rhythmic, as you add ingredients one by one to the chalice. Hyunjin watches as you pour liquids, crush herbs, and sprinkle powders, each action deliberate and precise. Then, you take the dagger, holding it with a calm determination that makes his stomach churn.

Without hesitation, you press the blade against your palm, cutting deep enough for blood to bead and then flow freely. You ball your hand into a fist, letting the blood drip steadily into the chalice. Hyunjin stiffens, torn between stepping in and letting you continue.

As the blood mingles with the other ingredients, you set the chalice on the floor and light a small flame beneath it. The mixture begins to burn, smoke curling upward as you chant louder, your voice rising with each repetition.

Hyunjin’s unease deepens as the room seems to shift around him. The air grows thick, pressing against his skin, and the flickering candlelight feels almost alive. He tries to convince himself it’s just his imagination, but he can’t shake the feeling that something is happening.

Hyunjin watches in tense silence as you place the chalice at the heart of the rune, the contents still smoldering. You close your eyes, steadying your breathing as you stretch your arms outward, the dagger still held tightly in one hand. Then, in a language that sounds ancient and otherworldly, you begin the incantation:

"To the peace of death, I call you forth. Let your life fuel my flame. Through natural fate, this path unfolds. From blood and soul, my magic returns to me."

Your voice resonates, starting low but growing with intensity. Each word seems to ripple through the room, vibrating in Hyunjin’s chest like an unearthly hum. The candles, though extinguished, seem to glow faintly, the runes on the floor pulsing with a strange energy.

You move to the chalice, gripping it tightly, and continue the spell, your voice now echoing as if the words are being spoken in tandem by someone—or something—else:

"From the shadows of this world, I draw the light. Flint Hargrave, I take your life. Nature shall not see this as betrayal. For your soul becomes my tool."

Hyunjin can’t look away as you pour the remaining contents of the chalice over the center of the rune, the liquid sizzling against the air as if it were molten. A deep rumble vibrates beneath his feet, subtle at first but growing stronger.

Then, gripping the dagger tightly, you press it against your palm once more, fresh blood dripping onto the circle as you chant the final, most powerful lines:

"My blood, your blood. I give life to reclaim my magic. Let my soul be eternal. And let your death appear as nature’s will."

The air explodes with energy as the rune flares to life, a bright, unnatural light illuminating the room. Flint’s body jerks as if an invisible force is gripping him. His chest rises once in a shallow breath before his entire body relaxes, utterly still.

Hyunjin shivers as the room goes deathly quiet again, save for the soft crackle of dying embers from the chalice. The energy in the air feels different now—charged and alive, yet cold and foreboding.

You rise slowly, wiping the blood from your hand onto a cloth as you look over your shoulder at Hyunjin. For a moment, he sees something in your eyes—a glint of power, or perhaps something darker.

“It’s done,” you announce.

Hyunjin stares at you, uncertain of what he just witnessed but knowing, without a doubt, that something far more significant than a simple ritual has taken place.

-

You and Hyunjin are moving the furniture back into place, the room slowly returning to normal. Hyunjin keeps glancing at your hand, his brows furrowed as his eyes linger on the blood-soaked cloth wrapped around it.

“Just a small cut,” you assure him, catching his concern. “I’ll handle it later.”

Hyunjin doesn’t look convinced but says nothing as you direct him to help move Flint to your bed. He pauses, clearly uncomfortable. “Why not just leave him on the sofa? He’s out cold. He won’t even notice.”

“It’s better if it looks like we slept together,” you reply, your tone even and practical. “It makes the story more believable.”

Hyunjin mutters something under his breath but follows your instructions, carefully lifting Flint’s limp form and carrying him to your bed. As he starts undoing Flint’s tie and unbuttoning his shirt, he glances up—and freezes.

Across the room, you're changing out of your dress, slipping into a silk nightgown that clings to your form. The dim light casts shadows that highlight every curve, and for a moment, Hyunjin finds himself staring at the bare expanse of your back. His throat tightens as unease washes over him.

He quickly looks away, focusing on pulling the blankets over Flint’s body.

“You okay over there?” you ask, your tone light but teasing as you tie the straps of your gown.

Hyunjin clears his throat, his voice coming out a bit strained. “Yeah, just... making sure everything looks convincing.”

Once Flint is settled, Hyunjin hesitates by the doorway, his fingers twitching at his sides. “Are you sure there’s nothing else I can do?”

“Nothing left but to wait,” you say, brushing a hand over your hair as you settle into the chair by your vanity.

Hyunjin nods slowly, his jaw tightening. His eyes flicker to the cloth on your hand again, and his uneasiness spills into his words. “Just uh... take care of that cut, okay?”

“I will,” you reply softly, offering him a faint smile.

Reluctantly, Hyunjin turns to leave, his footsteps heavy as he makes his way out of your apartment. As the door closes behind him, a strange silence settles over the room, leaving you alone with Flint—and the heavy weight of what you’ve just done.

-

The sleeping pills must be far stronger than you anticipated because Flint sleeps through the entire morning. His phone vibrates on the nightstand for what feels like the hundredth time, the name "Assistant" flashing on the screen. You sigh, brushing your hair out of your face as you glance at the time.

Climbing onto the bed, you carefully settle yourself next to him, your movements deliberate and gentle. Leaning over, you softly shake his shoulder. "Flint," you say, your voice light and melodic. "Time to wake up."

He stirs, letting out a small groan before squinting up at you. His eyes struggle to focus, confusion flickering across his face.

You smile warmly, tilting your head. "Good morning, sleepyhead," you sweetly greet, brushing imaginary lint off his shoulder. "Your phone’s been ringing non-stop. I think your assistant’s starting to worry you’ve dropped off the face of the earth. If you don’t pick up, they’ll probably assume you’re dead."

That earns a groggy chuckle from him as he sits up, rubbing his face. He grabs his phone and answers it briefly, mumbling reassurances before hanging up.

When his gaze finally returns to you, his brows knit together slightly. “What... happened?” he asks, his voice rough with sleep.

You let out a light laugh, reaching out to straighten the rumpled sheets around him. “Oh, come on!” you tease, feigning a hint of hurt. “I can’t believe you don’t remember. We had such a good time last night.”

He blinks, his confusion shifting to realization as he looks down, noticing for the first time that he’s naked under the blanket. His eyes widen slightly, and a slow smirk creeps onto his lips.

You giggle, playfully running a hand through your hair. “Don’t worry, I’ll let you take your time piecing it together,” you say, slipping off the bed with a practiced grace.

“For now, how about breakfast?”

As you walk toward the kitchen, a quiet, satisfied smile graces your lips. Inside, you’re celebrating your triumph. Everything is moving perfectly according to plan.

-

Three days have passed, and Hyunjin finds himself pacing his apartment, his mind restless. The uncertainty gnaws at him, a constant hum of tension in the back of his thoughts. He’s not sure how long the spell takes to work—or if it’s even working at all.

His mind circles back to you, as it often does these days. He worries about you being stuck in this fabricated relationship with Flint if things don’t go as planned. Worse, he can’t shake the thought that you might have to keep playing along indefinitely, enduring Flint’s company far longer than you should.

Hyunjin sighs, running a hand through his hair. It’s not just his own career hanging by a thread—it’s yours too. The weight of it all feels suffocating.

The sudden ringing of his phone snaps him out of his thoughts. Glancing at the screen, he sees the office number flashing and hesitates for a moment before answering.

“Yes?” he says, trying to keep his voice steady.

“We need you to come in tomorrow for further examination,” the voice on the other end informs him. “Please be on time.”

Hyunjin’s grip tightens around his phone. “I’ll be there,” he says, keeping his response curt before hanging up.

He stares at the phone in his hand, unsure of how to feel. Does this mean things are moving forward, or is it just another step in prolonging his uncertainty? He can’t tell if this is a good sign or a bad one. What he does know is that his future remains unclear—and yours feels equally bleak.

On the way to your apartment, as he waits for the traffic light to turn, Hyunjin catches sight of Flint’s car pulling up in front of your building. He sees you step out, Flint following to open the door for you. Flint leans down, pressing a kiss to your lips before returning to his car.

From where Hyunjin stands, he can’t see your expression. He can’t tell how much effort it’s taking you to keep up the charade. Hyunjin clenches his fists and forces himself to calm down as he crosses the street.

When you open the door for him, you’re as composed as ever. You step aside, letting him in like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

But as he looks at you, something feels off. There’s no spark of confidence in your eyes, none of the determination you’d had when you first presented this plan.

“Do you think it’s working?” he asks cautiously.

You hesitate. Your gaze flickers to the floor, then back to him, and he feels the weight of your silence before you even speak.

“There’s a chance it’s not working,” you admit quietly. “I’ve… lost my magic.”

Hyunjin blinks, the words taking a moment to sink in. “What do you mean you’ve lost it?”

You press your lips together, avoiding his gaze. “I did something. Something that cost me my power.”

Hyunjin’s brows knit together, his unease mounting. “And you’re only telling me this now?” His voice is steady, but there’s an edge to it.

You look at him, guilt etched into your features. “I didn’t know how to tell you. I—” You pause, then force the words out. “I cast a spell on you, Hyunjin.”

The room feels colder all of a sudden, and Hyunjin steps back, staring at you. “What?”

“I used my magic on you,” you say, voice trembling. “And I gave up my powers in exchange for being able to revoke it.”

Hyunjin stands there, frozen, trying to process what you’ve just told him. His mind flashes through your time together, questioning every moment, every interaction. He opens his mouth to speak, but no words come out. The betrayal, the shock, the confusion—it’s all too much.

Finally, he looks at you again, his expression unreadable. “You… cast a spell on me?” His voice is quiet, strained.

You nod, guilt heavy in your eyes. "I didn’t know it would lead to this."

Hyunjin turns away, running a hand through his hair. He doesn’t leave, but he doesn’t speak either, his mind spinning as he tries to come to terms with what you’ve just confessed.

-

When Hyunjin shows up at your door, his expression says everything before he even speaks. He steps inside, and you prepare yourself. After the initial pleasantries, he asks the question you knew was coming.

“You… cast a spell on me?”

The moment hangs heavy between you, and you realize there’s no way out of this. You have to tell him everything. So you do. You confess to casting a love spell on him, to manipulating his feelings. You explain how you sacrificed your magic to undo the damage, thinking it was the only way to make things right.

As you speak, you watch the light in his eyes dim, the distance between you growing with each word. You can feel him slipping away from you all over again, and it makes your heart ache in a way you hadn’t thought possible.

When you finish, silence fills the space between you. Hyunjin doesn’t say a word, his expression unreadable. You don’t know if he’s upset, angry, or simply in shock.

You force yourself to look at him, your voice trembling as you speak. “I’ll understand if you want nothing to do with me. I promise I’ll stay away from you.”

He doesn’t respond, his silence louder than any words he could have said. Finally, he turns toward the door, and you realize this might be the end. The final goodbye.

“Wait,” you say, your voice cracking.

Hyunjin pauses, his hand on the doorknob, but he doesn’t turn to face you. You rush to your bedroom, grabbing something from a small box tucked away in the corner. When you return, you hold out a talisman.

“I know you’re being called to the office tomorrow,” you say, your voice soft. “Please, take this.”

He takes it from you without a word, his fingers brushing yours for the briefest moment before he steps out of your apartment.

As the door clicks shut, you stare at the empty space where he stood, the sound of your whispered “Goodbye” barely audible even to yourself.

-

Hyunjin’s head feels like a chaotic storm, each thought crashing into the next, leaving him unable to focus. The talisman you gave him is tucked into his pocket, but he hasn’t thought much about it since leaving your apartment. Right now, none of it seems to matter. Not the examination, not his job, not even the mess he’s left behind with you.

As he sits in the cold, sterile interrogation room, he stares blankly at the table, his mind drifting. He’s been waiting here for nearly an hour now, and the oppressive silence only amplifies the noise in his head.

Maybe I should just resign, he thinks bitterly. Spare them the trouble. What’s the point of dragging this out?

He starts tapping his fingers on the table impatiently, muttering under his breath. “What’s taking so long? Are they trying to torture me or what?”

The door finally creaks open, and a staff member steps in. Hyunjin straightens up, expecting the examination to finally begin.

“Sorry for the delay,” the man says, his tone formal. “I'm afraid we need to reschedule the examination.”

Hyunjin’s eyebrows shoot up. “Reschedule? What? Why?”

The man hesitates, looking uncomfortable. “News just broke out... CEO Flint has passed away.”

Hyunjin’s fingers abruptly stops tapping the table and he freezes on his seat. “What?”

“It’s all over the office,” the man continues. “Apparently, it was a sudden heart attack.”

Hyunjin’s mind blanks for a moment. Flint is dead. The words echo in his head, feeling surreal.

“A sudden heart attack,” he repeats slowly, almost as if testing how it sounds.

“Yes. I’m sure more information will come out soon, but for now, the office is in chaos.”

The man leaves the room, but Hyunjin barely notices. His hands rest on the table, fingers tightening into fists as the weight of the situation sinks in.

The spell worked.

His heart feels heavy, a mixture of relief, shock, and guilt flooding his system. Hyunjin isn’t sure what to feel. Flint is gone, and the dark cloud looming over his and your lives has lifted, but at what cost?

-

It’s been a week since the news about Flint’s sudden death, and Hyunjin’s been reinstated with a clean slate, or at least that’s how it seems. No conclusive evidence, no real suspicion, and here he is, back in his seat, his career still intact.

He should be relieved, he knows that. He should be celebrating that the spell worked, that Flint is gone, and he’s free from the twisted situation that had him tangled up in it all. But instead, there’s this hollow feeling gnawing at him, and it's impossible to ignore.

With a sigh, Hyunjin pulls the talisman from his pocket. The small object feels heavier in his hand now, its meaning no longer as simple as a mere piece of luck. This was supposed to be his victory—his triumph. The key to his freedom. And yet, all he feels is sadness.

His fingers trace over the edges of the charm, memories of the nights spent with you flooding back. The time he spent with you felt like an illusion now, a dream that’s shattered. He’s angry, of course, at the deceit. You cast a spell on him, used magic to manipulate him without his knowledge. He didn’t even have a chance to choose. Betrayed, he feels the sting of that truth, raw and cutting.

But underneath that anger is something else, something he can’t shake. A deep sense of loss. He can’t understand it. Why does he feel this way?

"I got what I wanted," he murmurs to himself, his voice tinged with bitterness. "So why does it feel like I’ve lost everything?"

The bustling noise of the office around him fades into the background as his thoughts consume him. He wants to hate you for what you did. He wants to walk away and leave everything behind. But he can’t.

Because no matter how hard he tries, a part of him still cares for you. And that part of him can’t stop wondering if he made a mistake when he walked out of your apartment that night.

-

You take a deep breath as you gather the remnants of Flint's presence in your apartment—the items he touched, the things tainted by his energy. One by one, you place them in a bag, careful not to let your emotions creep back in. It’s not just about removing his physical traces; it’s about banishing the negativity that still lingers, suffocating your space.

With the bag clutched tightly, you step outside to a safe spot and set it ablaze. The flames crackle and hiss, consuming every last fragment. You whisper under your breath, a spell to release the darkness.

"By light of stars and flame of sun. Cleanse this space; let harm be none. All shadows fade, all ill be gone. This is my will; let peace be won. So mote it be."

The fire dies down, leaving behind nothing but ash. You exhale deeply, feeling a small weight lift from your chest.

Back in your apartment, the air still feels heavy, clinging to your skin like a second layer. You draw yourself a bath, infusing the water with a few drops of essential oils—lavender for peace, eucalyptus for clarity. As the warm water embraces you, you feel a subtle shift in your energy.

Once submerged, you whisper another spell, letting your voice carry into the water:

"From root to crown, from heart to soul. Let purity and light take hold. All dark removed, all wounds made whole. By power divine, restore control. So mote it be."

The words resonate through you, calming your mind. You close your eyes and let the spell do its work, envisioning the negativity dissolving into the water. You imagine it swirling away, leaving you lighter, clearer.

When the bath is done, you step out feeling renewed, wrapping yourself in a soft towel. The final step is to cleanse the air around you. You light a white candle and carry it through each room, whispering the same purification spell for the space. As the soft glow illuminates the corners, you feel the lingering shadows retreat.

Finally, you sit in the center of your living room, lighting a bundle of sage. The smoke curls into the air, spiraling upwards, carrying away the last traces of darkness. You speak firmly:

"This space is mine; it is sacred and free. No harm may enter; no ill may be. Only light and love dwell here with me. So mote it be."

The silence that follows feels comforting, like an embrace. You smile faintly, knowing you’ve taken the first step to reclaim your life and your peace. But before you can fully settle, there’s a knock at the door.

Hyunjin.

You debate ignoring it, letting the past stay behind that door, but the longing within you wins. Wrapping yourself in your robe, you pad to the door and open it.

There he is, standing on your doorstep, a faint, hesitant smile playing on his lips. It’s not the expression you expected—no anger, no bitterness, just something softer, something unsure.

“Can I come in?” he asks, his voice quiet but steady.

You nod, stepping aside to let him in. You don’t trust yourself to speak, afraid of what might spill out if you try.

The air feels heavy as you stand in the doorway, watching Hyunjin step inside. His presence stirs up emotions you’ve been trying to suppress for days. His smile is soft, but there’s a nervous energy about him, as though he’s unsure of what he’s doing here.

“I didn’t see you at work,” he starts, his voice light, as if trying to mask the tension. “Thought I’d check in. You know, make sure you weren’t... taking days off as a grieving girlfriend for Flint.”

His attempt at humor makes your chest tighten, but you can’t bring yourself to respond. You cross your arms, standing stiffly as he slowly moves around your space, his eyes scanning the room like he’s committing every detail to memory.

When he finally stops, his gaze locks onto yours. His expression shifts, the teasing gone, replaced by something deeper. “Why did you revoke the love spell?”

The question hits you like a wave. You hesitate, the words caught in your throat. Part of you wants to avoid it, to bury the truth even deeper, but you know he deserves to hear it.

You inhale sharply, steadying yourself. “Because I love you,” you admit, your voice trembling. “Too much to keep you like that.”

The confession spills out, leaving you vulnerable in a way you haven’t been before. Tears threaten to blur your vision, but you fight to hold them back, not wanting to fall apart in front of him.

Hyunjin steps closer, his eyes searching yours. “You remember everything, don’t you? From when I was under the spell?”

You nod, your voice barely above a whisper. “Everything.”

“Then why didn’t you say anything?” he presses, his voice tinged with both frustration and hurt.

“I tried,” you choke out, tears now freely falling. “I tried so many times but you... you hate me too much.”

Your voice cracks, and you look away, unable to bear the weight of his gaze. Every word feels like a dagger to your heart, reopening wounds you thought had begun to heal.

Suddenly, Hyunjin closes the distance between you. His hands gently cradle your face, his thumbs brushing away your tears. The tenderness in his touch makes you crumble, and you can’t stop the sobs from escaping.

“You should’ve told me,” he whispers, his voice soft now, almost pained.

Before you can respond, his lips are on yours. The kiss is gentle yet urgent, a mix of longing and regret. You melt into him, your hands gripping the fabric of his shirt as if he might vanish if you let go.

For the first time in what feels like an eternity, the ache in your chest subsides, replaced by the warmth of his embrace.

-

Tracing every curve of your body feels like a trip back to his favorite place. Hyunjin may not remember it but he knows, he's been here before and it brings out that sense of belonging. He uses his hands, his lips to retrace the steps and as he puts his body on top of you, his body fits yours like two pieces of puzzle.

“How can I forget such beautiful body?” He mutters with a gentle kiss on your navel.

He continues the kisses upward until his lips reunite with yours again and each kiss he plants is harder and longer than the previous one. One hand glides down your front and not stopping until his fingers meet your wet sex.

Intrigued by the delicate flesh, Hyunjin looks down as he pushes his slender fingers inside you, he watches as you take them and his eyes widen at how you clench around them. He gulps air before saying, “You know how to get me impatient.”

Slowly, he pulls his two fingers and not wasting time to shove them into his mouth, his luscious lips wrapped around his fingers as he sucks, hard.

“How can I forgot this sweet, sweet taste.” His voice is so low it's almost like a whisper.

His patience runs thin. He parts your legs wider and positions himself in between. While stroking his cock in his hand, Hyunjin’s intense eyes fixated on yours and the way he can see the want in your eyes... he's stroking his cock faster than before.

Hyunjin can’t waste another second just looking at your gushing cunt and let it tantalizing him the longer he looks at it. He holds the side of your thighs after placing his cock in your wetness, he begins rocking his hips back and forth, rubbing his length in between your slit and at the same time, smearing your essence all over it.

“Fucking goodness!” He breathlessly says with his deep, heavy voice, tinted with hurries.

Hyunjin glides his hands down to your hips and holds you still as he pushes his cock, his eyes fixated on watching his length disappearing into you little by little. He unconsciously holds his breathe watching you take it, the size, the girth, and the veins coiling around it.

The moment he's fully sheathed inside you, Hyunjin drops his head into the crook of your neck. With his mouth resting so close to your ear, you can hear his raw, low groans. After a moment of composing himself, Hyunjin hovers above you, a hand cupping your jaw.

“Tell me, mmh?” He hastily kisses your lips in between sentences. “Tell me how can I forgot this tightness, this... fucking good pussy?”

Hyunjin props his hands on each side of you as he begins moving his hips, slowly and deliberately, his eyes fluttering shut as if he can't comprehend the sensation of each his movement caused.

“Oh, fucking...” He can't even finish his sentence but pulls out of you immediately. He knows that if he's inside you for a second longer, he'll lost it.

He frowns at the detachment and makes up for it by kissing you, placing his lips on every inch of skin available to him that breathing becomes unnecessary to him. Hungry for more skin to kiss, he flips you over, one hand holding you down by the nape of the neck as his plush lips peppering your back with soft yet searing kisses.

“How are you so soft all over?” His voice filled with disbelief but he doesn’t necessarily needs an answer from you as he plants his mouth on the base of your spine.

He makes use of his other hand to fondle your ass cheeks and from there, it's making its way back to your cunt, fingers teasing around your entrance, making it wet as he's ready to penetrate again.

On his second attempt, Hyunjin has better self control, he takes a deep breathe once he's fully buried inside you and then slowly, he lays on top of you, his chest meeting your back, skin to skin.

Lying face down with your head on the pillow, he puts all of your hair to the side and then presses a gentle kiss on the column of your throat. With utmost carefulness, Hyunjin begins thrusting from behind you and the skin slapping sounds filling the room.

Putting his hand around your neck, he tilts your head to the back until your eyes meet his. “You feel so fucking good, do you know that?” A smirk tugging at the corner of his lips as he says it.

You only nod as you innocently gaze into his eyes and lowly moaning to his thrusts, arousing him more than he expected. You drop your head to the side, leaning against his forearm as he intently watches your facial expressions ever changing as the pleasure mounting inside you.

“You're close, mmh, beautiful?” He's picking up the pace but he asks you so sweetly.

Your wide-eyed gaze lingers on him as you lick your lips and nod.

Hyunjin can’t help himself but kisses your open mouth as he feels you tightening around his cock and plants a lingering peck on your lips. “I'm not going to stop until you come around my cock.”

He takes your hand and laces it together as he closes the gap between your bodies, his hips not slowing down even for a moment, determined to give you your release.

“Hyunjin...” you softly whine.

It's hard to ignore how you tighten around him, how you're sucking him deeper into yours as you hit your climax. He holds on to his last shred of self control to not lose it there. He wants to make this lasts for as long as possible.

As you're dealing with the waves of pleasure lapping over you, Hyunjin places kisses on your neck and shoulders, eventually your lips as satisfed moans spilling out of your parted lips. He holds you close and as he maneuvers himself to lay back on the mattress.

Giving you a moment of rest, Hyunjin uses the time to cuddle you, wrapped his muscular arms around you and stays like that as you're relishing your orgasm.

You turn your head to the back to face him, demanding a kiss from him and he gives it without a doubt, pressing a kiss on your lips.

The sheet is a crumpled mess as you bodies slithering together, limbs all over each other, touching, squeezing, pressing... it doesn’t take long to get you hot all over again.

Hyunjin reluctantly lets go one of his hands busy fondling your breasts and lowering it to your core, rubbing your clit that engorges the more he stimulates it. If only his mouth was resting close to it, he'd suck on it. He uses his fingers instead, pinching it in between, earning a soft gasp from you.

“Hyunjin,” you softly call his name. “Put it back in.”

In response, Hyunjin hastily kisses your lips. “With pleasure.”

In the midst of him thrusting you from behind, you lift your leg and put it over his thigh, providing him more depth and allowing him to continue circling your clit to give you extra  stimulation.

His lips keep lathering yours and he likes how your moans spilling into his mouth, hot and sultry, and at times, he doesn’t stop himself from playfully sucks on your tongue.

“Keep clenching around me like that and I'm going to... oh, cum a lot inside you,” he finishes his sentence with a haste kiss on your lips. “Is what where you want it, mmh? Inside?”

You curve your arm around his neck and bring his head close for a kiss. “Inside. Yes.”

“Thank fuck!” He playfully curses against your lips. “Cause I don't think I'd be able to pull out right in time.”

With that being said, Hyunjin moves at such ease, trying to delay his high as long as possible and savoring every second of it, his arms tightening around you as he thrusts into you slowly yet with such intensity that makes your body squirms in reaction.

His head is buried deep in your neck as he incessantly moving to chase his high and when he finally comes undone, he holds you tightly.

With his head still clouded with overwhelming pleasure, you bring his hand that is resting between your legs to your mouth and he watches as you take each one of his fingers into your mouth, sucking it with your eyes closed. Once you're done with all the five fingers, you bring his hand down to your breast to fondle it together with him.

You turn your head to the side to capture his lips in yours and Hyunjin likes every bit of this moment. The intimacy, the tenderness of it all, you.

He slightly pulls away from the kiss to say. “I don't want to forget this.”

Lying beside you in the quiet stillness of your bedroom, Hyunjin feels a rare sense of peace. He pulls you closer, his arm wrapped securely around your waist. His gaze softens as it meets yours, and he notices how the faint glow of moonlight highlights the lingering sadness in your expression.

Without thinking, his hand reaches for yours, his thumb brushing over the tender scar on your palm. It’s a reminder of the ritual you performed, the night everything began to shift.

His voice is soft as he asks, “Does it still hurt?”

You shake your head, your lips curving into the smallest of smiles. But Hyunjin’s heart aches all the same. Slowly, he lifts your hand to his lips, pressing a gentle kiss to the scarred skin. The simple act feels more intimate than anything he’s done before, as though he’s sealing his own unspoken promise.

There’s something stirring in him—an ache, a yearning, a strange sense of déjà vu. It’s like his heart remembers moments his mind refuses to recall, fragments of the love spell that linger despite everything. As he holds you, Hyunjin begins to wonder if the spell merely amplified something that was already there.

His voice breaks the silence as he sees the tenderness in the way you gaze at him. “What are you thinking?”

You hesitate for a moment, your eyes searching his face, before answering quietly. “Do you still hate me?”

Hyunjin laughs softly, shaking his head and then presses a kiss on your lips.

“No,” he says, his voice warm and reassuring. “Not even close.”

-

Your mornings have become a ritual of their own. The day always begins earlier now, with Hyunjin beside you. The first rays of sunlight filter through the curtains, illuminating his peaceful expression as he lies next to you. It’s a moment you savor before the world demands the façade of professionalism you’ve both agreed to maintain.

Hyunjin stirs, pulling you closer, burying his face in the crook of your neck. “Just five more minutes,” he mumbles, his voice husky with sleep.

You smile, threading your fingers through his hair. “Only five,” you tease, knowing full well it’ll stretch longer.

Soon, what started as lazy cuddles turns into a heating moment of your bodies pressed so close together and a little later, he has you around him.

You're straddling him on the bed with both feet planted against the mattress as a leverage, allowing you to bounce on his cock. His hands resting on each side of your waist, angling your body and at the same time, guiding your movements.

Hyunjin’s mouth is full of your flesh, his tongue circling around your nipple before sucking it as hard as he could. His eyes are wide and dark with lust, looking up at you with his mouth gaping open.

“Keep going, baby.” He sweetly mutters with a haste kiss on your neck and jaw. “Fuck me good. Drain me.”

Instead of adding speed, you choose to keep the steady pace but you switch to roll your hips while intentionally clenching around him. You like watching him overwhelmed by pleasure, his mouth gaping open with raw groans spilling out of it.

When he finally cum around you, you hold his gaze and watch as pleasure filled his eyes. Hyunjin tightens his hold around you and draws you close as he releases his seed inside you. His lips begin to plant kisses on your skin, shoulder, chest, neck and then he traces down your jaw with his plush lips before capturing your lips in a heated kiss.

“It's been more than five minutes, ” you playfully say and he looks so beautiful as you cradle his face in your hands that you can't help but kiss his red, full lips.

He shakes his head and wrapping his arms tightly around you. “Stay. Don't pull away yet.”

His hand glides up to the nape of your neck, allowing him to angle your head as he pleases as he leans in for a long, lingering kiss that takes your breath away. He smiles when he breaks the kiss and keeps his forehead pressed against yours as he jokingly says, “You didn’t put me under a spell again, right?”

You loop your arms around his neck and play with the tendrils of hair on the back of his head. “Even if I did, it's a spell to make you less clingy around me.”

Hyunjin lets out a low chuckle but it's enough to make his eyes form two crescent moons. “Are you sure it's not the other way around?”

“A hundred percent sure.” You place a long peck on his lips as he reciprocates with a longer one.

“We should do it.” Hyunjin says out of the blue.

You blink at him, confused. “Do what?”

“I saw it on your spellbook,” Hyunjin says, his gaze steady and unwavering. “The one that binds our souls together.”

Your reaction is immediate—your eyes widen in shock, and you shake your head. “No,” you say firmly. “You don’t have to do something like that. You don't have to prove anything.”

“It’s not about proving anything,” Hyunjin says, sitting up slightly so he can look at you more directly.

“It’s about not forgetting. I don’t want to lose this—or you—again. If there’s even a chance it could happen…” He trails off, his voice softening. “I want to remember. All of it.”

You sit up as well, staring at him with a mixture of disbelief and concern. “Hyunjin, this isn’t something to take lightly. Our souls would be connected forever. You don’t want to do this.”

But Hyunjin has already made up his mind. He cups your face in his hands, his thumbs brushing away the tears that threaten to spill from your eyes. “I know what I want,” he says gently. “And it’s you. So if this is the way to keep you, then let’s do it.”

His resolve is unwavering, and though doubt flickers in your eyes, Hyunjin knows you’ll agree. You love him, and you’ve already sacrificed so much to be with him. Now, it’s his turn to choose you.

-

Reluctantly, you flip through your spellbook, finding the ritual you hadn’t dared to consider before. The process is simple, yet the weight of its meaning is anything but. You scan the instructions one last time and gather what you need: a spool of red thread and the candles from your altar.

The room is dimly lit, the soft glow of flickering candlelight dancing against the walls. You’ve drawn the rune onto the floor with meticulous care, the ancient symbol connecting you both to the magic you’re about to invoke. Sitting across from each other inside the rune, you watch Hyunjin’s face, searching for any sign of hesitation.

“Are you absolutely sure you want to do this?” you ask, your voice quiet but firm.

“I’m sure,” he says, his gaze steady and unwavering.

“This is permanent,” you remind him one last time as you hold the spellbook in your hands. “Once our souls are bound, there’s no undoing it.”

Hyunjin meets your gaze, his expression calm but resolute. “I know,” he says.

You nod, swallowing the knot of nerves in your throat, and reach for his hands. They’re warm and steady as they clasp yours, his touch grounding you as you prepare for what’s to come.

With slow, deliberate movements, you begin to wrap the red thread around your joined hands, your fingers trembling ever so slightly as you secure the bond. The thread feels heavier than it should, its weight symbolic of the promise you’re making to each other.

You take a deep breath and close your eyes, letting the words of the spell flow from your lips like a soft melody:

“Thread of fate, bond of soul. Tie us together, make us whole. Heart to heart, spirit to spirit. Forever bound, no end or limit.”

The candles around you flicker, their flames growing taller as the magic begins to take hold. The air feels charged, alive with energy, and you open your eyes to see Hyunjin watching you intently.

“Repeat after me,” you say softly, your voice steady despite the whirlwind of emotions inside you.

Hyunjin nods, his voice strong and clear as he echoes your words, completing the incantation:

“Thread of fate, bond of soul. Tie us together, make us whole. Heart to heart, spirit to spirit. Forever bound, no end or limit.”

As the final words of the spell fall from his lips, you both feel it—the shift, the connection, the unexplainable pull that tells you the ritual has worked.

You look up at Hyunjin, your hands still bound by the red thread. His gaze is soft, almost reverent, and without thinking, the two of you lean toward each other. Your lips meet in a kiss that feels different from any you’ve shared before. It’s not just a kiss—it’s a vow, a seal, a promise etched into the very fabric of your beings.

When you finally pull back, the red thread glows faintly for a moment before fading into nothing, leaving only the warmth of Hyunjin’s touch and the knowledge that your souls are now—and forever—bound.

For better or for worse, you are his, and he is yours.

-

When the day finally begins, it’s with a shared rhythm. A warm shower where water cascades over tangled limbs, soft laughter echoing off the tiles. Breakfast at the table, the mundane act of eating transformed into something tender in the quiet intimacy you share.

Hyunjin always leaves first, heading home to change before work. You watch him go, knowing you’ll see him soon. True to habit, the two of you arrive at the office at almost the same time.

In the elevator, it’s a delicate dance. The veneer of professionalism must remain intact, yet the shared glances and sly smiles betray the connection between you. There’s a thrill in the secrecy, a spark that makes each stolen moment feel more precious.

As the elevator chimes at Hyunjin’s floor, he steps out, turning to flash you a smile just before the doors close. It’s small, almost imperceptible to anyone else, but to you, it’s everything.

When the elevator resumes its ascent, you find yourself smiling too. But it’s not just the thought of Hyunjin that occupies your mind. As you glance at your hands, you feel it—the power surging beneath your skin, stronger than ever.

The binding ritual didn’t just intertwine your soul with Hyunjin’s. It did something more. It restored what you thought you had lost, your magic power returning with a force you hadn’t expected. The price? Flint’s soul.

You tell yourself it wasn’t intentional, that his death appearing so natural was merely an unforeseen consequence. Yet deep down, you know the truth.

The sacrifice wasn’t accidental. It was necessary.

Now, you’re more powerful than ever. Hyunjin doesn’t know, and perhaps he doesn’t need to. What matters is that your soul is bound to his, and with your magic restored, you can ensure it stays that way.

You clench your hands into fists, feeling the hum of energy within. For the first time in a long time, you’re not afraid. Not of Flint, not of losing Hyunjin, not of anything.

This is your world now. And you’ll do whatever it takes to protect it.

“With fire in my veins and steel in my spine. Today the world bends, and all power is mine.”

-

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[existence-is-a-pain87]

I am begging you PLEASE do Y/N and yandere twisted toons interactions!!! AND MY SOUL WILL BE YOURS. Could you make the, a bit silly too? :)

Silly is my middle name (it actually isn't but who cares? Endri Silly DaDragon has a nice ring to it anyways, hehe)

Twisted With You

The sequel to Talking to You two awesome people asked for!

Yandere!Self-Aware!Dandy's World x Toon!Reader

Warnings: Obsession and other general yandere behaviors

--☆☆☆☆☆--

Everyone became a Twisted eventually. You couldn't do anything to change it.

You tried though. Tried like hell.

You failed.

But even as a Twisted, they retained their obsession with you.

They chased you down, hunting you with desperation in their eyes rather than bloodthirsty rage. (Shrimpo was still angry, but he was always angry).

Did them being Twisted stop you from talking to them? No.

Some of them even could talk back.

And god, was their obsession worse than ever...

--☆☆☆--

Astro

Astro: Starshine...

[Name]: ...

Astro: You look... exhausted...

[Name]: Because of your magic.

Astro: ...please, just stay with me and rest. Just for a little bit...

[Name]: No.

Astro: ...

[Name]: ...if you start chasing me down, I swear-

Astro: ...I'm sorry.

[Name]: ...dang it.

---

[Name]: Astro, can you please stop trying to force me to stay here with you?

Astro: But-

[Name]: I like being awake, y'know.

Astro: It's for your safety-!

[Name]: ...Astro. None of the other Twisteds want to hurt me. What am I in danger of?!

Astro: Their obsessions? The fact they want to keep you as theirs? Dandy?

[Name]: ...touché.

--☆☆☆--

Bassie

Bassie: Hi...

[Name]: Bassie, why'd you plant a flower right outside the elevator?

Bassie: It's for you... do you like it..?

[Name]: It's pretty, but it drastically slows me down.

Bassie: Y- yeah...

[Name]: Also, when you wait right there it gives me little chance to run...

Bassie: Y- you want to run? From me!?

[Name]: No. From Dandy, in case he gets pissed.

Bassie: ...oh.

---

Bassie: Do you... still like me?

[Name]: Of course I do. What makes you think I don't?

Bassie: I look like... this.

[Name]: Yeah, and you're beautiful still. Stop being self-depricating.

Bassie: ...

[Name]: Hm?

Bassie: I love you...

[Name]: Huh?

Bassie: N- nothing! Haha!

Bobette

--☆☆☆--

Blot

Blot: gniht lufituaeb uoy ,ereht olleH

[Name]: Blot, please let me go. I do not enjoy being held like this.

Blot: .esolc tog ylgnilliw ohw eno eht erew uoY

[Name]: Well, I didn't expect you to grab me like this.

Blot: .siht ekil uoy gnidloh peek ot em tnaw t'nod uoy fi ,yaw taht uoy eldduc dna ereh nwod uoy tis tsuj nac I

[Name]: ...yeah, I'd like that more than this.

Blot: ~uoy rof gnihtynA .esruoc fO

--☆☆☆--

Bobette: I heard you pick something up, angel~

[Name]: ...

Bobette: Don't worry, I know you're not greedy...

[Name]: ...

Bobette: What'd you grab?

[Name]: Health kit...

Bobette: ...who.

[Name]: Huh?

Bobette: Who made you need that health kit!?

---

Bobette: I'm tired of you spending time with the others...

[Name]: What do you mean?

Bobette: They horde you. I'm sick of it.

[Name]: Wouldn't you technically horde me too if only you got to have me?

Bobette: ...

[Name]: And also aren't I a living, sentient being?

Bobette: ...you ask too many questions, angel. Let's just go cuddle.

[Name]: Ah-

--☆☆☆--

Boxten

Boxten: ...

[Name]: I hear you playing your music.

Boxten: Is it... too muffled?

[Name]: No, even with the ichor in your head, I hear the music.

Boxten: That's a relief...

[Name]: Mhm...

Boxten: Do you... like it?

[Name]: It's very sweet of you, thank you.

Boxten: Always...

--☆☆☆--

Brightney

[Name]: Can you stop turning the lights off?

Brightney: Why?

[Name]: I can't see well in the dark.

Brightney: But isn't it easier for you to find me?

[Name]: I see you just fine in light spaces, I swear.

Brightney: Okay, I'll try to keep the lights on for you then.

[Name]: Thanks.

--☆☆☆--

Coal

Coal: ...

[Name]: You're gonna crush me if you try sitting on my lap-

Coal: Bworf.

[Name]: So like... don't sit on my lap?

Coal: ...bwork.

[Name]: COAL, NO-

Coal: ...

[Name]: NONONO- NOOOOO-!

--☆☆☆--

Cocoa

Cocoa: Choco kiss! I brought you a bonbon!

[Name]: Oh, thank you.

Cocoa: Here, eat it right now!

[Name]: ...Why is it so... dark?

Cocoa: ...

[Name]: Is this... ichor?

Cocoa: ...just eat it.

[Name]: Eh, I'll just wait a bit, okay?

Cocoa: ...okay!

--☆☆☆--

Connie

[Name]: Get out of the machine, Connie.

Connie: ...

[Name]: Connie...

Connie: ...

[Name]: Please..?

Connie: C'mon... just spin the wheel~

[Name]: ...yeah... no

--☆☆☆--

Cosmo

Cosmo: ...

[Name]: ...

Cosmo: ...you're hurt.

[Name]: So I am.

Cosmo: ...who dared?

[Name]: It doesn't matter.

Cosmo: ...

[Name]: Is that a... cookie?

Cosmo: Eat it.

[Name]: It's covered in ichor...

Cosmo: EAT IT.

--☆☆☆--

Eggson

Eggson: ...

[Name]: ...

Eggson: ...

[Name]: I saw you... uh...

Eggson: It was out of defense.

[Name]: But she wasn't trying to hurt you?

Eggson: It was your defense.

[Name]: Why would she hurt me?

Eggson: ...just let me protect you.

[Name]: ...

--☆☆☆--

Finn

Finn: Angelfish, I sea you!

[Name]: Hi Finn...

Finn: Hi~

[Name]: Can you not use your ability on me to slow me down like this?

Finn: I just want you to stay close to me.

[Name]: But I need to go other places.

Finn: I could just bite off your legs if it'll be easier to keep you with me.

[Name]: ...y'know what, your ability on it's own is fine.

Finn: But we'd be matching!

[Name]: I like having legs, thanks...

Finn: Aw...

--☆☆☆--

Flutter

Flutter: ...

[Name]: Huh?

Flutter: ..?

[Name]: I-

Flutter: ..♡

[Name]: Oh my-

Flutter: ..♡

[Name]: Flutter you can't say that-

Flutter: ♡♡♡

--☆☆☆--

Flyte

Flyte: Hello there~

[Name]: Oh, Flyte!

Flyte: You know, my wings are bigger like this...

[Name]: Uh... yeah..?

Flyte: ...heh.

[Name]: Flyte..?

Flyte: Oh, nothing...

[Name]: ...

--☆☆☆--

Gigi

Gigi: Girlie!

[Name]: NO! NOPE! NO-!

Gigi: Get over here!

[Name]: NO! PLEASE!

Gigi: C'MERE!

[Name]: NOOOO!!

--☆☆☆--

Ginger

Ginger: Snickerdoodle, are you..?

[Name]: I'm just mildly injured...

Ginger: ...

[Name]: ...

Ginger: Want me to make you something to make you feel better?

[Name]: Huh?

Ginger: I mean, it'll probably be stained in ichor, so I can just go find you something else.

[Name]: There's no need, but thank you.

Ginger: Of course. Just stay around me, okay?

--☆☆☆--

Glisten

Glisten: ...

[Name]: Glisten, you don't have to hug me constantly...

Glisten: Please just stay close...

[Name]: I will. You don't need to cling to me...

Glisten: Please...

[Name]: I promise I won't...

Glisten: ...I love you, don't leave me.

--☆☆☆--

Goob

Goob: Sib..?

[Name]: ...oh.

Goob: SIB!

[Name]: Guess I'm never escaping this hug...

--☆☆☆--

Looey

Looey: There you are...

[Name]: ...

Looey: Can you stop running? We're not going to hurt you.

[Name]: I know. I just would rather-

Looey: Do you hate us?

[Name]: What?! No!

Looey: Then why do you keep avoiding us?

[Name]: I-

Looey: Just stop running.

--☆☆☆--

Pebble

Pebble: Arf! Bark!

[Name]: ...

Pebble: Bark!

[Name]: No.

Pebble: Grrr...

[Name]: I saw you eat someone, BACK AWAY-!

Pebble: (Whine).

---

Pebble: Bark!

[Name]: ...

Pebble: Bark! Bark!

[Name]: Back.

Pebble: Grrr...

[Name]: ...I think I like cats more now.

Pebble: (Snarl).

--☆☆☆--

Poppy

Poppy: Hi...

[Name]: Hi Poppy.

Poppy: ...Can we..?

[Name]: Yes, we can.

Poppy: Thank you...

--☆☆☆--

Razzle & Dazzle

[Name]: Okay, the two are asleep. Just gotta walk through their circle real quick...

R&D: ...

[Name]: Let's just do this quickly, and not wake them up-

R&D: Hi there~ (Hello...)

[Name]: Huh? Weren't you two asleep!?

R&D: Don't worry about it! Waking up to you is always amazing. (You weren't really quiet when you were talking to yourself...)

[Name]: Oh, I-

R&D: C'mon, let's just cuddle! (...please stay close...)

[Name]: ...fine, just for a bit...

--☆☆☆--

Rodger

Rodger: You're such an oblivious thing.

[Name]: ...

Rodger: Don't give me the silent treatment now.

[Name]: ...

Rodger: Love, don't be like this.

[Name]: ...you're such a jerk.

Rodger: Calm down, love. There's no need to fuss.

[Name]: ...

--☆☆☆--

Rudie

Rudie: ...

[Name]: Rudie, please-

Rudie: Do you still like Halloween now?

[Name]: Rudie-

Rudie: Do you like it more than you like me?

[Name]: I-

Rudie: Say it. Say that Christmas is your favorite.

[Name]: Christmas is my favorite holiday, okay?! Let me go!

Rudie: ...thank you...

--☆☆☆--

Scraps

Scraps: There you are, sib~

[Name]: ...

Scraps: You really need to stop fussing so much. Goob and I are just trying to take care of you.

[Name]: I'm older than you...

Scraps: ...

[Name]: ...

Scraps: Just let us love you.

--☆☆☆--

Shelly

Shelly: Rawr!

[Name]: Hi Shelly.

Shelly: Roar?

[Name]: I'd love that, thank you.

Shelly: (Chitter).

[Name]: Of course.

---

Shelly: Roar..?

[Name]: I don't care that you can't talk anymore, Shelly. I understand you just fine.

Shelly: Rawr!

[Name]: But the possessiveness is a major issue.

Shelly: (Chitter)...

[Name]: It's okay, I know you don't have any bad intentions.

Shelly: (Chitter)!

--☆☆☆--

Shrimpo

Shrimpo: AHDJANSH!

[Name]: You don't need to yell...

Shrimpo: AKRHAIJSNDKAOAID!

[Name]: You're already pinning me down in a hug...

Shrimpo: JSHAIANSNSO!

[Name]: ...if I give you a kiss, will you let me go?

Shrimpo: ...jahshs.

[Name]: Okay, thank you.

--☆☆☆--

Sprout

Sprout: ...

[Name]: I am not eating the ichor cupcake, Sprout.

Sprout: Majdisksjsjksk.

[Name]: I don't care, I'm not eating it.

Sprout: Jaisiansjskksksl...

[Name]: Let me out of your tendril and-

Sprout: Ghasgsik!

[Name]: Gah- Sprout- no-!

---

Sprout: Gahsgsusjl.

[Name]: Y'know, if you didn't break my trust, I'd eat the food you give me.

Sprout: ...

[Name]: Did you ever think of that?

Sprout: Jakdjsiaksjsk.

[Name]: ...figured. Now, just leave me alone.

Sprout: Kaksosjsmsm.

[Name]: Huh? What are you-? Wait-!

--☆☆☆--

Teagan

Teagan: Mskpajshm?

[Name]: The tea is great, thank you.

Teagan: Hsnamsksm?

[Name]: It's a bit ichor-y, but perfect otherwise.

Teagan: Kamsksjsmm.

[Name]: Thank you again, Teagan.

Teagan: Mosnsmm.

--☆☆☆--

Tisha

Tisha: You're filthy!

[Name]: Twisteds covered in ichor keep hugging me...

Tisha: Oh, absolutely not!

[Name]: It's annoying but it's fine...

Tisha: No it's not! We are cleaning you right now!

[Name]: What do you mean..?

Tisha: Take off your clothes, I'm giving you a bath.

[Name]: WHAT?! IN WHAT TUB?!

Tisha: ...valid argument.

--☆☆☆--

Toodles

Toodles: Can we play tag?

[Name]: Can you run on your legs instead of crawling on the ground?

Toodles: ...

[Name]: Is that a no..?

Toodles: ...can we play house?

[Name]: ...sure kid, sure. We can play house.

Toodles: Yay!

--☆☆☆--

Vee

Vee: Stop running already...

[Name]: Maybe then stop spamming me with ads the second I look away from you!

Vee: Just stop looking away then!

[Name]: You are not my sole focus!

Vee: Well, you're mine, so shut up and let me be yours!

[Name]: I swear-

Vee: Just shut up and kiss me already.

[Name]: How? You don't have a mouth!

Vee: We can try anyways, you dolt!

[Name]: I'll only kiss you if you let me leave afterwards.

Vee: Deal. But we're kissing for the next ten minutes.

[Name]: Dang it... fine.

---

[Name]: You know that no one likes pop-up ads, right?

Vee: But they are quite effective.

[Name]: Effective at being annoying...

Vee: You're just annoyed because you're bad at machines.

[Name]: If you stopped spamming me with ads, I'd be better!

Vee: Oh hush.

[Name]: ...

--☆☆☆--

Yatta

Yatta: THERE YOU ARE!

[Name]: Ack-

Yatta: It's VERY ANNOYING when you KEEP RUNNING AWAY FROM US!!

[Name]: Look, yall are amazing, I just can't stay.

Yatta: Doesn't matter. STAY WITH US!!

[Name]: Uh-

Yatta: Will candy make you stay with us? WILL IT!?

[Name]: Yatta, please-

Yatta: CANDY FOR YOU!

--☆☆☆--

Dandy

Dandy: Should've bought somethin' from me, dewdrop...

[Name]: ...maybe don't sell trash items then.

Dandy: Oh, shut your mouth.

[Name]: Go screw yourself.

Dandy: Hehe, you know just as well as me there's no need for me to do that.

[Name]: ...

Dandy: Don't worry, I promise to be gentle...

---

Dandy: You're doing so well on these machines, dewdrop!

[Name]: ...

Dandy: Aw, being quiet now? You know I love it when you speak your mind!

[Name]: ...

Dandy: Better to talk now anyways. You're going to be quiet enough later...

[Name]: ...

Dandy: Hehe... Come out wherever you are~!

---

Dandy: You're not that great at hiding, you know...

[Name]: As long as I can outrun you, I'm good.

Dandy: Pfft- Silly little dewdrop, you can only run for so long...

[Name]: ...

Dandy: I'll catch you in the end~ No matter where you go, I'll find you~

[Name]: I hate you.

Dandy: ...I recommend you take that back right now.

--☆☆☆--

I low-key wanna do interactions with my fan-made Halloween Toons, would yall wanna see that?

Also, I'm so sorry this took so long to get out! It took me forever to make myself sit down and actually write. (Don't worry, I'm good now and next week I should have more free time to write, especially around the weekend.)

[gracie-eilish]

roommate!billie [pt 5]

au masterlist

warnings: making out, talking about smutty things but no actual smut.

an: sorry this took so long!! it was a holiday weekend in the US so i was crazy busy at work!! i’ll probably be less busy this week so hopefully i can finish up this series and get back to my pride prompts!!

roommate!billie, who practically floated through life nowadays, since you asked her to be your girlfriend.

roommate!billie, who treated you genuinely like a princess.

roommate!billie, who would be pacing around the room, nervous as hell when room selection day came.

being rising sophomores [second year of college/uni] meant you two had second to last pick when it came to housing. and the complete last pick when it came to upperclassmen housing.

you two had agreed, living in the dorms another year wouldn’t be be the worst, but an apartment on campus would be even better. at the bare minimum, you two live well together. clean, respectful of each others space and things, never had many problems about temperature and whatnot. that was just elevated now that you two were dating.

“okay worst case scenario, we could always do two single rooms sharing a bathroom? that way we each have space but we can just sleep in one or the others room every night.” you were rambling on and on, about all the possibilities you two could end up with. billie’s heart fluttered as every single one of them, ended with some explanation of how you’d end up in each others bed.

roommate!billie, who learned how to use pinterest when you shared a board with her, so you two could decorate your rooms to feel homey.

roommate!billie, who is now obsessed with pinterest.

roommate!billie, who thought she loved quiet nights with you before… but by god she loved them now. especially with the spring rain coming in almost everyday…

roommate!billie, who opened the window a sliver every night it was supposed to rain, so it would get chilly enough that you would snuggle closer to her in your sleep.

roommate!you, who didn’t even know where your little purple humidifier was at this point.

roommate!billie, who just had to ask…

“so, what is your obsession with sleep?” she leaned on the doorway of your bathroom, as you finished up some skincare. every product had some kind of relaxing scent, or some magical promise to help you destress and sleep better.

“oh god, i’m such a light sleeper! if i don’t do my whole like routine, i’m basically screwed. ever since i was younger, like genuinely a mouse could breathe in a silent room and it would wake me up.”

“huh,” billie muttered, still confused.

“what?”

“nothing, it’s just.. you always knock out like a light. at least when you sleep with me you’re always out so fast i can’t keep up.”

“really?”

“mmhmm. i look down to say something and you’re already drooling on my pillow.”

“i don’t drool!” you giggled.

“ok i’m messing with you there. but yeah.. you fall asleep so fast! are you waking up in the middle of the night?” she came up behind you in the mirror, setting her hands on the sides of your shoulders, rubbing the skin softly.

“well.. actually i- wow you know what i don’t think i am. i did in the fall, like august, september, maybe a bit of october.. and then a bunch when i went home for winter break..” you trailed off. “but not recently. i guess i wasn’t paying attention.”

“well no, you were asleep.” she teased, making you turn to playfully hit her.

“i’m just saying! i noticed it in november, after we went on our first date. you’d just fall asleep in my arms.”

“oh.” you had a small, flushed, smile on your face.

roommate!billie, who always slipped an extra umbrella in your bag the night before, knowing you’d forget and get stuck in the rain between classes

roommate!billie, who offered to drive you to further classes…. kissing you goodbye each time, leaving her flustered in the drivers seat.

roommate!billie, who loved taking walks at night as it got warmer. right after dinner. she’s always suggest walking to and from the meal hall, or it was one of your favorite parts of the day now.

roommate!billie, who practically sterilized the room when the pollen count got high and your allergies flared up.

roommate!you, who’s parents, came to visit one saturday, to start taking some things back home with them since the semester ended next month.

“hey lovey!” your mom called, shutting the car door.

“hi mommy!!” you called back, walking towards her to let her engulf you in a hug.

you brought her upstairs to yours and billie’s shared room, unlocking it and letting her in.

roommate!billie, who is ADORED by your parents, even before you realized you liked girls and started dating.

“hi mrs. y/l/n!” she said, climbing down off her bed to give her a hug.

“hi you!! you sick of my daughter yet??” she teased pulling away from the hug, shooting you a wink as you playfully scoffed.

“aww i could never be, she’s too perfect,” she came over to hug you playfully, kissing your cheek while you tried to hide your smile.

you three spent the next hour or so, packing up some non-essentials, and moving things down to your moms car. some decor, winter clothes and boots, last semesters textbooks you forgot back in december, things you definitely wouldn’t be needing over the next four weeks.

at one point, you moved your bed away from the wall, to reach some bigger things stored down there, leaving your bed in the middle of the floor to deal with later.

well now it was later. your mom took you and billie to dinner, at the quaint little diner a few minutes from campus, before sending you both off with hugs and kisses and good luck ending the semester.

“i’m gonna shower real quick,” you said as billie unlocked the door, holding it open for you. she just smiled and nodded, kissing your cheek quickly.

as the bathroom door closed, billie put her hands on her hips, looking at the bed in the middle of the floor, when she had an idea.

meanwhile in the shower, you heard quite the commotion in your room. something squeaking on the floor, loud and a little annoying. but you figured it was just billie being a gentlewoman moving you bed back for you.

you were met with quite the surprise when you finally opened the bathroom door.

billie was sat in the middle, of your two twin sized beds pushed together to make one big bed. she had a big fluffy blanket that barely covered both beds, but was big enough for you two to snuggle under.

“what did you get up to missy?” you had a teasing, flustered smile on your face.

“i made it into a big bed!! i hope that’s okay?” she got sheepish and red in the cheeks, making her even more adorable.

“yeah!! yeah, no it’s.. it’s perfect.” you stuttered out. slowly you made your way over, hoisting yourself up onto the tall dorm bed, shifting closer to the middle to be closer to billie.

“this feels so like… adult.”

“adult?” billie laughed, “what does that mean?”

you giggled along with her. “i don’t know, like.. adults share a big bed together i guess?? it’s different than sharing one of our beds separately i guess. there’s more room.”

“that is true, there is more room. now you won’t be up against the wall every night,” she giggled.

the two of you laid together for a while, watching tv on billie’s laptop, when the mood shifted a bit.

roommate!billie, who gained quite the reputation last fall, as somewhat of a player. never ghosting hookups, but never committing either.

roommate!billie, who never wanted to pressure you into anything, especially knowing you hadn’t been with any girls, and maybe no guys either.

roommate!billie, who would actually worship you if she ever had the chance to be with you like that. if sex with you is anything like your soft angelic kisses, she’s a goner.

roommate!billie, who wasn’t impatient, but definitely curious.

the tv show you were both watching had become background noise at this point, both of you chit chatting every so often about whatever came to mind.

not to mention flirting. billie was in quite the flirty mood today, especially since she pushed your two beds together.

she just watched you for a moment, smiling softly as she pushed some hair behind your ear. your skin glowing under the colored light of your sunset lamp lighting up the room.

“y’so pretty,” she whispered mainly to herself but the sheepish smile growing on your lips told her you heard it. you leaned up meeting her lips in a kiss.

it started soft, before getting hungrier, more desperate. you moaned softly into the kiss, making billie’s ego inflate about a million sizes. she wanted to hear it over and over and over again.

softly, she helped you lie back without breaking the kiss. your hands threaded through her hair and hers moved around on your waist.

her kisses shifted to the corner of your mouth, your cheek, jaw, jawline, down your neck, until she found your sweet spot, eliciting a whiney, breathy moan from your lips. billie smirked onto your skin at the sound of your little gasps and moans.

her ego would go nuts if she knew that she was the only person to ever make you moan before.

she sucked and licked over the same spot until it bloomed dark on your skin. she began to move down more towards your collarbones, her hands softly moving under your sweatshirt when your breath hitched.

“you okay?” she said, looking up at you from where she was kneeling.

you just lay there, panting, looking at the ceiling, blinking.

“baby, you’re scaring me.” immediately you grabbed her hand from under your sweatshirt and looked down back at her.

“i’m okay.”

“what’s going on love? talk to me please.” she shifted her weight to lay next to you. you played with billie’s fingers, nerves eating away at your breath.

“i’m um.. i’ve never…” you cleared your throat, stalling. billie’s free hand went to rest on your waist over your sweatshirt, her fingers moving softly on your clothed skin.

“have you ever had sex before?” her words were soft, and understanding before you even said your answer. there was no disappointment or bite to her words. you finally made eye contact and wanted to cry. her face was so soft, eyes full of love and warmth.

slowly you shook your head, eyes moving down to yours and billie’s hand, still connected.

“that’s okay baby!! i’m not upset, that’s perfectly fine,” you started to tear up. “oh baby, no. why are you crying pumpkin?”

“because i’m embarrassed about it… and you’re being really nice,” your bottom lip wobbled and your eyes were wide like a baby deer.

“lovey,” billie pouted sympathetically. she sat up against the pillows, bringing you down to her chest to hold you.

“we don’t have to do anything tonight. or anytime soon. or ever if that’s what you want. i’d wait forever for you,” she kissed the top of your head a few times before leaning back a tad to wipe some tears from your face.

“are you sure?” you croaked. billie nodded warmly, her smile so sweet.

“okay,” you nodded and snuggled back into her chest, still hiccuping back tears but slower now as you caught your breath.

billie held you like that for a few minutes. your scared little heart, starting to warm up again, coming out from behind the metaphorical wall you had in there. billie was so sure you had fallen asleep, until you shifted so you could look up at her.

“billie?”

“yeah, baby,”

“can i tell you something.. like kinda big?”

“anything you want, mama.”

“i think i’m falling in love with you.”

“yeah?”

“uh huh..”

“oh babyyy.. i’ve been in love with you for months.”

an: posted at 11:58 pm…. on the 16th like i promised😎🤪