#maybe not quite that level but it'll be bad

[samuelroukin]

idk about that anon but I am so ready for 12 more chapters I want them puking and crying on it I want them trying to kill this love before it kills them too I want them shaking their fists at the sky I want it to get literally unbearable

oh they will be going insane 🫡

[luwha]

LMAO so, recently someone tried to SCAM me, so i'll show you what happened and the telltales of it being a scam.

This one is quite obvious but i know people who are just starting their artist careers and might not have experiece.

Follow the thread:

🚩#1: They pick your most famous/Popular art as reference. They don't know what you actually sell.

🚩#2: They will pick a random popular character. They're not roleplayers or anything. They're not here for the art in any level

You ask me, what are the odds they really like Goku? Oh, well, you'll see. At this point i check their profile for anythign that might indicate it, but as you'll see you won't have to.

🚩#3: They say they saw my ToS. On it i state i only work with paypal and google forms.

🚩#4: Random issue with payment method. They might have a real problem with it, but see; they'll never ever accept any other payment method, such as Zelle, CashApp, Payoneer, Ko-fi, etc.

I already knew this drill so, let's continue.

🚩#5: I love playing dumb lmao. Anyway, this scam revolves on them either sending you "too much money" and asking it back or something like it. I won't be following through because i know it'll be annoying.

BE ADAMANT WITH YOUR METHODS. Do NOT EVER bend them for randos.

🚩#6: They're so ready with the info on how the payment works it's fucking funny.

The reason I PERSONALLY use PayPal INVOICES (no any other payment within paypal) is that they're safe for both me and my client. My rules are stated clearly.

MAKE A ToS I BEG YOU YOUNG ARTIST

🚩#7: They're not even a good scammer lmao they REFUSE to go on my PROFILE to get a link or read anything.

I use Forms because it collects the client requests and it's easier for me to read it all in one place. It ALSO makes scammers bored.

🚩#8: They're so disinterested on the art they don't care for posing, vibes, colors, nothing. Again, they're NOT here for art. That's hilarious.

🚩#8: Same as above. They don't care for posing or anything.

On my art they link me, i have a vampire almost staking himself in a state of euphoria.

IMAGINE VAMPIRE GOKU STAKING HIMSELF THAT'S SO FUCKIGN FUNNY MY BRO, THINK YOUR SCAM THROUGH MAYBE

🚩#9: They will price your own work for you. And they'll overshot what we, smaller artists, charge for it.

They'll overshot by a lot.

They want you to be impressed and showing "generosity" usually gets people who need monay into risky situations. That's just plain cruel.

🚩#9: Same as above. Over generosity and eagerness to pay.

They're not even with the sketch, this haven't been an hour, they don't have any work form me but OH GOD they're SO READY to pay you NEED TO KNOW they WANTS TO PAY YOU SO BAD

Lmao yeah it's working out ❤️

THIS ONE IS JUST HILARIOUS BRO I CAN'T EVEN.

ANYWAY let's continue

🚩#10: They don't know me. They don't follow me. They broke every rule on my ToS. They're making me go through a payment method i am unfamiliar and don't use.

They don't care for my process. They're not interested on my sketch.

BE. ADAMANT. ABOUT. YOUR. RULES. AND. PROCESS.

Now, for the beautiful closure of this:

Have a ToS. Don't bend the rules for randos.

Use Invoices. Be sure you're safe.

Use forms if you'd like. Requests through DM and Discord ARE COMMON FOR OTHER ARTISTS. I personally don't like it, i have ADHD.

Being an artist on an online space is dangerous. If you need help, poke an artist you know, see how they operate and if it fits you. Most of them would help you.

🚩#11: goku isn't even on their icon 😭

This is the account that tried to scam me.

#art is life ❤️

[bunny-jpeg]

hi, can i please order a profiteroles and a peanut butter bar with a side of a bloody mary for george russell? 🧛

bakery menu!!!

want to submit your own order? then hit up the menu! i'd love to hear from you, i love the orders i've gotten thank you to everyone who has submitted something!! i am very interested to do a vampire au, esp with the spooky season upon us!! <3

profiteroles: "come away with me. for a week, together. anywhere you want, we'll go." + peanut butter bars: “scratch me, bite me, just mark me sweetheart. show them I’m yours.” + bloody mary: vampire au

cw: smut/pwp, vampire!george, gentle sex, human!reader, reference to blood & wounds, missionary position, praise

"what's that on your neck?" a friend asked while you were out to lunch. you made a face, knowing immediately what they were referring to. even with the make-up you applied, it still wasn't enough to cover the puncture holes and the bruising.

you simply covered your neck with a laugh, "oh c'mon, never seen a hickey before. and i thought you were the more experienced one." you tried to joke your way through an explanation.

your friend looked to your other friend on her right and raised her eyebrows. both women looked at each other for a moment before the first friend turned back to you, "alright then. next time i think you need a different shade."

you felt your cheeks grow hot, "thank you." you were going to kill your vampire boyfriend.

the first thing you noticed about george was those red eyes. you had never seen someone with red eyes. they pulled you in and rather than george being a master seducer, he was rather comfortable with making you laugh all evening until your face hurt from all the smiling.

you two quickly fell in love and the notion of him being a vampire didn't scare you off in any way. you thought it was cute when you saw his little fangs, you did feel bad that he had a habit of getting horribly sunburn.

"maybe it's because you're british." you said as you applied aloe vera on his shoulders after one afternoon at the beach. he held back a chuckle, you were a funny one.

he still loved to bite you, to taste the sweet crimson blood that coursed through your veins. he loved watching heat bloom in your face, he could feel the warmth even if he couldn't see the blush.

“scratch me, bite me, just mark me sweetheart. show them I’m yours.” he said one evening, the city was alive outside your apartment as your boyfriend's hand was up your skirt. he rested it on your thigh. like with entering a home that wasn't his, he needed to be allowed to touch closer to your heated core.

"is that because you make a mess of my neck?" you asked as you pinched him in the cheeks for a moment, "you want me to bite you in return?"

"it's only fair, isn't it?" he asked as his hand snaked a little further.

"how about you take me on a vacation. i've never been to rainy england, i'd love to see where you grew up."

"where i grew up is buried under new buildings or torn down. you know i've been alive for a long time." he kissed you on the cheek, "but you should come away with me. for a week, together. anywhere you want, we'll go. even england, but it'll look very different from when i was alive."

this man was supposed to be a monster, a creature of the night who ate up poor virgins. but he was gentle, kind. a compassionate lover. the years of being a vampire have made him kinder than most. he had seen beauty, but none quite like you.

so when you leaned in closer to kiss him on the cheek and said, "you can touch me, george." he was able to visibly relax a little. his large hand groped you behind while you were pulled to him and kissing him deeply.

your hands on the front of his shirt as the two of you kissed. you squirmed a little bit but he kept you close to him. his perfect girlfriend, most vampires were often possessive of human lovers. but, george loved you passionately. not with a level of possession. you weren't an item, you were his lover.

eventually you two ended up in the bedroom and george was more than happy to help you out of your clothes. even the little gold chain he gifted you. and you returned the favour, your delicate hands got the buttons of his shirt undone and his belt off. once he was naked along side you, he got you into bed. his hands took a hold of your face as he made you with you deeply. he watched you squirm a little and melt into his touch. you were beyond perfect, perfect in a way that he couldn't really put into words. you were a divine beauty who pulled him in.

"you have an ageless beauty." he smiled close to you, "the kind of beauty i am just simply drawn to." he rubbed up against you, "i'd say that it's the kind of face i've seen over so many lifetimes. but, i'd know if i had seen someone so beautiful before." he smiled at you.

he kissed the apple of your cheek and felt the heat under his lips. he was tempted, to taste such sweet warmth. he could only akin it to honey on a cold day, but he decided against it. he had already made enough of a mess to your pretty throat.

he laid you out on your back and admired the shape of your body. he licked his lips delicately, "more beautiful than midnight. stunning beyond words.' his words made you hot all over. he watched you squirm a little and he beamed.

"please, george. don't make me blush too much." you whined a little as he got his cock up against your slick cunt. he rubbed it a little to tease you, which only made you hotter.

he chuckled, "such a beautiful angel." he soon slid his cock into your achy cunt and watched your back arch a little. it was a beautiful sight, you looked divine under him.

"george." you whined.

he started to move at a comfortable pace. not hard, but faster that it made you feel hot all over. you felt the electricity in your body as he thrusted against you. his hands on your hips as he had a good hold on you.

"george." you said as you held over the covers under you. the comforting feeling of the blankets only added to the heat in your gut. you love the feeling of being so close to him. this wasn't how you imagined your life, making love to a vampire. but you'd never complain. not when the feeling of being with him was so intense.

"i love you." he said, after all this time on the earth. all this time, seeing so many sunrises and sunsets. so much of the planet. to be in bed with you was the more beautiful experience he could have. his kisses became hungrier, but not enough to sink his fangs into your lips. he didn't want to bruise such soft skin.

his pace picked up and he heard your muffled moans. it only encouraged him to keep going. he noticed how tightly you were holding onto the covers and really started to work your achy pussy. he loved the movements and sounds you made. they echoed in his mind as he shifted your hips a little to get at a better angle.

"i love you so much, george." you said with a tightness in your voice, you could feel the inferno in your stomach as he fucked you happily. the feeling of you two together was amazing.

"i love you more." he replied. you two would often 'argue' over who loved who more. but george knew you loved him. that you cared for him deeply. you were the personification of the humanity he had.

the pace became a little less focused and he groaned against you. he was chasing that high, the feeling of climax that made everything in him run painfully hot. you were perfect for him, beyond amazing. he loved you so much.

you held onto the covers tightly as he continued to move against you. you felt the thump of pleasure in the back of your mind as he moved against you. you whined and moaned as the pleasure washed over you. you tensed up against him and let out a loud moan.

you came with a sweet moan and it only spurred george on. he knew he was close to. his movements fast as he yearned for your sweet cunt. with a few more heavy thrusts he finished inside of you with a groan.

he looked at you, hands took a hold of yours as he held them down on the covers. he leaned in and gave you a searing kiss. the kind of kiss that made your stomach to a flip. you melted a little.

when he pulled away, he laid out beside you and rubbed your arm. he could feel the heat under your skin and relaxed at the feeling. it felt comforting, sweet almost. he said, "you're too good for me."

you giggled, "no way. you make me feel like a princess."

"why wouldn't i? you are a princess to me." he took your wrist and kissed it softly. even though he had a small urge to bite, but he wouldn't do it without your consent. so he would be content with the feeling of your pulse.

he looked at you and you looked at him. his red eyes called to you and soon you were kissing him once more. his eyes went wide for a moment before he closed them once more. he held you tightly. <3

[minus-plus-zer0]

Working at Bakugou's Agency Headcanons - Part 2

| Part 1 | ♡ Genre: Fluff ♡ Pairing: Bakugou x Reader

Ever since you broke the ice with Bakugou, he's been finding more time to talk to you at work. You're less likely to call him by his hero name now out of habit.

You feel a little bad though for the co-workers he still yells at though, so you ask him if he could be just a "smidge" nicer to them.

His first instinct is probably to say "NO FREAKING WAY!" but he's been thinking about all the things you said to him before this point and he's at least considering your suggestion, albeit begrudgingly.

That's a victory of a sort.

You're learning a lot about the inner life of a Pro Hero, given how much time you spend working around the agency.

You joked to Bakugou before about surpassing him as a Pro Hero but really, if you put your mind to it, maybe you could do it. Your experience as a secretary could only help and not hurt you. It's a lot of work though.

The idea is still put on hold for now. Especially considering what happened recently. There was a new villain on the streets and they caused a ton of trouble for the Pro Heroes. Bakugou in particular was pretty banged up...

You were worried sick over him during and after the fight. You visited him in the hospital and although you heard he was in a bad mood, he seemed more alert when you entered the room.

He couldn't stand to see you cry. He told you it wasn't your problem and that you should only focus on your work. But you insisted that as a friend you should care.

He doesn't disagree with that, so he lets you stay. He says it'll be easier to keep watch on you this way and he needs to know how the agency's doing anyways.

The agency is not nearly as worried as you are, at least not on a personal level. They're not callous, but they're not close to the man. So you're the only one who visits.

Regardless of the good or bad news, Bakugou enjoys listening to you speak. It's better than being alone in the dull hospital room. You end up talking quite a while and time passes by before you know it. Bakugou's smiling more and more as time goes by.

When Bakugou eventually returns to work, you're talking to him in private about the status of his wounds. He lets you help him with first aid and also with moving around the place. You're literally a shoulder for him to lean on when his issues are at their worst.

Eventually he heals up and you don't have as much of an excuse to talk to him at work, so you go back to your usual amount of interactions. It still nice but never enough...

Bakugou ends up reaching out to you more as a result and this time around, Bakugou is the one to invite you out for dinner! But instead of the fancy restaurant you attended last time, you suggest a more low-key, humble cafe nearby.

He agrees, even though this means he's gotta disguise himself somewhat. There's some private tables in the cafe and it's not too busy with people, but the fancy restaurant was more guarded against the usual common fans and reporters than a simple cafe would ever be.

You poke fun at his disguise and find a good table for you both. As you're making your orders you notice him staring at you from your table and it's very clear he didn't think he was going to get caught looking. You stick your tongue out at him and that leaves him seething at your teasing.

You return with the food and you give it to Bakugou before he can complain about anything. Your careful recommendation on what he should order was right on the money. He likes the food and you can tell by his expression.

You say that to his face, and he screws up his expression so now you can't tell what he's thinking or feeling. He looks deranged.

You want to take a picture to show all your co-workers, but he's got a hand on your phone before you can do anything. Damn him and his fast reflexes!

Since his face isn't screwed up anymore you still want to take a picture, but this time for yourself. You don't tell him that last part, you just ask if you can take a photo of him and his food, for posterity of course. He agrees and he initially keeps his typical grumpy face for the photo. But then a thought occurs to him and he gives you a small smile and you know you just HAVE to take the photo ASAP.

If you didn't have to go back to work, you would've forgotten that he was your boss. He's too close to you now, so many smiles and secrets you didn't think you'd get out of a man like this. But you need something more. You don't want things to stop progressing here, not when it's getting good. However, there's no good way to broach the subject.

Hours later after having a good time together at the cafe, Bakugou is walking you home, all the way to your doorstep.

When you finally reach the place, he tells you he has something to talk about.

He looks like he's a bundle of nerves. He ends up blurting what's on his mind just to get it off his damn chest, and it's just easy for him to talk to you about these kinds of things.

He admits that he doesn't always see you as his secretary, but as his close friend. He knew he had feelings for you at the start, but he thought he could manage that in private so as to not make you uncomfortable.

But he does love you, and he's thinking he's been reading the signs right and that you feel the same.

You just kiss him to confirm his thoughts and he kisses back even deeper than you ever could. He's inexperienced and rough, it's obvious to a T, but it's everything you would want. He's pulling you into his chest and making sure he's tasting every last bit!

Finally you break for air and his smirk is shaky, his body is shaky, and his voice is also shaky when he tells you "You're mine."

"No YOU'RE mine."

He quite likes that!

Though he admits he can't let you work for him anymore if you're together. He'd be letting you go as his secretary, because he would really rather have you as a girlfriend!

Sucks that you're out of a job though. But you heard that Deku is hiring...

[hollowed-theory-hall]

Hi! I want to know your head canons on SLANG! What sort of things to wizards say to sound cool or evoke thoughts or feelings? What sayings might they have? Do we maybe have any in common with them?

We know that “to have a hairy heart” means to be aloof or cold. (Fm Tales of Beedle the Bard)

I once read a very compelling headcanon that Americans would never use no-maj (for non-magical) as a term cuz they like to shorten things so much, and so American wizfolk would use either ‘noma’ or ‘nomie’. As an American I agree tbh.

I hc that the Hogwarts motto “Draco dormiens nunquam titillandus” [never tickle a sleeping dragon] to be a kind of slang for “don’t do that”.

Like, your friend is getting ready to sneak out of her dorm to go see a guy even though she knows Peeves has been feisty lately. “….Draco dormiens, Molly,” you whisper as she sneaks out the door.

Yeah! Any thoughts?

I love this, and I definitely think there are wizard versions for some common phrases we have (and we actually see some in the books). In my fic I try to add magical variations of phrases to make the world feel more real.

I'd say which shortened version of no-maj would be said would depend on where in the US the wizard is from. I imagine some areas would say "noma" some would say "nomie" and I'm sure there would be other variants. I think it'll just really depend on location.

But most of the idioms and slang I have headcanons for are for the UK.

Some examples I've written into my fic:

Hit him like a bludger - would mean having a strong emotional reaction, like "hit like a ton of bricks"

You look like a dementor’s got you - generally to mean one looks upset or down.

Eating away at his brian like the Fwooper’s song - to mean something is occupying your thoughts, but like, to obsessive levels.

I also like the idea of:

"Confunded" - being used as the word "befuddled"

"Demiguise" - used to the same as calling someone a wallflower, since they become invisible.

"Keep the egg under the toad" - references the process of breeding a basilisk, which is illegal. Means to keep something quite or on the downlow.

"Are you yanking my wand?" - used like saying "are you joking me?" and is an extension of the saying "yanking your wand" that appears in Deathly Hallows.

"Polishing your wand" - is a real thing Cedric and other wizards apparently do, but I am convinced it also refers to jerking off.

"Until the Jobberknoll sings" - kinda like "it isn't over until the fat lady sings", since a Jobberknoll only sings on the moment it dies.

Similarly, saying "Joberknoll song" instead of "Swan song"

"Swearing like a Jarvey" - Like "Swearing like a sailor" since Jarveys are known for being rude and swear a lot.

I have a few more I wrote/thought of, but these are some off the top of my head.

There is also this wiki page that has a list of wizard idioms used in Harry Potter and it's extra semi-canon content (like the video games and pottermore). I don't consider all of this list canon, but there are some I like there, like:

Breed like gnomes (From DH) - meaning breed like rabbits and said by Muriel about the Weasleys

Different kettle of Grindylows (from Hogwarts Legacy) - like saying "different kettle of fish" or "another can of worms"

Dodged a bludger - like "dodged a bullet"

Don't count your��owls before they are delivered (from HBP) - like "don't count your chickens before they hatch"

The fire's lit, but the cauldron's empty (from DH) - like "the lights are on, but nobody's home"

I could eat a Hippogriff (from GoF) - like "I could eat a horse"

I'll take Cadogan's pony (from pottermore) - roughly means to make the best of a bad situation

Knockturn Alley's litter epidemic (from GoF) - means something obvious/boring

Yanking your wand (from DH) - means to joke around.

Anyone who has more of these wizard common phrases headcanons, feel free to add more!

[clubdionysus]

[BAD DECISION #57] Buttons

warnings: the big gallery auction!!! wahooo!!! the entire plot was building to this!!!!!! he is on his knees begging!! rooftop escapades <3, semi-public, oral (f), fingering, phonecall??? during??? jungkook is insane????, readers underwear in jungkooks mouth?? readers underwear in jungkooks... underwear?, a v horny jk lmao

a/n: all currency is in korean won!

wc: 11K

bd total wc: 540k (ongoing)

AO3 | MASTERLIST | MINORS DNI

Gallery days always feel a little more placid than they really should do.

Where you think there should be chaos, there is calm; testament to how meticulously you plan. It's the weeks leading up to the shows that are the real stress. Endless errands are run, and countless logistical issues are checked. You work damn hard. The fact you can breathe normally right now, a few hours before doors open, is proof of it.

"You're a lifesaver," Shinwon, Jina's assistant (and Ryu Gallery's stand-in head coordinator), breathes out a sigh of relief. Having taken over her role since Jina left for maternity leave, he's been finding the adjustment hard. The responsibility of orchestrating shows weighs heavily on his shoulders. He hadn't realised quite how much of the heavy lifting Jina had been doing. "I don't know how you do it."

Shaking your head, you laugh. "Ah, it's easy once you get used to it. Get a few more shows under your belt, and you'll be grand."

It's not like you're vastly more experienced than him, it's just that you've built your way up to this. Started small. Learnt the ropes.

Shinwon had connections that put him on a high rung in the ladder, not accounting for the fact that it's damn well scary up near the top. The fall from grace is far less forgiving. Don't look down is the advice he'd always been given for this very reason.

You've had the luxury (or misfortune) of working your way up.

The levels beneath you don't scare you in the same way they scare Shinwon. If you end up back down there, you know how to climb back up. He ran before he could walk; just a product of his privilege. It's nothing you can really hold against him.

Still, it does fill you with a little bit of pride. You've worked hard, and it's paying off.

"Doors are in an hour and a half," you tell him, passing over a stack of auction guides. "Can you be an angel and put these around the place?"

Everyone in attendance will get one upon their arrival, but you know what people are like once a flute of champagne has passed their lips. Won't hurt to have spares available.

With a nod and smile that says a silent thank you for taking the lead, Shinwon is on his merry way.

Looking around the place, you take a second to appreciate all the work that has gone into this show. In the middle of the main gallery area is an empty easel and Taehyung's supplies. A pole is set up directly opposite it.

The idea is simple: Taehyung will do a live work inspired by a routine performed by Danbi. It's all very romantic, how terribly besotted with her he is. Destined to be a muse, nothing could make you happier for her. It'll also be a good money maker—people will be blind bidding throughout the night. The highest bid at the end of the auction will win the work.

It's one of multiple Kim Taehyung originals on offer tonight. He's been making waves on the art circuit lately—you've even got an international line set up for foreign bidders. The fact he's giving up his time and his art to help Jeongguk out is selfless.

"DB, I wouldn't even have international fans had it not been for you pushing me so hard to expand myself," he had reminded you after you'd thanked him for the hundredth time that afternoon. "It's the least I can do—plus Jeongguk has promised he'll import my favourite wine for the restaurant once it opens, so it's a win for me, too."

Maybe you're being greedy, but you hope the night will be a win for you, too. A lot of hard work has gone into this. With Shinwon's continuous second-guessing of himself, you know that the likelihood of a spot opening up on the Ryu's curation team is high. Think that perhaps this could be the thing that really solidifies your presence; that you can not only draw in punters, but profits, too.

You're taking in the room around you when a hand sneaks around your waist, a familiar presence intruding on your personal space in a way that never really feels like an intrusion at all.

"Hey," you whisper, not needing to turn around as Jeongguk presses a kiss to your hair, squeezing you tightly against him. "You're early."

Having been caught up at Dionysus, Jeongguk had wanted to finally finish off the renovations he had been doing to the outdoor area of the bar. Once that was done, he'd have no more obligations with the bar other than casual shifts.

The tides really are turning. It scares him. Excites him, too.

"Managed to rope Yoongi in," Jeongguk says softly, punctuating his sentences with even more kisses pressed against your hair. Told you once that if you were his girlfriend, he'd kiss you in this room, right in front of everyone. The room is empty, now, but you are his girlfriend, so he'll take his victories when he can. "Got everything sorted in, like half the time."

There's a tenderness to the way he holds onto you. Close is never close enough. It's not like he gives it much considered thought; is just how he naturally gravitates towards you.

"Does it look good?" You ask of the bar. "Happy with it?"

Nodding, Jeongguk smiles. "Unrecognisable. Kinda sad, though."

"Hm?" You question. "How come?"

"I just... I've spent a lot of time in that courtyard," he mumbles. "Always makes me think of you, though."

"Of me?" You chirp with a little confusion, as if you don't also have incredibly poignant memories there that linger like the silage of Jeongguk's aftershave through the hazy smoulder of freshly cracked fireworks.

"Of you," he doubles down. Pulls away a little, turning you to face him, and you sort of wish he hadn't. How you'll ever be able to focus now that he's here is beyond you.

Smart in his dark slacks and leather shoes, Jeongguk's white shirt is buttoned mid-way up his chest. The silver chain he so often sports rests against his skin like it was made to adorn his body; so inherently his that it's unfathomable he's ever without it.

In the corner of his charming smile lays his silver lip ring, sparkling under the gallery lights.

It's his eyes though, framed by loose strands of his lightly waved hair, that always render you a little speechless. No other artwork compares.

"New Years," he simply offers. "It's all I can ever think about when I'm there."

So imperative is the memory of time spent with you, it eradicates any memory of Hayun there. He simply doesn't consider it. Now that the dust has settled, you don't think of it, either.

"Maybe there's a little magic in that courtyard," you offer. "Now that it will be open to punters, maybe they'll have their own version of our new year in it."

A lovely thought, it is, that perhaps there's something spectacular about that little space.

In reality, the magic came from stardust that had settled on your skin like glitter, and wrapped Jeongguk up in your cosmic chaos, too.

And so he just shakes his head. Smiles. His lip ring does the thing. You die a little inside, in the most pathetic of ways. "Impossible."

With a laugh, you swot him away. "I've still got a few things to sort out."

"Need a hand with anything?" He asks, always happy to help out.

Shaking your head, you really don't think there is anything he needs to do. "Tae will be here, in, like, five. See if he needs a hand with anything? I need to go and get changed."

In all black, you're casually dressed but know that the night ahead demands something a bit more spectacular. You've a few options with you, but one particular dress is in the forefront of your mind—just worry that it's a little too much.

The thing is, you're playing multiple roles tonight. You're not simply a curator, or a hostess. You're responsible for making people open their purse strings. Looking the part is important.

"Alright," he nods, dark eyes soft. There's a tenderness to Jungook today; his adoration for you quite literally pouring from his very being. "Go. I'll keep myself busy."

Pulling you in for a quick kiss, he sends you on your way. Regrets not telling you he loves you. Will just do it when he sees you next. Revels in the fact that he can just do that now. Doesn't have to go back and forth between his feelings. Is forward with them, 'cause he's secure.

Being together is just easy. It works. Makes sense in a way that nothing else has ever done before. You could chalk it up to the stars, or to some sort of invisible string that had looped itself around you both with a pretty little bow, but nothing would ever do it justice. Not divine intervention, not destiny nor manifestation.

No romance film has ever portrayed a love like the way he feels for you, and no love song could ever soundtrack the way you laugh together. Both holy and unholy in the same breath, no religion could ever make him worship in the way that he devotes himself to you.

If he were alive in the ancient times, he would have made shrines for you. Temples. Castles. Gilded in gold, everyone who visited would have known the sincerity of how he felt.

Instead, he has to settle with modern conventions of dating. Will give you a bouquet of flowers when he really wishes he could plant you a garden full of wildflowers; beautiful unconventional blooms that everyone will adore.

He half figures that maybe he should just blow caution to the wind. Build you a temple anyway. Fill it with glitter and gacha machines. Anyone who ever visited would leave with just as much admiration for you as he has.

By the time you've changed your outfit and checked yourself over a hundred times, Jeongguk is nowhere to be seen, but the door leading up to the rooftop has been left on the latch, so you take it as a safe bet.

Much like you hadn't turned to face the sound of Jeongguk's footsteps earlier, Jeongguk doesn't turn to face yours. The click of your heels echoes on the flat roof of the ceiling, and he knows that to take in the sight of you would be incredibly dangerous. His eyes remain on the city ahead of him. He knows the direction of home. His. Yours, too. Wonders if one day you'll share a home together.

Slinking your arm around his back, you hold onto his waist as his arm drapes over your shoulders. The city is growing darker as the dusky light of late spring sunset lays a thin curtain of pink over the skyline.

"Watcha doing up here?" You ask, squeezing his waist.

He doesn't reply immediately. Could tell you about his mindless thoughts about building a home with you. Could tell you he feels nervous about the night ahead; about whether or not they'll hit their goal, or if your ex will show up.

"Just wanted some air," he says, conveying everything that he needs to. There's a lot on his mind, and you aren't gonna push him to open up so close to the big event.

"Want me to leave you be for a little bit?" You offer, knowing that he seems to be hung up on his thoughts.

Jeongguk's grip on you doesn't ease, even as he shakes his head. "No."

A comfortable silence settles between you both, neither of you needing to say any words. You understand that Jeongguk shares when he's ready. Know that he's probably thinking of the right way to phrase his worries, or deliberating whether or not he even wants to share them at all.

"What if it doesn't work?" He quietly says as the light-speckled horizon glistens in front of you both.

With a small frown, you press your lips together. Know that he doesn't mean to be pessimistic, but it's natural to have worries.

"There's no reason why it shouldn't. Anything we earn tonight will help, even if we don't reach the total goal, Gguk." Turning your head to the side, you press a kiss to the side of his hand that's draped over your shoulder. Instinct-driven, he strokes against the side of your neck with his thumb. "We've got this."

Grouping yourself in with him, the responsibility is shared. The burden falls not on him, but on the both of you. It's always been this way. From the very inception of your birds, you've been a team.

Jeongguk takes solace in this. Has never really felt alone since that first night in Dionysus. Has been consumed by you ever since.

Pressing a kiss to the side of your head Jeongguk quietly admits, "I think I'm scared, B."

"Of course you are," you say softly. "You really care about this. I'd be surprised if you weren't a little scared."

Pulling back from him, you clasp his hand and begin to lead him away from the edge of the roof.

As he takes you in for the first time, Jeongguk thinks he might just die.

The dress you're wearing is one he knows well. One he picked out. One you've been saving for a special occasion.

You're sparkling in a way you never really have done before. Look like that damn disco ball he always used to tell you that you were, except far prettier than he could ever describe.

The fabric slinks over your body, and finishes a little higher up on your thighs than it really should. Your cleavage—dusted in shimmer—is visible, and Jeongguk might just choke when he remembers you're his girlfriend. It doesn't seem possible. How he managed to catch his very own shooting star is beyond him.

It's a dress that doesn't beg for attention—it commands it.

And if there's one thing Jeongguk is good at, it's following your orders.

Shaking his head, a grin blossoms on his pretty pink lips. In the corner of his mouth, his lip ring flips ever so gently. Light glistens on him in the most gorgeous fashion, your disco ball aura dousing him in eclectic energy that neither of you quite understand. Jeongguk just knows he's better when he's with you.

He encourages you to spin beneath his raised arm, fingers still loosely clasped together. Letting out a soft whistle, Jeongguk is speechless as the dress shines even under a dusky veil of early evening skies.

The fabric drapes over your body in a way that he's almost jealous of. Shorter than he thought it would be, but also far sexier than he'd realised, Jeongguk is certain that death will be the only outcome for him if he has to watch you schmooze other men while wearing it.

"You're gonna be breaking hearts tonight, Byeol," he promises you with eyes just as sparkly as your dress.

"So?" You grin. "There's only one I care about."

He could think of some flirtatious retort. Could joke with you. Could banter in the way that he usually would.

But he knows you'll have other men leering at you tonight.

Wants you to know that none of them compare to him.

Pulling you in for a kiss, hands on either side of your jaw, Jeongguk is so incredibly sincere as he mumbles against your lips, "I love you so much." He doesn't let you reply. Kisses you again. And again. Again, again, again. "So fuckin' lucky."

He's a little careless in how often he tells you of his affection. Doesn't care to hide it, nor pretend like it isn't how he feels. Spent so long denying himself of such simple human pleasures. Revels in it, now.

"Shush," you hush him with a smile. "Love you, too—but do you not think the dress is too much?"

You're a little cautious as you pull away. Feel insecure, even with his constant praising. Know that no one else will be dressed quite like this. It's a black-tie event, and most women will be in cocktail dresses, so it's not like you'll be totally out of place; you'll just be demanding attention.

"Since when do you ever care about being too much?" Jeongguk grins. Knows he's never given you any reason to feel that way. If anything, he'll always encourage you to demand more attention. "And no. You look gorgeous, B."

Rolling your eyes to hide the way you blush, you can't help but get a little smiley at such a compliment. "Yeah, but you have to say that."

"No, I don't," he says firmly. "You think I'd lie to you?"

"No."

"Exactly. So, stop fretting."

Tugging on your hand, Jeongguk encourages you towards the staircase leading back down to the gallery.

He guides you until you reach the very top of the stairs—then groans. Tilts his head back and squeezes your hand. Laughs through his wailing, standing totally still.

He'd been so confident, so keen, and now it seems like he's faltering. Squeezing his hand back, you silently let him know you're with him, no matter what.

"It's just... God, it's all out of my control, isn't it?" He asks when you question his sudden change in demeanour.

"Well, yeah," you reply. "But it doesn't have to be a bad thing, Gguk. Letting go of control is healthy."

He shakes his head. Realises now that his stomach is in absolute bits. The butterflies he got when he looked at you had disguised it for a moment. He much prefers the butterflies. Cast his eyes back to you, and finds himself cured.

Tucking some loose strands of hair behind your ear, Jeongguk is ever so gentle. Isn't looking in your eyes as such, just at your face. At his hands. At how perfectly poised you are for him, like his very own star suspended in the cosmos for him.

"Hey," you say quietly, the silence between you not uncomfortable but indicative of the fact that Jeongguk isn't entirely at ease.

"Hi," he whispers back.

Edging away from him, but keeping your hands clasped, you get your back up against the wall. Pull him close.

Brows furrowed, there's a haze of confusion haloing around him. He's curious about what you're doing, but trusts you in such a way that requires no clarification.

As you lift your wrist above your head and delicately cross them over, you keep your eyes on his. Whisper, "Take back control."

The way that Jeongguk's large hand wraps around your wrists and keeps them pinned above your head is innate; as if he was put on the early to catch a star.

His hips press against your tummy as his nose nudges down to stroke against yours.

"Yeah?"

Nodding, you let your lips brush against his. "Yeah."

The weight of his hips traps you in place, your body naturally succumbing to what feels right. His aftershave seems stronger, grip tighter. Everything about him is amplified, yet it doesn't come close to the chorus your heart is just dying to cry; declarations of love wrapped up in the sweetest of melodies.

A whisper would be enough. He's the only one who needs to know.

The pressure of his piercing against your lips as he presses down into a kiss always sends you a little bit insane. Today is no exception.

His tongue swipes against your bottom lip, and you give him the access he so desperately craves. Whimper into the sensation of being with him. Reciprocate his hard kisses with your soft lips.

Once upon a time, when the tigers still smoked, this was forbidden; folklore of your former selves. Funny, how you know a love like this will become the stuff of legends. Eternal. Written in the stars to be marvelled upon by mature astronomers for decades to come.

No one will know who put the constellation of you in the sky. They'll study your shine for years, yet won't be able to fathom that you were willed to be that way by a mere mortal man; loved so purely that your legacy will remain in the cosmos forever. It's a beautifully foolish idea. Whimsical Impossible. Implausible, even. But with him? Somehow it feels feasible.

Though his kisses have strength behind them, Jeongguk's tongue is gentle as it strokes against yours. A mess of lips, and meeting of tongues, neither of you care to keep quiet. No one's gonna find you up here. This is a space in time reserved for you and Jeongguk alone. The rest of the world can wait a moment longer.

You'll retrograde, and unlike Saturn or Pluto, it'll be better for everyone—'cause you'll also inevitably go direct again, and it'll be so much more fruitful if Jeongguk's mind is at ease.

You do, however, regret giving him leverage, 'cause all you want is your hands in his hair. The hand of his that isn't keeping you secure squeezes at your waist, and you're reminded of just how much you like giving up control to him.

Curved into a smile, Jeongguk's lips leave yours far quicker than you hoped they would. With a casual shake of his head, he decides that he's ready for the orbit to continue. Doesn't mind if he gets a little dizzy in the process.

"C'mon, B," he says as he positions you in front of his body, and encourages you down the stairs. "Save it for later. Best behaviour tonight."

You whine a little, regretfully far too turned on than you really should be at a time like this.

Still, you accept his encouragement down the stairs, and make sure your fingers are intertwined with his as you walk on down to the exhibition hall.

"Oh, I can pop this in the cloakroom for you," you chirp without much thought when you notice his bag tossed down by the podium at which you'll be conducting the auction later on that evening. Black leather, you recognise it from your time spent in his room. It's usually tucked beneath his desk.

"Actually," he interjects. "There's something I wanna talk to you about—we don't have to do it, but I kinda just had a passing thought, and maybe it could be helpful—"

He begins to ramble, but it's cut off by your laugh. "Just tell me."

A little bashful, and somewhat nervous, Jeongguk reaches for his bag. The zip scrapes open, and he retrieves a small box from a nearby printing shop. "Now they're nothing fancy, and I just kinda mocked them up because I wasn't sure if we—"

"Gguk," you laugh. "You're rambling. Tell me."

"Sorry," he grins, passing you over the box, figuring that he may as well just show you his idea.

Lifting open the box, you're greeted with the familiar scent of fresh ink. It's always been one that you've loved: newspapers, books, magazines. There's a nostalgia to it. Inside sit a wedge of business cards—except when you pull them out, you realise they're something different entirely.

"So what I'm thinking," he begins as you study one of the cards. "Is that people can buy these cards, right—" he points to an empty space on the back of the card "—and however much they spend is written on here. When the restaurant opens, it can be redeemed. So, like, put in 50,000 now, and then in like six months' time, if they come for a meal, we comp through however much is on their token. Like a gift card, or a voucher, or I dunno, even a bar tab. Just to build a little extra capital up and also give them something tangible in return. Build brand loyalty."

"This is smart," you tell him with a smile.

"It's just something we discussed at uni once," he says a little sheepishly. "Some festival did it to raise funds for booking acts. I just figured it wouldn't hurt to try?"

"It wouldn't hurt at all," you tell him, wanting him to know that his ideas are just as valid and worthwhile as yours. Feel guilty for not just including him right from the start. "We could set up a stand near the cloakroom? There's space for it, and it'll mean everyone will pass it."

"Yeah?" He says, a little unsure of himself.

"Yeah, Gguk," you encourage. Stand on your tiptoes and give him a gentle kiss before pressing the box to his chest. "Go. Tae is near the cloakroom. You guys have full control. Set it up how you like."

"Are you—"

"I'm sure," you promise. "Go. I'll see you in a bit."

With a silent nod but a smile so bright it's practically blinding you, Jeongguk walks backwards for a few steps. Doesn't want to take his eyes off you. Pursing your lips, suppressing a grin, you blow a kiss in his direction, which is enough to satisfy him. He blows one back, then turns to head down the hallway.

Sighing so deeply the tides could change, you look around the room. Mutter to yourself, "Let's do this."

You always think you're not quite right for the glitz and glam that comes with the artistic industry, but come show nights, it's a surprise just how at home you feel.

Surrounded by art, and people who appreciate it, you're able to discuss your passion at length. As much as you love the art cafe, there's so much you can say about paint strokes with couples who come in for a fun date activity.

Watching on from across the room, Jeongguk thinks you shine brightest like this.

His view of you is obscured by the easel Taehyung is working at, and the routine Danbi is performing on the pole. Though Taehyung has seen Danbi like this a hundred times over—how her muscles work and flex beneath her skin, and the concentration yet serenity on her pretty face—he's never painted it so explicitly.

The stroke of his brush comes with ease, just like Danbi's movements appear to be. They really do make the perfect match, Jeongguk thinks.

When he glances back over to you, noticing how you're holding the little charm on your necklace, he wonders what people think when they see you together. It doesn't matter, really, but he hopes you're the kind of couple people grow envious of. He knows damn well he'd be jealous of himself.

And as the space beside him fills with a looming presence he would rather not acknowledge, he knows he's not the only one.

"Cleans up well, doesn't she?" A voice that Jeongguk had forgotten was quite so arrogant says.

Swigging back his drink, Jeongguk deliberates whether or not a reply is owed. If he felt like the dig was about him, he'd ignore it, but you're the one being spoken about. Of course he's not gonna just let it slide. Will be a petulant little brat about it.

"Seokmin," Jeongguk grimaces, deliberately getting his name wrong again.

"We both know you know my name," Seokjin smirks, adjusting his posture and broadening his shoulders. Lowering his voice, there's something sinister about the way he mutters, "No doubt you hear it in her sheets from time to time."

It's sort of funny how you considered roundhousing Hayun with a chair the last time you saw her. Jeongguk is thinking of doing something very similar to Seokjin.

"I know your name 'cause you're a clingy ex who won't stop sending her flowers," Jeongguk scoffs. Considers being vulgar. Mentioning the way you whine his name. Respects you too much to do it, though. All he really wants is for Seokjin to leave, so he lays it straight. "The auction tonight is for my start-up, so don't waste your time. I'm sure you won't want to lose your money to me, and frankly, I don't want it."

"You're right," Seokjin nods. "I'd rather not give you a penny, but I'm particularly interested in one of the listings."

Opening up the pamphlet, Seokjin pretends to skim through it until he finds the listing. Doesn't need to. Already knows which number it is. It's also right at the front. He's making a big old song and dance out of things just to piss Jeongguk off.

"Ah!" He continues. "That's it. Number one."

Jeongguk grates his jaw. Keeps his eyes on you. Is hard in his gaze. He doesn't want you to look his way and see the state of him, but he knows that his breathing exercises only calm him so much. You're the one thing that really grounds him.

" Experience for two at Pot & Paint Art Cafe ," Seokjin reads aloud. " Expertly hosted, it says, but we both know who'll be looking after the winners, don't we? Would be a waste for me not to win it."

He's deliberately trying to push Jeongguk's buttons. A few months ago, it might have worked.

But a lot can change in a few months.

"I might not bother taking anyone with me," Seokjin continues like the vapid narcissist he is. "Just me and her. I always hated that cafe, but there's that chair of hers—the one in the corner, her favourite..." he trails off. Smirks. "Yeah, I hate that cafe, but it can be fun when it's just me and her."

Jeongguk knows he should be angry. Knows that the 'correct' response to Seokjin's baiting should be red-hot fury.

But instead, Jeongguk just laughs .

It's not sarcastic. Not cruel.

If anything, it's hearty. Loud. Makes his head lean back, shoulders lifting to his ears. Has you glancing in his direction, smiling too—until you notice who is standing directly beside him.

Brows raised, you recognise the expression on Seokjin's face well. Knows that he'll be scoffing soon. Rolling his eyes, maybe. A year ago, you might have cared.

Now, all you can do is find your eyes dragged back home to a smile you never want to lose.

"Ah, that's funny, man," Jeongguk says with a shake of his head. "No, really. That's, like, the most deluded shit I've heard in weeks, and trust me, you should meet my ex. You'd get on like a house on fire. 'It can be fun,' " he imitates Seokjin, voice all goofy. Laughs, again. "Oh, fuckin' hell, man. That really tickled me. Good joke."

If he were to psychoanalyse himself—which he won't, not now that he has a therapist to do it for him—he'd probably realise he's developed a nervous response to stressful situations. Did the same exact thing when you told him you wanted to end things back in the Dionysus cloakroom. Had laughed and told you no.

The idea of Seokjin being with you, especially in the art cafe, makes Jeongguk feel sick, quite frankly.

And so, even if he seems unphased, Jeongguk has no qualms in asserting his dominance. Sure, he may be younger. Might not have his shit together.

But you love him in spite of it all.

He doesn't need Seokjin's approval.

"Look, I dunno why you insist on chasing around a girl half your age," Jeongguk says with a flippant arrogancy that can only ever be charming from a man like him. Though you're only a couple of years younger than Seokjin, Jeongguk reckons it's his youth that Seokjin is really envious of, so he plays into it. After all, it's the only thing money can't buy. "But I've been doing exactly what I said I would back at the tennis club: putting that youth of mine to good use. She's not interested, mate. So, if you don't mind, old man, stop looking at my girlfriend like she's yours."

Patting Seokjin's arm just to ensure that salt is rubbed into the wound, Jeongguk smiles as he walks away. Doesn't care to play nice. In fact, he doesn't care to play at all. Whatever game Seokjin wants to play, he can play alone.

Jeongguk slinks through the crowd that's watching Taehyung paint, and heads straight for you. He places his hand on the small of your back, joining your conversation. His spare hand reaches out to shake hands with the associate you've been talking with.

You're all smiles as you introduce him.

" Ah, the man of the hour graces us with his presence," You beam. "This is Jeon Jeongguk, the founder of the restaurant we're raising funds for this evening."

"Unique," the older gentleman you've been speaking with says as he shakes Jeongguk's hand. "It's an innovative way to get investments. I'm impressed."

Knowing him as well as you do, you're sure Jeongguk will throw it all back to you, so you don't let him.

"He's a sure bet," you assure the gentleman. "Hands of Midas, this one."

"Oh, I'm sure," he kindly agrees before you excuse yourself and leave Jeongguk to chat with potential investors.

As you depart, you subtly rub his back just to give him a little boost. He doesn't need you hanging on his side for the whole night. Will do well to speak with the art snobs independently of you.

After all, he's building a brand and needs to be the face of it—not just known as the curator's partner.

"Doing well, isn't he?" Seoyeon purrs, passing you a champagne flute as you join her by the bar.

Taking a sip, your eyes are locked in on him. He's laughing, now. Cracking jokes. Is so charismatic it's hard to forget how shy he can be.

"Incredibly well," you fondly praise. "He never would have done this a year ago."

"And who do we have to thank for that?" Seoyeon giggles, nudging against your shoulder. Her hair is loose, tiny plaits scattered throughout. Yoongi is across the room with the boys, a single plait secured in his hair, too. They really are a perfect couple.

It's interesting that you'd think that of them.

You, a cosmic entity; Jeongguk, stars for eyes. You're just as perfectly aligned as the Mins are.

"He'd have done it eventually," you smile. "Just needed a little push."

"Well, aren't we glad you were there to do it," she kindly says, then begins to ask about some of the auction listings.

You're thankful for the excuse to ramble on about it.

In a way, you're practising your pitches. Are a little bit nervous about standing on stage in front of everyone there and beginning an auction. While you won't be the one actually calling the bids in—you've hired someone from the local auction house for that—you still have the duty to present all of the items first.

It doesn't take long for Jeongguk to excuse himself from his conversation. Had gone in search of you earlier, but like the shooting star you are, you'd evaded him. Seoyeon squeezes your arms as he approaches you and makes her own excuses. Wants to give you this moment with Jeongguk alone.

His eyebrows raise upon seeing this, but a smile also graces his lips.

"Am I really such terrible company?" He playfully asks you, reaching for your hand. He lifts your knuckles to his lips and presses a sweet kiss against them, knowing better than to be so outwardly affectionate with you in a professional environment.

"Oh, the worst," you nod. "I only stick around for the money."

"A gold digger and a man without a penny to his name," he assesses, standing shoulder to shoulder beside you. Both looking out to the sea of people in front of you, it feels like you're on dry land when you're together. "What a pair we make."

"The stuff of Hollywood films," you hum in agreement. "Next time we're at a motel, that can be our cover story."

"Next time?" He smirks. "Thought you said it'd never happen again?"

"Well, beggars can't be choosers now, can they?" You sigh as if you're really bothered by the lack of financial stability your relationship offers you. Maybe it's naive, but you really think it's inconsequential. You'll be stable one day; for now, you're stable in so many other ways. "If it's the only way we can afford to hook up, then I guess we'll have to."

"And they say romance is dead."

Glancing up to him, you're amazed at how flippantly you speak of such matters, now.

"Let's not pretend like it's the worst place we've ever—"

"Byeol," he quietly scolds you, but he just can't help that damn smile of his. "We're here for business, not pleasure."

"Tell that to Jeongguk up by the roof a couple of hours ago."

"Still thinking about it?"

Your subtle grimace is hidden well. "Regretfully."

He smiles when he hears this. Is vindicated by your relentless desire to be with him. You're so flippantly vulgar when it comes to your desperation, and he finds it far hotter than he thinks he should, as if human attraction has never known such a karmic pull before.

Gaze hard on the crowd of people all mingling and chatting, he wonders how long it would take for anyone to notice you weren't around. If anyone would look for you, and upon failure, would look for him too. How easy it would be to work out exactly what's going on.

And yet he can't help but ask, "How long until the auction?"

"About twenty minutes," you guess. Haven't checked the time in a little while, but pride yourself in your judgement of time passing. Still, you reach for his wrist. Check his watch. Smile. "Yeah, twenty minutes."

Jeongguk weighs up his pros and cons. Tries to give it considered thought. Clasps your fingers with his, then says, "I need your opinion on something."

The way you let him guide you out of the room is damn near comical. Anything he asks of you, he'll likely get. Plus, you like that he values your opinion. Makes you feel seen. Heard. A lot of the things he does make you feel that way.

He's dastardly confident as he leads you down the hallway and back to the stairwell that takes you up to the rooftop.

"Something out here," he tells you over his shoulder.

You're not really sure why you don't protest. Don't tell him that now isn't the time to be going up there; that you're expected to be in the main hall very shortly.

His pied-piper grip on your attention has you following him regardless. Off you trot, up and away.

The inky-black skies have already spilt into the horizon. Lights spread through the valleys that surround the city, like whispers spreading far and wide. Rumours. Much the ones you could envisage trickling through the city's artistic elite if they noticed the Ryu's darling and some rogue tattooed charmer galavanting away together.

In all likelihood, no one would care.

It's just fun to pretend like you and Jeongguk are something worthy of the story books; as if the New York Times would have to cease its chart, for all the tales would be of Jeongguk and his star. Your adventures, far and wide. Paperback, hardback, special editions. Devoured by masses, adored by those who just got it.

But you're none of those silly little stories you dream up together. You're not wanted by Interpol, you're not star-crossed lovers, and you're definitely super spies, either.

You're just a guy and a girl.

Yet when Jeongguk has you alone on that roof, back pressed to the far wall, and his kisses feel as cosmic as they do, it'd be easy to pretend you're so much more.

"My opinion?" You mumble through the kisses you really don't want to stop. Whine a little as his strong hands begin to roam your body, squeezing and stroking wherever they can with little regard for the dress you're wearing. He might've been the one who bought it, but he wants it off just as much as he wanted to see it on. "You wanted it? On what?"

"On how quickly you think it'll take for me to make you cum."

"Gguk," you groan, as if your hands aren't working your way down his shirt. Miraculously, through no fault of your own, his buttons end up threaded through their loops. Undone. Oh, no . His chest is far more exposed than it was. Totally has nothing to do with you, or the fact that you like his chest just as much as he likes yours. "We can't."

"We shouldn't ," he corrects you. "But we most definitely can ."

As you laugh, he pulls back slightly. Tucks hair behind your ear. Gets his eyes on yours, and it's only then that you realise he must have planets in them now. Entire solarsystems. They just shine in a way that can't be earthly.

"You know how pretty you are after we fuck? You literally glow, Byeol," he praises. "I reckon people will want to bid more if they see you like that."

"What?" You laugh, bashful at the idea of people seeing you in a way that's reserved for Jeongguk and Jeongguk alone. "Fucked out?"

"Nah," he smirks into your lips, pressing down into a soft kiss. "Just pretty—but I can make a real mess of you if you'd rather? Ruin you, if you want."

"They'd never let me back here," you assure him, pushing him away, and then pulling him right back.

"Fine," he smiles, his body moving entirely up to your will. If you want him away, he'll go. Will respect your wishes. Be the gentleman you know him to be. But you haven't told him 'no', yet. Chess remains unspoken.

As his lips find a new home in the crook of your neck, chess is the last thing on your mind.

"I can play nice, too," he mumbles against your throat, wet kisses being pressed to your skin. He's obsessed with the scent of your hair, nose stroking against you. Groaning as he does so, Jeongguk doesn't care to hide the way you make him come undone. He's weak, and he wants you to know it. You gave him control earlier, but he doesn't want it. "I can be a good boy for you, hmm? Would you like that baby? Like me on my knees for you?"

Tall, broad, Cruel Summer-coded Devil; Jeongguk on his knees for you is the last thing you need at this moment.

Yet somehow it feels like it's the only thing you need, now that the thoughts have been planted.

They'll blossom in your head. Ideas of him, and his catastrophic eyes looking up at you. The feeling of him taking ownership of your sex with his mouth, and your heart with his eyes. Like vines of ivy, you'll become ensnared by him. Will realise too late that it's poisonous—and by that point, what else is there to do but succumb to a little death?

"You're literally gonna make me cum in like 5 seconds if you keep that up," you tell him. "I might die."

He doesn't mention it, but he does smile when he realises you've started talking like him. So integrated into one another's lives, it's getting harder to remember a time when you weren't utterly besotted.

"Keep what up?" He plays dumb, just as bratty as you so often like to be. You're not the only one mirroring. He's just as influenced by you as you are by him. "I just wanna make you feel good."

"You do," you softly moan into his touch. His lips are intentional against your throat, but it worries you. "No hickies, Gguk."

He nods, sucking just a little longer than he should but not hard enough to leave a mark.

Though he apologises, he's boyish and brass when his vulgar lips beg, "Just let me suck on your clit, instead. Please . I'll be so quick. I promise."

"Gguk," you whine, as if your body isn't one or two terms of endearment away from folding.

"I'll make you cum so hard," he whispers against your lips. "All on my tongue. You want that, huh, baby? You want the taste of your gorgeous cunt in my mouth?"

"I don't think you'll be quick enough," you reply between frantic kisses. This is a blatant lie, and you both know it.

"Let me try," he pleads.

Pressing kisses along your jaw, Jeongguk skillfully works his lips down your throat, chest, valley of your breasts. Is interrupted by your dress, and takes it as an invitation to skip it entirely. Crouches. Holds your hips as he kisses up your thighs.

The rooftop isn't private. Anyone could walk up at any second. The danger of it all excites you just as much as it terrifies you.

"I'm on my knees," he states the obvious, his hands creeping up the front of your dress. "I'm begging ."

Pathetically, all you can do is gasp a little as he pushes the fabric up. Curses when he's greeted with your lace-covered cunt. Lets his nose nudge up against you, just 'cause he can think of few scents he loves more. He knows it's the pheromones that make him this insatiable, but he doesn't give a fuck. Would wear you like a perfume if he could.

"Five seconds," you compromise. "That's all you get. Just a taste."

He doesn't argue against it. Knows you well enough now to know that timing just isn't your thing.

Instead, he pulls back. Hooks a finger beneath the fabric of your underwear, and tugs it to the side. Almost fuckin' whimpers as he watches strings of slick arousal cling to the lace.

He spreads your pussy apart with his fingers, and swears he might die at the sight of it.

Desperately wet, Jeongguk loves just how keenly your body responds to him.

If you had control over it, you'd hold back. Wouldn't give him such satisfaction—but you can't, and so you both have to live with the knowledge that sex will only ever be this good with him. You'll just have to stay with him forever, or something dumb like that, you guess. Shame.

"Gonna waste your time," you warn him.

"Just looking," he mumbles while his nose strokes up against your clit. "Doesn't count yet."

"You're bending the rules, Koo," you gently tell him. "Behave yourself, or you won't get anything."

"No," he whines. "Please. I just... God, B. You don't understand how fuckin' hot you are." And then he smiles. Shakes his head. Presses a single pouty kiss just above your clit. "My pretty girlfriend and her gorgeous cunt. Fuck. I love you."

Part of you thinks he's just saying it to buy time.

But you know it to be true, too.

"I love you, too," you whisper, stroking your fingers through his hair.

His tongue gently traces against your clit. Once. Twice.

"Doesn't count," he says again, voice hushed against you, the warmth of his breath cooling his spit.

"Five," you begin to count down.

Afraid he'll miss his chance, Jeongguk wraps his lips around your clit, latching onto you with such incredible force it's impossible to keep counting. Immediately, he just sort of takes your breath away. It'd be romantic if it weren't so sordid. Hands tangled in his hair, you keep him pressed to your pussy.

"Oh, fuck," you moan. "Feels so good."

But Jeongguk is dressed like a gentleman tonight. Will follow your rules, just like he always has done.

He pulls away before you've even really begun to acknowledge the sensation of pleasure he commands through your body. He's catching a quick breath, too. Looks up at you, eyes devastatingly doe-like.

"More?" he poutily asks.

And you just can't stop yourself from nodding, fingers still raked in his hair. "Yeah, baby. More, please."

He doesn't need telling twice. His lips press kisses against you, tongue stroking. With long, flat licks, and sharp, direct flicks, he varies his rhythm like there's music in his veins. Is an expert at the melody of you. Can play along without any sheet music. Just needs you as his conductor.

And conduct, you do.

"Fingers," you whimper after no more than a minute.

"Hm?" Hums against you as if he isn't desperate to do more. He just wants you begging, now.

"Finger me, Gguk."

Again, he doesn't need telling twice. His long middle finger pushes into you, curving instantly. He knows your body well enough now to know all your weak points. When your legs do a little involuntary shake, he knows he's found what he's after.

"So fuckin' good," you whine, head tipping back, one of your hands reaching back to hold onto the wall for support. "Keep going."

A second thick finger is pushed into you with ease. So desperate for him, you know that you'd probably even be fine with three. It'd be no match for his cock, and how perfectly it stretches you out. The thought of it alone is enough to make you moan.

"Oh, god," you breathe out as the sensation of building pleasure washes over you. You're so much closer than you really ought to be. Just a natural consequence of the honour you think comes with fucking a man like him; knowing that you make an earth-bound deity like him weak, too.

"Hold that thought, baby," Jeongguk whispers, pulling away from you, fingers still stroking up against your g-spot. His lips are covered in your arousal, the sheen of moonlight making him look ever so pretty. "Phone."

Your eyes are locked on him, even as he takes his phone from his pocket to check the caller ID.

And to your fucking shock, he answers it.

It's more than that, though.

He answers with a smirk. Looks up at you as he says hello—and then silently lets his tongue slowly drag up your cunt.

"B?" He questions down the phone a second later, the pace of his fingers increasing. "She's just walking off some nerves, I think."

And his tongue is back on you, phone held an inch or so away until he hears the person on the other end finish. You're so scared that the stop-start nature of his teasing will push you over the edge. It's the textbook play to make you cum just that little bit harder, just how Jeongguk really loves it. He's already had a few glasses of champagne tonight, but he'd rather have yours any day of the week. There's just no way in hell you can let it happen, not when he needs to go and face people afterwards.

"The rooftop, yeah," he says, smirking as you widen your eyes. "Nah, you don't need to grab her, I'll go."

He mouths at you to shush, his pretty smile shining just for you.

"Yeah, I'm sure," he says down the phone. "Typical isn't it? Climax of the evening, and she's nowhere to be found. Don't worry, though; I've got this, Hobbes. Yeah, yeah, I'll make her come. No worries."

When he hangs up, his lopsided grins doesn't even think to utter an apology.

"Hear that?" he teases. "Gotta hurry up and cum, baby."

"He's gonna disown us both," you tell him, but Jeongguk just shakes his head. Nudges his nose up against you. Presses a kiss to your clit, then gets back to business.

It's like an old dance at this point. Jeongguk knows all the steps. He could make you cum so easily if he wanted to—and now, he does want to. He's had his fun. Knows that no matter how hard you cum, you won't be fully satisfied until he fucks you.

"Cum before he starts looking for you, and he'll never know," Jeongguk shrugs his shoulders, then begins to rub small circles on your clit with his other hand. It's a combination he knows has lethal outcomes.

Your legs are frail and limp as he begins his relentless pursuit of your pleasure.

"That's it, babe," he husk. "Cum for for me."

Like the collapse of a damn, the sensation of Jeongguk's fingers spills you over the edge. The trembling of your whines and the shaking of your legs give it away. Your grip on his hair is painfully tight, but he kinda likes it.

"Attagirl, baby," he praises, then wraps his lips around your clit for the final few pulses of your orgasm. Moans against you. Nods. Pulls away from you slowly. Laughs. Rests his head against your thigh. "Just cancel the auction. Let me fuck you, instead."

Laughing now, too, you shake your head and encourage him to his feet. He's about to nudge his nose against yours when you stop him in his tracks.

"Uh-uh," you shake your head. "I've gotta go schmooze people."

"But I just made you cum."

"And you know I love you for it," you promise. Hold his chin so he can't sneakily divert his lips as you press a kiss to his cheek, then whisper in his ear, "But you also know I'm gonna return the favour later, Gguk."

"I'll die before you get the chance," he whines.

You sigh with a smile. Glance behind yourself to check that the coast is clear, before you do something you would have never dreamt of doing with anyone else.

Hooking your thumbs beneath either side of your underwear, you quickly shimmy them down your legs, until they're by your ankles. Stepping out of them before they reach the floor, your elevated heels act as a saving grace, you're sin dressed up in a pretty dress.

Jeongguk watches on, wholly bemused. Licks his lips when you stand directly in front of him, then silently lets them part as you press the soaked fabric against them.

He welcomes your underwear in his mouth. Sucks the taste of you from lace, his heavenly eyes closed, lashes splaying on his cheeks.

Without a word, you pull them back. Begin to fiddle with his belt buckle and find it incredibly easy to loosen. Unbuttoning his trousers, you're well aware that you're pressed for time, but you don't care. Nothing else matters.

He groans as your hand dips down into his boxers. He's so hard. It's gonna be damn hard for him to hide it. Might have to send you back down alone.

But when you start jerking him off with the same hand that's holding your soaked underwear? The wet fabric pressed against him as your other hand grips his hair to keep his eyes on yours?

God, he thinks he'll die .

But then you've got that look on your face—the one that Jeongguk know means no good. Wrapping the fabric around his thick shaft, you pump his cock once more. Twice, because you just can't help it. Readjust him. Get his desperate desire for you obscured. He's in boxer briefs, which helps. They're tight, and if you angle things just right, he can hide the fact he's two damn strokes away from coming undone.

You do his trousers back up. Belt, too.

"I'm literally gonna cum in my pants," Jeongguk groans, all pathetic and stroppy.

"No, you won't," you grin, though you'd kind of love it if he did. Turning to walk away, you call after him. "C'mon! I need to run to the bathroom, quickly. Can you tell Hobes I'll just be a minute?"

Jeongguk is right behind you. Lifts your dress as you walk ahead of him just to squeeze your ass cheeks. You let him. Just sort of ignore it, because it's not exactly an unusual occurrence with him.

Part of you is worried about this whole no-underwear thing. It's a short dress; all it'll take is a little stumble to flash an entire room of people you're trying to impress.

It's painfully clear that your desperate need to fuck Jeongguk at all times will surely one day be detrimental, but for now, you'll hope for the best.

"I'm so fuckin' hard I'm gonna die," he tells you again. Is a little sterner. A little more convicted. Has fully convinced himself that mortality lingers on undelivered orgasms. "I can't talk to Hoseok like this. What if he thinks it's for him ?"

"He'd probably be up for it as long as Joon could join in, too," you tease him, then add, "But it'll probably help if you stop touching my ass."

"Okay, firstly, what's yours is mine. And secondly, please don't put that mental image of Joon into my head—"

"Kinda hot."

"Byeol."

"What? He's got great thighs."

"Keep this up, and I'll bend you over mine," he threatens, as if the prospect of getting spanked doesn't excite you even more.

"Oh, nooo," you feign distress. "Please, don't do that! I hate it when you do that!"

Laughing, Jeongguk does give you a light spank just before you start heading down the stairs. "You're the fuckin' worst."

"S'why you're with me," you beam. Even if Jeongguk can't see your smile, he can hear it. Knows how radiant you must look right now.

Gently brushing the front of his trousers, Jeongguk checks to make sure his cock is as disguised as it can be. Hopes it just looks like he's packing—of which he most definitely is, but that's beyond the point.

Once you reach the bottom of the stairs, Jeongguk squeezes your side just before you head in opposite directions. It's a silent comfort. He touches you so often, not because he likes to be a nuisance, but because it eases that part of his brain that really is a nuisance.

Picking up one of the complimentary mints by the front desk, Jeongguk bites into it as he heads towards the main gallery hall. He knows that as much as your taste is his favourite thing in the world, it's not exactly appropriate for such an occasion.

Then again, nor is having your wet thong wrapped around his cock, but that's neither here nor there.

"Find her?" Hoseok asks as Jeongguk tries to slip into the room unnoticed.

Nodding, Jeongguk also reaches for a champagne flute on the tray being carried by a server.

"Yeah, she's just checking herself over in the bathroom."

"Okay, good. Oh, also—" Hoseok reaches over to tweak one of the buttons on Jeongguk's shirt. Looking down, Jeongguk realises he'd left far more undone than he thought he had. "—If you're gonna tell white lies about what you're up to, don't get caught red-handed. Or glitter-handed, would be better, I suppose. Maybe you should have gone to the bathroom, too. Checked yourself over, Cassanova."

Scrunching his face up, Jeongguk doesn't have time to respond before Hoseok swans off again. It's far better than his boner being noticeable, but it's embarrassing nonetheless. Better Hoseok notice rather than anyone else, though.

One day, the pair of you will be able to control yourselves, but it is not today. Likely won't be tomorrow, or the next day, either. In fact, it probably won't ever happen, but you can pretend like dignity will one day be a trait in your repertoire.

Still, when Jeongguk notices you smiling and chatting with important people in suits a few minutes later, he can't help but think you look incredibly dignified.

Then he remembers you're without your underwear. Considers dying again.

Through the speaker system, Shinwon's voice calls the room to attention. Unbeknownst to you both, it's perhaps the third time he's given a small indication for people to gather in the main hall.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, the skills auction is about to commence. Please join us in the main Gallery Hall. Auction directories are available at the back of the room."

The chatter quietens down, and it's up to you to lead command of the room.

There's no stage, thank god, just a podium for the auctioneer to stand behind. The underwear situation would have been dreadful otherwise.

Jeongguk watches on with unbridled adoration as you work the room. It's one thing to see you command a conversation amongst friends. Another, amongst professionals. But this? All eyes on you? Everyone sparkling in your presence? It's an honour.

He wonders how many people will begin to adorn themselves in glitter as a result of you. Wonders if you realise just how captivating you truly are.

The audience laughs when you're a little bit awkward in the most charming of ways, and they cheer when you reveal the first ticket item to be one you personally submitted.

"Now, I may be slightly biased, but even though this is the first item of the night, I think it's just as valuable as some of our later items. Someone always has to go first, though. It's an honour to kick off the auction with a private evening for two at Pot & Paint—arguably the city's finest artist establishment," you joke, knowing damn well that you've got nothing on the Ryu. The audience laughs with you, which does settle your nerves a little bit.

"Hosted by yours truly," you continue, "It's the perfect opportunity to unwind and indulge in your own artistic talents. Included are all the materials you'll need, four hours reserved off just for you, and complimentary drinks throughout the evening. Hosted by yours truly, I'll be there to assist throughout the night. Perfect for a date, for friends, or family. This is a money can't buy experience, as we don't typically do private rentals. There's a reserve of 50 thousand won."

Pitch complete, you pass control over the auctioneer to kick off the bidding process. Taking a deep breath, you'd been able to hide just how nervous you were while you were speaking. Your body language is far more reserved now that you're no longer performing.

Glancing up, you find Jeongguk in the crowd, and it all just sort of melts away.

He pouts his lips together. Presses a kiss into the air. Smiles, when you smile, too. Nods. You did good, B.

The auction starts with ease. Ten thousand, then twenty. Before you know it, the fifty thousand threshold has been hit. Your first real victory of the night. Sure, fifty thousand won won't buy you much—some cutlery, or maybe just a couple of pizzas for the team after a hard day of working at the restaurant—but it's a start.

You haven't been keeping an eye on Jeongguk's bar tab idea, wanting to leave that to him, so you really have no idea how things stand at the moment.

The bidders are random audience members. There's not much buzz around this listing—after all, people are here for the big items like Yoogni's custom furniture and Taehyung's art—but it's a nice way to ease the crowd into bidding.

Your eyes follow the raised papers when new bids are called.

But then eighty thousand won is called, and the elation that's been simmering in your veins freezes over.

Standing towards the back of the crowd, hand raised, smirk present, is Kim Seokjin. Every bit the asshole he always has been. Has that look upon his face you always used to hate; I win.

"Ninety thousand," calls a far more comforting voice from across the room, and just like that, your blood feels warm once more.

Gaze hard; Jeongguk is locked in on you. There are stars in the space between you, but it feels like a black hole is about to swallow you right up.

"A hundred thousand." Seokjin's voice booms through the room, but it isn't enough to shatter the vibrational pull Jeongguk has on you.

"A hundred and fifty thousand," Jeongguk calls out, raising his hand. Doesn't care how ridiculous the price might be. What he's doing isn't making a bet. Not really. He's making a promise.

I've got you, baby, his slow nod and furrowed brows tell you.

"Two hundred," Seokjin calls without missing a beat.

Jeongguk glances across to Seokjin. Glares. Briefly considers throwing his champagne flute at Seokjin's head.

Instead, he refocuses on you. Ups his bid. "Two fifty."

"Three hundred."

"Three fifty."

Anyone who doesn't know you would most likely think nothing much of the unfolding bidding battle. It's an auction. It's what happens. They just really love painting, apparently. The best—or should that be the wealthiest—man always wins.

The issue is that Jeongguk can bid all he likes, but you both know he doesn't have the money to pay for it. The only person he'll be cheating is himself when the night's earnings are tallied, and he'll have lost out on however much a genuine bid could have been for the private use of the art cafe.

This place is full of art lovers, critics, and collectors. Though it was never a high-ticket item, it was still one that you know you could have made money from.

Everyone can see Jeongguk and Seokjin battling it out. Nobody else is even gonna bother.

Their bids inch up and up and up. You wish you had never mentioned that you'd personally be at the winners' beck and call for the duration of their time spent in the cafe. You know that's what's motivating Seokjin right now.

"Five hundred thousand," he says, hand raised, an arrogant smirk being rightfully ignored by you.

"Six hundred," Jeongguk counters, growing impatient with this stupid fuckin' game of cat and mouse.

And so Seokjin decides to really rub salt in the wounds of Jeongguk's financial instability. He doesn't know much about him, but he knows he's just finished school and is relying on fundraising for his business.

It's cute, Seokjin thinks, that Jeongguk believes he can satisfy a girl like you.

"One million won."

There's silence. A gasp or two.

Until, all rather suddenly, there's a sigh. A cough. A hand raised towards the back of the room, far behind both Jeongguk and Seokjin.

Husky as he speaks, the new bidder draws a stunned silence from the room when he simply says, "One hundred million won."

[modelbus]

This might be more on the angst side… oops? Also, this is like 3k words… There are POV switches!! And this was inspired by an ao3 story with a similar premise but that was with Kaz and Wylan so there’s that.

There is alcohol and suggestiveness in this! Be warned, it’s a bit different than my usual!

Pairing: Kaz Brekker x gn!Reader

Flufftober 4 - It’s All An Act (Spies)

"Sorry, what?" You stare at Kaz, and he stares back evenly.

"It's a simple mission. You don't have to do anything."

"Then why do you need me?"

He sighs, gloved hand tightening and loosening on his crow cane. Without a doubt, he was upset at you for not getting it, but forgive you for being a little startled when he asks you to pretend to date him!

"It'll be too suspicious if I show up alone. All I need you for is pretending to date me. But carry some weapons in case things go... awry."

"You want me to go with you to a party, pretend to date you, and... that's it?"

"That's it."

You stare at him for a few more moments, trying to figure out if he had any other angle. Most times, Kaz Brekker kept his crows in the loop. But there were times when he didn't, and you knew him too well to not try and figure out if it was or wasn't.

Although you were the second newest crow (thanks to Wylan for taking the newest title) you and Kaz actually somewhat got along. You’re certain it's because he values you ability to kill without hesitation. That's what you are to him: his assassin. Your role, your one job, was to kill and to kill efficiently. 

He didn't question why you were able to kill so easy, and you didn't question his aversion to touch and water. You got along, and things were fine.

Or, they were, until you had to go and start noticing stupid things about him. Like the way he looked mid-fight, slamming his cane into someone. Or the way his lips would barely twitch when one of them said something particularly funny. It took you a bit to realize, but when you did you knew you were royally fucked.

Because, of course, you started to develop feelings for Kaz Brekker. Feelings that, as long as you were sane, would stay quite hidden. Which only made this whole job harder.

He wanted you to pretend to date him. It might just be the hardest thing he's asked of you yet, and he doesn't even know it.

"Take the job. Wish I could go to a party." Jesper grumbles, and you glance at the sharp shooter sitting next to you.

"Unfortunately, no one in their sound mind would believe we were dating." Kaz says cooly. "That, and everyone knows your face around here."

You grimace. Your own insurance, coming to bite you in the ass. Most people only saw you face before you killed them. It was easier to sneak around in plain sight that way. Obviously the crows were the exceptions, and maybe a few others out there.

"You're sure nobody else wants to do this?" You try.

"Wylan and Jesper are far too in love for me to take Wylan, Inej is out hunting slavers, and Nina..." He shakes his head. 

"Fine. Whatever. I'll do the stupid job."

You sigh, knowing this job very well might be the death of you. Emotional death, that is. But then again, it was Kaz. Surely he wasn't the type to be a touchy fake date, not with his touch aversion.

"Good. Meet me down here at nine sharp tomorrow night. Dress nice, have concealed weapons."

Kaz walks off, not waiting for you to confirm you understood his directions. You scowl at his back before sighing. 

"This will be a disaster."

"I'm sure it'll be fun!" Jesper exclaims. "It's a party, how bad can it be?"

"I have to fake date Kaz Brekker." You deadpan.

"Yeah, but he wants you for arm candy. To draw the attention away from him. That's the closest to a compliment you'll ever get out of him."

You can't help but sigh again. "We take what we can get with him, don't we?"

-

Kaz is waiting for you outside the Crow Club when you arrive. He isn't dressed any different from his normal, except a pocket watch with a fancier chain than you’re used to. His gaze is level as he gazes at you as you walk towards him.

And you knows you looks good, but that isn't why he's looking at you. You’re in a nice outfit for once, flowing sleeves down to your wrists, and black gloves up to your elbows nearly. The gloves and long sleeves were carefully planned, knowing exactly what role you’d be playing tonight.

"How many knives do you have?" Kaz asks, looking behind you, almost like he's checking to see if you were followed by anyone. 

"Seven." You grin. You may be a pretty distraction tonight, but you’re just as dangerous as you are pretty.

"Good." He nods. Not approval, but close enough. "Let's go."

You walk next to him as they go through the streets of Ketterdam, slowly heading to the more expensive places. The streets widen, becoming more and more lit as they go, and you realize that maybe you should've asked whose party this was.

"So, Brekker. Lovely night, isn't it?" You ask conversationally. From the very start You’ve always used his last name, and haven’t even thought of changing that despite how he always ground his teeth at it.

"What do you want?" He snaps.

"Come on, be nicer to your date." You can't help yourself. Kaz might not react much, but it's funny when he does react.

"This was a bad idea."

"But we're too far into it now."

Kaz's jaw clenches, and you can't help but laugh quietly. "So, the plan?"

He sighs, and you wait a moment. Although he's sometimes an asshole, and mostly keeps things to himself, he's always told you everything you needed to know in a plan.

"Just look pretty and act stupid. Do what I tell you, for once." He finally says.

"Oh, yikes, that'll be really hard. I mean, listening to you?" You joke.

Kaz pulls up short, slamming his cane out in front of you. "I mean it, assassin." 

And just as you called him Brekker, he called you by your job. Assassin. 

"You can't call me that tonight." You respond calmly. "It'll give us away."

"Say it." 

You groan. "Fine. I'll listen to you."

He nods sharply, continuing on. "Good."

"You're a little paranoid, don't you think?"

Kaz doesn't even justify you with an answer at that one, leaving you to walk alongside him quietly. 

"This is it." He announces suddenly, and draws up short.

You let your eyes flicker over the building—tons of windows—then return to him. "...are you sure?"

"Yes. Inside. Now."

The second you take a step in, you shrink yourself. Shoulders curling in, angling yourself towards Kaz. You can feel his eyes on you as you do so, raking over you.

"Loosen up." He instructs you in a low voice.

"Easy for you to say." You murmur back. "You're not the one pretending to be the crow's whore."

"Someone's said that to you before."

It's not a question. Of course it isn't. Kaz's eyes sharpen, hardening into something mean in front of you.

"Not now." You say dismissively.

He glares at you but gives you a curt nod, and together you walk into the party. You, just for tonight, let yourself revel in the eyes being drawn to you. You give a taunting grin to someone they walk by, playing up your role a little.

Look pretty? Yeah, you can do that.

"Mr. Brekker." A merchant says, his eyes sliding from Kaz to you. "And..."

"Alex." you purr, tilting your head.

Like hell you’re giving your real name out to anyone here. Instead, Alex, a random name, will have to do.

"My date." Kaz cuts in smoothly. "Don't mind them."

"Pretty." The merchant says appraisingly. You should be flattered, but you’re more disgusted.

Kaz tilts his head, studying you. "Yes." He agrees coldly. "Get a drink, we're going to talk business. Loosen up."

You pause, but this certainly isn't the time to mention that youve never drank before. Instead you give him a graceful nod, floating off through the crowds. 

The bar is an open bar, you can tell that from the lazy way the bartender is flashing his watch. Nobody here is expected to get drunk, or to steal it. Unfortunately for them, you and Kaz are here, so no watch is safe.

"I'll have a drink." You say lightly, leaning on the counter.

"Of?" The bartender asks, snorting.

Shit.

"Make me what you're best at." You answer, looking at him through your eyelashes. It should be a safe answer.

By the way the bartender smiles and starts to make something, it is. A second later a glass of something is slid your way. Here's to hoping this won't fuck with you too much.

-

Kaz Brekker

He's starting to get a little worried. Not too much, he knows you can handle yourself perfectly fine, but it has been a while since he sent you off. You weren’t at the bar: he's been checking it every few moments.

It's starting to piss him off. One job, one easy job, and you can't even follow that. There was no point in bringing you if you was just going to vanish. 

"Come on, Assassin." He murmurs, still scanning the crowd.

Truthfully, he shouldn't be calling you that here. Alex was the name you gave the merchant earlier, and Alex was the name he should be calling you by. He isn't sure where Alex came from, actually.

It doesn't matter. What does matter is what he came here for, and finding you. 

Of course, right as he's about to turn back to the real reason he's here, there's a clatter of decidedly sour guitar strings. Most don't turn towards the noise, but Kaz does. And when he sees, his entire body freezes.

Because where else would you be except talking to the guitar player. And, from the looks of it, flirting with him.

"There you are." Kaz says, striding to you, feeling like yelling. "I've been looking for you."

"Sorry." You chirp, grinning brightly at him.

At that, he falters. When was the last time he saw a smile that bright, that genuine? Actually, scratch that, when had you ever apologized to him?

He leans closer, whispering in your ear, words coming out more as a snarl than anything else. "What are you doing, Assassin?"

"Me?" You ask, looking genuinely surprised. "I'm talking to the guitar player! I used to play guitar, you know, before my father broke it."

He flicks his eyes over you. Not once have you ever divulged information about your personal life, and not once did Kaz ever ask.

"You're drunk?" He asks, incredulously.

"Me? Drunk?" You gasp, stumbling.

With a lurch, he grabs your arms to stop you from hitting the floor. Even through his gloves, it sends a jolt up his spine.

"Three layers." You slur, and he realizes you’re comforting him while drunk. "Don't panic."

"How much did you drink?" He demands lowly, dragging you to a darker corner.

"Three. Maybe four."

"Three what?"

Only three drinks shouldn't have messed you up this much, not unless they were straight vodka or something ridiculous.

"I don't know." 

He stares at you. It isn't like you to be so... careless.

"What do you mean you don't know?" He snaps.

"I've never drank before." Kaz's jaw goes slack. You’ve never drank before? This is your first time drinking? Ever? "Hey, anyone ever tell you your eyes are nice?"

"Shut up, I need to think." Kaz growls, drawing a hand down his face.

His eyes dart around, landing on a nearby door. Without a second thought, he shoves you in, closing the door behind you and locking it. It's a bathroom, and for that he's incredibly thankful.

"Splash yourself with water." Kaz orders, leaning against the wall and crossing his arms.

"Why?"

"To sober you up."

"Will it really?"

Kaz is starting to like you a lot more when she's sober.

-

You

An explosion rockets through the building, shaking the walls a little. "Woah." You laugh. It’s funny for some reason. "One of ours? Wylan's?"

"Yes." Kaz says, eyes flicking between you and the door. "Water, now."

"Why are we bombing the party?"

"Near the party." He corrects you impatiently.

There's a sudden pounding on the door, and Kaz swears under his breath violently.

"Anyone in there?! Open up!" 

You lift yourself onto the bathroom counter, sitting next to the sink. You watch Kaz, his scheming face on.

"What are you doing?" He asks, still glaring at you.

"Get over here."

"What are you doing?"

"Kaz." You raise your eyebrows. "Get caught or get over here."

Kaz clenches his jaw, striding up to you. "Now what? You're drunk, we're in a bathroom."

You run your hands through your hair, messing it up. You move back further to lean against the mirror, spreading your legs.

"Hands on either side of my head."

Immediately, Kaz stiffens. "Pardon?"

"We either make it look like you're about to fuck me or we get caught." 

His eyes go cold, but he leans in, placing a hand to right of your head. His left hand, though, goes to your waist.

"Three layers." He murmurs, almost to himself. "You're drunk, which means I'm yelling at you later for this."

"Please don't-" You cut yourself off with a gasp when the door slams open. You’re close. Not enough to touch Kaz, your mind isn't that foggy, but enough to certainly imply some things.

"Oh." A strange voice says. "Oh. My- my apologies, I didn't-"

"Get out." Kaz growls, turning his head away from you to glare at whoever is at the door.

The door shuts quickly with a loud "thud" noise. Both Kaz and you stay there for a moment, waiting to see if the intruder was actually gone.

"Wasn't that fun?" You say weakly.

"No." Kaz snaps, turning his head back to glare at you.

"Don't be pissed at me. I just saved our asses." You complain, meeting his eyes.

"Who said I'm pissed at you? Frustrated, certainly. I can't fault you too much for being drunk when I asked you to get a drink." 

"You have a nice voice." You say honestly.

"Close your mouth before you say something you'll regret."

you stare at him for a moment, mind swirling with thoughts you can't truly sort out.

You’re suspended for another second, neither of you having moved from the quite intimate position. You wasn't a short person, but you were smaller than Kaz, meaning he's practically covering your body with his right now.

"Could you get off me?" You say quietly.

"You're the one who put us in this position." He responds, raising his eyebrows. "If you were uncomfortable with it, you shouldn't have done it."

Either way, he removes his hands, but doesn't step back. Your head swims, having entirely forgotten his hand was on your waist in the first place.

"No, it's because I liked it too much." 

Kaz closes his eyes, rubbing his temples with gloved hands. "This is why I don't deal with drunk people."

"What, drunk people are too honest or something?"

"No. Secrets get spilled that nobody wants to hear."

"You don't want to hear my secrets?" You pout, a little upset. You must truly be nothing to him if he didn't even want your secrets to use against you.

"Why are you sad at that?" Kaz asks, and if you didn't know better you’d think he sounds incredulous.

"Because that means I mean nothing to you, which is depressing."

"Where did you get that idea?" His eyebrows furrow.

"You want everyone's secrets." You point out, still leaning against the mirror while sat on the counter. "Why not mine?"

"Trust me, I want them. I just want them out of your own free will."

Hell if you know what that means, but... "Nobody is holding a gun to my head."

"You're drunk. You have no filter."

"Correct. And? When did you care about morals?"

"I don't." He levels his cool gaze at you. "But when it comes to you... I know I wouldn't want my secrets getting out because I'm drunk." 

"When it comes to me?" You echo, jumping on the lose thread in his words.

"Get off the counter."

"Explain."

An unstoppable force meets an unmovable object, what happens? A collision so grand, so huge, that everything else pales in comparison.

But they aren't unstoppable or unmovable. You are drunk, Kaz has his own problems.

So he steps back, and you slide off the counter, fixing your clothes.

"Let's go." Kaz says gruffly.

But even now, even in the dim lighting of a bathroom, even with a foggy mind that is slowly clearing, you know. Hell, you both know.

Something has changed.

[slocumjoe]

Companions reactions when Sole finds an abandoned baby and is like, “Welp! No parents, your mine now!” And wants to take them back with them?

Cait; ...okay...she understands that there is something of an obligation to not leave a baby to die, but...does Sole really have to keep it? Surely there's someone else that would like a baby, like a gay couple somewhere. Maybe those lesbians in the DC science center. Or the Ms. Nanny and teacher dude that got married, also in Diamond City. Like...Sole already has a bab—oh. Right.

Codsworth; Gotcha, what are they naming it? He'll sort out the feeding situation while they figure it out, go check shops for baby things.

Curie; Ms. Nanny protocol remnants + Curie naturally having a strong sense of justice = Sole will finally hear Curie say naughty words. They won't understand it if they don't speak French, but Curie is spitting pissed off. If Sole wants that baby, they might have to wrestle it out of her hands. Becomes very mama bear. Fusses over it in incessantly. Will relax once it is in a safe environment, and then Sole can claim it for themselves.

Danse; Goes fucking Terminator levels of bodyguard until the kid is in safe hands, like Curie. If a leaf on a tree moves, he's shooting it. Twitchy and on high alert until they get to a settlement. Sole is already planning on putting a baby room in their house. Very worried. Sole has a lot on their plate, much of it involving travel. Sole is not going to travel with a baby in their arms, fuck no. Pre-BB, suggests taking it straight to the Prydwen. After...surprisingly open to keeping it.

Deacon; Thinks they're straight-up joking. Makes a joke in response. Sole keeps joking, he keeps joking, Sole holds up a baby, Deacon has an aneurysm. Plays 5d chess in his head, planning the safest routes back to a town. Hyperventilating the whole time. Babies are loud. Loud is bad. Sole says they want it. Also bad. Sole. You are a spy. Spies don't have kids. You can't keep it, he's sorry, he knows what it's like, but that kid is safer somewhere else.

Gage; The deepest sigh man has ever achieved. Could have inflated a blimp with it. Okay, yeah, sure. Don't use crotchgoblins as bearbait. He's a raider, but there's...no, no there isn't honor amongst raiders. There is with Gage, though, he has, like, some coupons he can cash in whenever the ol' moral compass stops pointing at money. But...no. No, Sole...no. You don't have to put it back, but you can't keep it. And if they're Overboss? What the fuck are you thinking? What, like Mags is gonna babysit or some shi–why are they looking at him like that.

Hancock; A pendulum of 'chill with it' and 'unchill.' On one hand, SOMEONE GET THE BABY AN ADULT. On the other, WAIT NO NOT HIM, A CAPABLE ADULT. Doesn't matter what relationship he has with Sole. Hancock is getting babysitting duty. Hancock always gets babysitting duty. For some reason, he gets stuck watching kids way too fucking much. It's not that he hates them, it's that he breathes more Jet than air and has a penchant for throwing knives at things when bored. Please for the love of God, keep it if you want, but understand Hancock himself is baby and is not suitable for watching another baby.

MacCready; He's from Little Lamplight. As if he's even gonna blink. Hops on board quicker than Codsworth.

Piper; Sole's probably still in that phase after having their own child, where the hormones go all crazy with kids in general...losing their kid isn't helping matters, either, huh? Regardless of the circumstances, Piper is just going to shrug and do what she can to help. Whoever the parents are, they're either dead or don't deserve it, so...

Nick; Will not rest until he finds parents, dead or alive. If they are alive, has some stern fucking words for them. It'll take a damn good reason for him to take the kid from Sole and give it back to the parents. Will also suggest giving it to a couple who wants kids, but can't have them. Knows quite a few people who'd appreciate it. But not against Sole keeping it. Hope they like Uncle Nick back-seat parenting, though. Like a crusty grandpa at Thanksgiving who makes a face when your five year old has an iPad.

That grandpa is right, by the way.

Preston; Also doesn't flinch. Baby alone in the Commonwealth, you take the baby. This isn't a moral conundrum, it's basic common sense. Sole wants to keep the baby? Chill. Preston is not a useless potato sack of a person, like some people. Baby get, baby take care of. Hey, they're Minutemen, too, so they should have access to resources you need for childrearing. Third fastest to hop aboard the This Is My Baby Now train.

X6-88;

[shimkongzlove]

Ryouhei x reader

A/N - loved windbreaker but I couldn't find many fics related to it so I decided to write one on my own . It is terribly written with a bunch of spelling mistakes and a basic plot. Read at your own risk ❌️❌️

Warning- mention of blood , violence , a bit of angst , sexual themes ( ig that's it )

You were working as an intern in the xyz hospital ( choose any name u like ) for your winter break . U loved working there , the staff was sweet and u received a good pay . But there were a lot of things which dint particularly suit your liking ,first and foremost it was situated in a rather shady area , the patients who came there during ur night shift were let's just say interesting .

Night shifts were something that u did not enjoy even hated to a certain level . They were tiring, boring and deprived you off of sleep . Yet what was important had to be done

4:30 am

A cold gush of winds welcomed u as u exited the hospital . The walk home was rather quite until u heard grunting from a nearby alley . Normally u would have ignored it but today u were feeling rather curious

U peeked into the alley way only to find a man surrounded by blood , lying on the cold floor . U stood there Debating whether to help the man or not and atlast ur heart won over ur mind .

U made your way to him cursing yourself for even stopping in the first place . Kneeling down next to him u observed his features . He was handsome no he was hot as fuck , the scar running down his face Made it 100 times better maybe it wasn't that bad of a decision to stop

While u were in your little dream land the man in question had regained his consciousness, his instinct led his hand to your wrist breaking u away from your thoughts .

The panic started to set in 'fuck he's awake man I hate my self for this ' , " who are you " said the stranger in question not letting go of your wrist which was starting to hurt " you're hurting me let go , please " ur plee fell on deff ears " I'm a doctor ur bleeding profusely if we don't sto-" ur words were cut short by the man pulling u closer "I asked who the fuck are you " he asked once again ignoring ur words . His deep voice sent shivers down ur body , ur face was just inches away frm his " si-sir I'm y/n , I can help you , your wounds look deep we have to stop the bleeding "

"I'm fine " he said letting go of your wrist " don't need help frm a complete stranger " "sir pls these wounds look serious I promise I mean no harm " as much as u hated the man's attitude u were still a doctor by profession it was your duty to help those in need

"My house is just 5 minutes away from here I can help stop ur bleeding and then we can both go our separate ways forgetting this ever happened deal " before he could argue his body gave up and he fell right into your arms

'Fuck he's heavy ' u somehow managed to drag him to your apartment . U laid his body down on your bed and started collecting all the medical supplys needed for the treatment .

Ryouhei's pov - 'man does my head hurt ' regaing back his consciousness he started to realize that he was not in an alley fighting people but rather he was lying on a bed one that was not his , his vision was still quite blurry from the hit he had taken , realizing he could not do much in his state he layed there accepting his faith

"Oh, ur awake I was just collecting the medical supplies needed for your treatment " "where am i" he said once again ignoring u " ur at my house, I promised I won't harm u so rest assured" u said walking closer to him " I dint quite catch ur name " " ryouhei " he said In an uninterested tone " well ryouhei-san you'll need to take of your um... clothes for me to help you..." u said as blood creeped up to your cheeks

He adhered to your request without any further question . He had a well toned body with a few cuts and scratches here and there . U caught urself staring a little more then needed, face as red as a tomato "take a pic it'll last longer " were the words that broke ur train of thoughts u felt an ache between ur legs ' this is so unprofessional, but man he's so hot ' "so-sorry, ehh anyways I'll start your treatment it's gonna sting a little so try not to move that much k?"

Sitting next to him on your bed u started your treatment , u felt him shiver under your touch "why are u doing this " he asked " I'm a doctor, it's my duty to help those in need " ur words sounded sincere to him " I'm a bad guy ukw that right " " I'm just here for the intern ship , i dont know the dirty business that goes around here " u said eyes still on his wounds , somehow u dint feel scared by his declaration , his hands went to your waist pulling ur body even more closer to his , stopping ur movements " everyone here knows who I am , many are scared to even approach I could do anything to you and ppl won't even bat an eye "

"U could have harmed me the moment you woke up yet here we are , so ik u won't do anything to me , atleast that's what I'd like to believe " " tch, ur way too confident " u decided not to reply , the time after that passed by silently

After about 15 or 20 minutes u were done putting bandages on his chest, arms and shoulders there were still a few cuts and scratches on his back so u asked him to turn around . He was now laying on his back

The spots were hard to treat because of the position u both were In , the only best possible way for u to reach them was to sit on his back "ryouhei-san ...the wounds on your back are kind of hard to reach so I'll need to change my position to treat them " " do whatever u want"

So u did what u had to , your theigs were now on either side of his body ( u were wearing shorts) touching his bare back.

Ryouheis pov

He was going crazy , the feeling of your theigs deff caused him to get a hard on not only that ,since the moment he met u . He was doomed. U were so pretty ,ur skin shining in the moon light, ur sweet voice, ur scent everything about u was intoxicating he couldn't take it much longer

He turned around causing u to yelp and hold on to his shoulders for support u were now basically straddling him " ur driving me nuts " "what did I d-" before u could finish , u felt smth poking ur inner thigh "oh" " yea feel that , that's what u did , you gotta help me now babe "

The end

( this is sooo poorly written 👎 but I had to to justice to my man ryouhei , there are barely any fics about him 😭😭 lemme know if yall want a pt2 )

( ps- this is the first fic iv ever written so please go easy on me and I hope yall enjoyed it)

[ryanthel0ser]

Matchablossom fic but it's a braindump cause I can't write a full fic right now

Joe is the first one to realize his feelings. He almost feels his heart stop as it hits him. He's in love with Cherry. He's been in love with Cherry for a long time. It doesn't take long for him to wish he hadn't realized, everything changes. If he acted on it, he risks losing Cherry because Cherry probably doesn't feel the same...right?

No, nope. Can't get caught up in that thought. Besides, they never really talk about each others feelings like that so how'd he even say it? He couldn't even get one word out before Cherry raced Adam. It's best to just leave things as is, he's been in love with Cherry this whole time so he just keeps doing the usual. It'll be fine...yeah.

Time goes on, things are for the most part normal, but it's starting to show that something is eating away at Joe. Cherry isn't sure how to bring it up, they never really talk about this stuff after all. The others haven't noticed but they don't really know Kojiro like he does.

"So, I've seen you're losing your touch." "What?" "You haven't had as many women hanging off your arms. Are they finally realizing you're a gorilla?" "HEY I've just been busy that's all, and why the hell do you care." "Because maybe with your focus off getting some action every weekend you'll make better food." "Are you saying the food I make now isn't good?" "Your words not mine." "Then, why do you keep coming here asshole if you think my cooking is that bad!" "You're the closest Italian restaurant and I know at the very least you'll get my order right." "Whatever."

He puts Cherry's order in front of him and walks back to the kitchen, throwing his hands up. Cherry wouldn't admit it, but Joe's cooking had gotten better. He was a great chef before, but something must've changed in his technique. The ingredients were all the same, the presentation was identical to what it'd always been, but recently every order Cherry got tasted better than before.

Joe had also begun to say Cherry's order before he could, even if it was different that day. Out of annoyance, Cherry ordered something completely out of his usual tastes. Joe raised an eyebrow and scoffed,

"You're gonna hate it, just get the carbonara like you always do." "Just make my order already, I want to try something else." "Alright, don't say I didn't warn you."

It arrives and...Cherry hates it. He tries to eat it and put on his best poker face but it's just not what he wants. It's well made, but he hates the taste and texture. Suddenly, a plate of carbonara is placed in next to him. It had only been a minute.

"Even I can't watch your suffering like that." "I've only taken a few bites you buffoon." "Yeah and it's written all over your face that you hate it. I had your carbonara made at the same time. Enjoy princess."

Joe takes the other plate and walks off again. Cherry watches him leave. There's a strange flutter in his chest.

Eventually something happens with Joe, something related to his restaurant that does get resolved but Cherry is worried for Joe the whole time. It's similar to how Joe was before his race against Adam so Cherry doesn't quite know how to express his worry to Joe. Paired with how weird Joe is starting to get around him it's creating tension.

Their bickering starts to become full on arguments, the others are trying to figure out what's wrong between Joe and Cherry because this isn't their surface level bickering. One night in Joe's restaurant after closing they get into another heated argument but it reaches a point where someone says something that snaps them both back to reality. They realize their arguing isn't about the topic, but something else.

Joe goes to the back, Cherry is left sitting at the bar scared Joe isn't coming back. Joe walks back and goes to where Cherry is sat, skateboard in hand.

"Lets go for a ride, you and me."

Cherry follows him out with Carla. They skate together around the island in the moonlight. After a bit, Joe begins apologizing to Cherry. He doesn't confess to Cherry, but he does detail how important Cherry is to him and how stressed and worried he's been over what's been happening at the restaurant. This heartfelt admission from Joe is said the same way he spoke to Cherry when he was asleep, only this time Cherry can hear every word.

"Right, Kaoru?"

Kojiro smiles at him softly, the moonlight perfectly framing him. Kaoru is in love with him. He's deeply in love with him. His chest begins to hurt as his heart starts to fill looking at Kojiro. He's been there for him since they were kids, he's cared for him despite the bickering and Kaoru's picky attitude. He was there when Adam was still a fresh wound and when Adam hospitalized him. He could almost feel the blanket Kojiro put on him that night he escaped the hospital and slept in the restaurant. It felt like his heart was about to burst out of his chest as he remembered Kojiro staying with him the whole night.

Kaoru was in love with Kojiro.

Things changed after that. Joe and Cherry weren't arguing anymore, but their bickering did have a new air to it. Joe would smile at Cherry in a not-cocky way and Cherry's ears kept turning red. Shadow teased him about it once. He quickly regretted it. No one else brought up Cherry's ears if Cherry was near after that.

Small actions begin to build up between them that start to make things more awkward. Little things that push the boundaries of their friendship. Joe wiping Cherry's face off, Cherry fixing Joe's shirt, getting close enough to where both move away with pink cheeks, and Cherry keeps calling Joe Kojiro.

One night at S, Cherry wins his race and Joe picks him up and swings him around in a hug. Cherry gets flustered and doesn't react normally. They stare at each other awkwardly for what feels like ages. Joe thinks he's done something wrong, that he's finally gone too far. He leaves S not long after, quickly. Cherry gets stopped by his fans, searching around for Joe. The others tell him Joe left already. He gets out and takes off on Carla looking for Joe.

Finally, he catches up to Joe (thank you Carla) and does a move that forces him to stop.

"The hell Kaoru! That could've crashed us!" "Talk. What's going on?"

The look on Cherry's face makes it very clear Joe can't avoid it. Joe sighs, he didn't know how he was going to say this, especially with his heart in his throat. Both of their hearts are pounding.

He begins talking about things just like he did on the night ride, but adds more. The words he's using and the way he's saying it changes the meaning they had on the night ride. His cheeks are red, he's stumbling over some words, dancing around what he really wants to say.

Kaoru can barely hear over the pounding in his chest, but he catches everything he needs to. And he's starting to get frustrated.

Just say it. Tell me Kojiro.

…Fuck it.

"Do I have to do everything myself?"

He pulls down his mask and then pulls Kojiro into a kiss. He's shocked for a moment before melting into the kiss a bit. Kaoru pulls away, flustered and avoiding Kojiro's gaze.

"There, now we kn-"

Before he can get another word out, Kojiro pulls him by the waist into another kiss. A longer one, both of them melting into it as they pull the other closer. Kaoru then feels a smile form on Kojiro's lips, before Kojiro begins to laugh a bit.

"What?" "You're a terrible kisser." "THEN WHY DID YOU KISS ME AGAIN IDIOT?!" "Cause how else are you supposed to learn pinky?"

They decide for now to keep their relationship under wraps, not because they're worried about possible homophobia but because it would attract so much unwanted attention. The top skaters at S in a romantic relationship would get a lot of eyes and questions neither want to deal with. This also means they don't tell the others immediately because SOME people cannot keep their mouths shut (shenanigans will ensue because of this).

To everyone else, it seems like they're back to normal, except they keep giving each other bedroom eyes on occasion now. For them though, their lives have just a bit more late night skating, kissing, and morning cuddles.

[shunin-gumis]

Netaro Initial SSR Story

Netaro's Soulmate Search, Group Date Edition (Part 1)

Any notes with a * are at the bottom!

Also Netaro has a unique style of speaking, I hope it was conveyed in the TL 😭😭

Netaro: Beatrice, oh Beatrice~ Where art thou~?

Momiji: Woah!? Netaro-kun!?

Netaro: Your good work is appreciated, Doudou~* Does writing up that report take up all your attention?

Netaro: Knock after knock and without a response, I simply couldn't wait any longer. So I had no choice but to break in.

Momiji: I-is that so... Sorry about that.

Momiji: Um, what was it about.... Beatrice?

Momiji: If I recall correctly... you're searching for your other half.... Your "Fate", right?

Netaro: Bingo~ You deserve a gold star!

Netaro: For the sake of this new dream I have discovered on this planet, I have been pointing my antenna this way and that on the daily, but alas-

Netaro: It is not enough! Simply put, I am severely lacking in new encounters! I must acquaint myself with a much larger scope of humans~!!

Momiji: Meeting more people huh... How about something like a group date?

Netaro: Group date?

Momiji: Yeah, it's something like a party where people gather to form new relationships. I heard that Liguang's little sister would be hosting one soon.

Netaro: Ooh~ Group date, a group date! It has an interesting echo indeed!

Netaro: Now that we have decided, it is time to intrude upon Luu-li!Let us depart, Doudou!

Momiji: Woah, wait! At least let me save my report!!

Momiji: ... And that's the current situation.

Liguang: ...

Netaro: Why do you look so displeased?

Liguang: ... It should be obvious.

Liguang: Since LinXing is hosting the event, I'm certain she would be pleased to have more participants join.

Liguang: But when said participant is you...

Netaro: I cannot help but get the feeling that you think quite poorly of me...

Netaro: How about this, if you would allow my participation, I could make these fluffy twin-eared critters even fluffier and cuter than ever!

Liguang: Try and lay a finger on them, I'll make sure you regret ever being born.

Netaro: You would make me regret my birth over something like this?

Momiji: Um, well, can you let him in just this once? I'll be with him too.

Momiji: ... I was the one who brought it up in the first place, I'll take responsibility for it.

Liguang: ... I'll allow it since it's your request.

Momiji: Thank you very much.

Liguang: However, Yowa.

Netaro: Oyo?

Liguang: If I hear that you caused trouble for LinXing or the other participants, we will need to have a "talk".

Netaro: Goodness, that Luu-li fellow. He need not be so dramatic about it. I am, as always, doing my best to stay on the same level as you humans.

Netaro: Oh well. Group date, group date~ I am bursting with anticipation~

Momiji: Netaro-kun looks like he's in a good mood. I'm glad I suggested this.

Momiji: But I get what Liguang-san was concerned about.

Momiji: Although everyone at HAMA Tours is used to Netaro's eccentricity, there's no way to know how people meeting him for the first time would react...

Momiji: I should try out some questions with him.

Momiji: Um, Netaro-kun, what are your hobbies?

Netaro: Nnn... As of recently, dramas and movies have been occupying my time, I enjoy them quite a bit.

Momiji: Oh! That's a pretty solid response, maybe it'll be ok-

Netaro: It is a splendid observation log for human nature indeed. Witnessing humans destroy themselves over intense feelings of love and hatred.... it is simply delectable.

Momiji: ...What are your favorite foods?

Netaro: Meat buns! Firefly squids are a no-go, they remind me too much of a superior of mine and make my stomach churn. Those eyes especially...

Momiji: ........ How about a special skill?

Netaro: I must say I am quite skilled at inventing amusing gadgets! My latest masterpiece is a glove that can squirt out orange juice indefinitely from the fingers-

Momiji: Stop, Netaro-kun. Just, stop.

Momiji: This is bad! I can't let him participate at this rate!

Netaro: Whatever is the matter? Would you have preferred it squirt out udon instead?

Momiji: That's not it. We need to practice on your Q&A skills today!

Momiji: The better you get at interacting with others, I'm sure it will better your chances at meeting your Beatrice too.

Momiji: I'll accompany your practice too.

Netaro: Doudou is kind indeed~

Netaro: Yes, I shall redouble my efforts as well. Time to level up my speaking skills and aim to be the top conversationalist master~!!

Momiji: That's the spirit!

Momiji: Hmm, first, let's talk to Kinari-kun who's sitting right there.

Netaro: Roger~

Netaro: Nari, I think it would crack me up if we could get laser beams to shoot out of your eyes, but do you mind if I sit next to you?

Kinari: There is an error in communication. I fail to understand the logic behind your sentence.

Kinari: However... A beam is worth considering if it would help me protect Master from any villains. Please give me a detailed explanation.

Momiji: No, you really don't have to do that.

Momiji: The road ahead is going to be a long one...

Notes:

Netaro's nicknames

Doudou is the nickname Netaro has given Chief/The protagonist. I believe the origin of the term is from French, and there are two interpretations of his usage for it. One is where it's used as a term of endearment for a partner, and the other is where it literally translates to a soft piece of fabric or a cuddly toy, implying that Netaro finds the Chief a comforting presence. As far as I've seen, we don't see exactly when or why he gave this nickname to Chief, he simply started using it in the main story and no one showed any surprise.

Luu-Li is Netaro's nickname for Lu Liguang

Nari is Netaro's nickname for Kinari.

Part 2

[huggaboos]

Turbulent Tub

Deadpool trying to get a grumpy little Wolverine to take a bath...

Deadpool watched as Wolverine, or rather a very little Logan, sat on the bathroom floor, looking up at him with a mix of defiance and uncertainty in his gaze. "Come on, little dude, time to get cleaned up," Deadpool said, trying to sound authoritative while keeping a playful tone in his voice. Wolverine crossed his arms and frowned up at his teammate. "No, no!" he said firmly. "Don't want bath!" Deadpool chuckled and knelt down to be at eye level with him. "You gotta take a bath, Wolvie. You're still pretty messy from doin' all that rolling around you did outside." He reached out and ruffled little Wolverine's hair, causing him to scrunch his nose and swat his hand away. "Don't want to!" Logan repeated, his claws popping out involuntarily as he tried to look intimidating while sitting on the floor in a muddy footed onesie, which immediately caused Wade to laugh at his adorable antics. "You're cute when you try to be tough, ya know that?" Wolverine's face scrunched up in irritation, a hint of a pout on his face as he attempted to turn away from his merc caregiver. "I'm not cute! I'm dangerous," he grumbled, trying to sound fierce. Deadpool chuckled again, unable to resist the adorableness. "Oh, you're sooo dangerous. I'm shaking in my boots." He reached out and quickly scooped up little Wolverine, who let out a playful growl in response. "Down, down!" Wolverine protested, wriggling in Deadpool's arms. "No bath, no!" Wade simply carried him towards the bathtub, trying to keep a firm but gentle grip on the squirming Logan. "Relax, kiddo. It'll be fun! I'll throw some toys in there, maybe some bubbles.." Deadpool tried to coax the reluctant hero, but Wolverine's expression remained unconvinced. As Deadpool placed Wolverine in the water, he lets out a loud and exaggerated sigh, as if to show just how much of an inconvenience this bath was to him. The water was warm, and the bubbles were starting to foam up, but Logan adamantly crossed his arms and pouted.

Deadpool sat down next to the edge of the tub, amused by his little one's stubbornness. "You're quite the little diva, aren't you?" he teased. "Most kids love bath time." "Nuh uh," Wolverine shot back, his little face set in a petulant frown as he splashed the water a bit, trying to look tough but only managing to look even more adorable. Deadpool chuckled and reached for some toy ducks floating nearby. "Oh, my mistake, stubborn little beast it is then!" he said, dropping a variety of small ducks into the water next to Wolverine. Logan eyed the ducks skeptically, trying to maintain his tough façade, but a small hint of curiosity crept into his expression. He tentatively reached out a hand towards one of the ducks. Deadpool leaned in, trying not to let his excitement show too much. "See? Bath time is fun, isn't it?" he encouraged, pushing one of the ducks closer to his hand. Wolverine relented a bit and grabbed the duck, examining it closely with a wide innocent eyes. The duck had a cheery expression on its face, and it was clear that Logan was fighting back a smile. "Mmm... guess not bad." he mumbled, reluctantly starting to play with the toy in the bath as a relieved Deadpool sat beside the tub in peace, silently celebrating his victory.

[skyloftian-nutcase]

I kinda like your chronicles of the domain story thing if you wanna do something with that for the prompt event. thx!

(@silvrash-797 this one’s for you ❤️)

Link was sick.

It wasn't anything too alarming, Abel told himself repeatedly. The chidl had a stuffed nose, a bit of a fever, and a wretched cough. Captain Tomall had assigned Abel to guard the Hylian quarters to help him care for his boy, which the young knight greatly appreciated. He spent the morning with Link in his arms, comforting the poor child, who was quite miserable with his situation. Abel's touch wasn't as gentle as Tilieth's, but his soft words of encouragement and love seemed to help either way.

He pointedly ignored the fear in his heart, like a tiny needle trying to undo him. He pointedly didn't think about how Tilieth had been sick before their departure, how Link maybe somehow had it now. But that couldn't be the case - it had been two weeks since they'd left Hateno, after all.

Still, Link coughed and moaned, and Abel worried.

Ekan, Abel's teammate in guard duty today, offered to take care of everything so Abel could just rest with his son. Abel was somewhat annoyed with the offer - Ekan was by far the weakest fighter in the group, and he did not take his duty as seriously, so leaving him in charge would be a disaster. Although the man had a good heart, Abel didn't trust the Zora enough to leave protecting Hylians up to Ekan alone.

It was strange, though. Having spent roughly a week here now, Abel was... not entirely sure what to make of the Zora. He'd heard of them, of course - a mysterious and elegant race of water loving people, with strange appearances, beautiful aesthetic, and strong magic.

When they'd been briefed for this mission, they had all been told briefly of the political landscape, at least enough for them to grasp the importance of protecting their ambassador, Cilda. The Domain and Hyrule had clashed in the past, though not too recently. Nevertheless, tensions remained high, and trust low. The late Zora Queen had not liked Hyrule much, but with her death the Queen of Hyrule saw a new opportunity to establish good relations with the heir apparent, Dorephan.

Dorephan. The man had been kind enough when Abel had met him. But he could also very clearly see distrust and disdain in the upcoming king's advisors, and it made him wary.

He hoped everything would go well, though. If nothing else, for Link's sake. The boy had really started taking a liking to some Zora children, and had even interacted with the little princess, Mipha. Abel wasn't entirely sure how appropriate that was, and tried to keep it to a minimum, but he couldn't control his son while he was on duty, much as he tried.

None of that really mattered now, though. Not with Link being sick.

Speaking of the Zora, however, one of the little Zora children did stop by to ask if Link could play. Rivan, if Abel recalled correctly. The little boy was greatly disappointed when he heard Link was ill, and he asked that Abel pass along message to get better soon because we were gonna go see Ploymous Mountain (to which Abel pointed out that children should not be wandering to random mountains by themselves since he hardly knew the terrain or how dangerous this area was).

As Abel checked on his little boy in the afternoon, having left him in bed to rest, he found the child clutching his cow plushie and sniffling. The knight's heart twisted a little at the sight of it, and he knelt down to be at eye level with the child.

"Feeling any better?" he asked quietly, gently brushing hair away from the boy's face.

"My head hurts," Link whined, voice breaking halfway through the sentence.

Sympathy tugged at the man's heart, and he leaned in to kiss the child before saying, "It'll get better, son. Drink some water and rest, okay? I'll be back with dinner."

He felt a little bad for leaving the child, but to be fair, he'd carried him around with him most of the morning. As much as he loved Link, he didn't need to coddle him too much. The boy would have to learn to become more independent someday. Abel found himself constantly debating how to go about doing that - Tilieth would treat him like a baby all the way up to his adolescence if she could, but Abel didn't agree with that. But he also didn't think it was fair to just throw the boy into the world as he himself had been, forced to parent his little sister, forced to run the house when their mother deteriorated and passed away.

He'd comforted Link plenty today, right? And he would tell him a bedtime story with dinner. He couldn't be with the boy all day. He hadn't been their entire stay here.

But Link was sick. And Abel was worried.

He sighed heavily, returning to his post, ignoring Ekan's gaze. When his teammate tried to start conversation, hand restlessly running over his dark cornrows on his head, Abel tried not to be too snippy in response. There was nothing wrong with Ekan trying to be friendly; Abel simply was too stressed to play along.

The next day, Link's fever finally seemed to break, giving Abel immense relief. Captain Tommell mentioned that there would be some sort of serious meeting between the heir apparent and their diplomat, Cilda, and many Zora officials would be there, meriting tighter security. Abel hadn't really seen the soon-to-be-king since his initial meeting with him - most of Cilda's interactions were with Zora officials beneath him, after all. This was important.

Which meant he would be assigned to guard her. And Link would be alone, sick.

Abel swallowed his remorse on the matter. Duty was duty. He spent breakfast in his room with Link.

"I'm going to be guarding the diplomats today, son," he explained gently. "I asked Sir Ekan to make sure you're okay."

"Braids soldier?"

Abel's mouth twisted a little in amusement. "You have to learn their names, Link. They're our... our friends here."

"But I don't want Braids Soldier," Link whined. "I want you, Papa."

Abel sighed. "Sometimes we can't get what we want, Link. Our duty always has to come first, remember? Others are relying on me, too. You're safe here. Our ambassador is not."

Link hugged Mrs. Moo more tightly, lip wobbling, but he nodded. Abel smiled proudly at it. His little boy would be a good soldier someday, and he told him as much before kissing his forehead and steeling himself for a long day. Link was on the mend, though, so no matter what, it would be fine.

And it was fine. Until the next day, when Abel woke up with a runny nose and a headache.

He groaned. Of course I got it too.

Whatever this obnoxious feverish nightmare was, it was clearly contagious. He prayed it didn't spread to the other soldiers. Goddess, what if he passed it on to the captain, or the ambassador?

Link wiggled in the bed a little, clearly far more energized, jumping up and down in excitement. "Papa! Papa I'm feeling better! Papa, look!"

Abel swallowed, feeling his throat scrape against itself, raw and swollen. He mustered a smile, nodding. "That's good, son. Maybe you can go play with your friends today?"

Link nodded eagerly.

The little one's smile fell, however, when Abel started coughing harshly as he stood.

"Papa?" he asked, beady eyes wide with worry.

"I'm okay," Abel assured him, pointedly ignoring the look from their roommate, Norri.

When he coughed again, though, world spinning slightly as his head pounded, Link immediately shifted uncomfortably. "Papa, you're not okay."

"Link--"

"Papa, you're sick!"

"It's okay, son."

Link's eyes were filled with tears, and Abel was almost baffled at the reaction. Surely he couldn't look that ill, right?

"I made you sick," Link whimpered.

Oh.

"No," Abel hastily tried to appease him. "No, sweet child. It--I got this from--from Norri."

His roommate's expression grew affronted, and the younger knight huffed, freshening up and stepping out of the room.

Link seemed a little less horrified, but no less worried.

"Son," Abel said gently, picking him up and kissing him. "I'm a grown up. When we get sick we're okay. We don't really get all that sick. My body's bigger and stronger, so I can handle it, okay? I'll be fine."

Settling him on the ground, he nudged him along. "Go eat some breakfast. I'll be out shortly."

When he stepped out into the hall, he nearly jumped to the ceiling when Norri materialized beside him, saying, "I am not pretending to be sick just to assuage your child's worries. Unlike you, I am dedicating all my energy into doing my duty."

Abel's patience wasn't what it should have been. Not with as ill as he was feeling. Instead of taking the words with a neutral expression, he snapped, "Don't take my care for my child as shirking my duty. You know nothing of responsibility until you have someone in your care. Some of us aren't self centered brats who wish to climb the ranks."

He really should have held his tongue. Especially since Norri had occasionally tried to look out for him. The man wasn't a bad person, just... immature. He had his opinions about Link's presence, and Abel bristled at it. It wasn't as if he himself weren't aware of the inconvenience having a four-year-old caused; he didn't need it rubbed in.

Before Abel could retract his words, their superior arrived to corral them into the den and hand out their assignments. Abel would be with the ambassador alongside the captain and, of course, Norri.

Great. This was going to be a great day. Abel held back another coughing fit as he said his goodbye to Link and told him they would spar in the evening. Ekan, kindhearted as he was, promised he would keep an eye on Link and told Abel to take care of himself.

Goddess, how obvious was this illness? Abel felt miserable but he thought he was hiding it fairly well.

Well. Until he wasn't.

It wasn't entirely his fault. But he supposed that didn't matter. Lack of food and water mixed with whatever was tearing his body apart, and it turned into the perfect storm.

At least Abel managed to excuse himself from the meeting hall and made it into some innocuous corner before the dark edges of his vision caught up to the rest of him.

He wasn't entirely sure how long he'd passed out, but the sunlight didn't seem to have moved too much when he awoke. His shoulder ached--he must have hit it when he fell--but thankfully his helmet protected his head from any major impact. Now he just needed to find some water and get back to his post.

Shakily, Abel pulled himself to his feet, leaning heavily against the wall, when he realized he was being watched.

He reached for his blade automatically, feeling far too vulnerable, but a strong voice said, "Steady, Hylian. I don't mean you any harm. You're hardly a threat in your state, anyway."

Abel bristled a little at the implication of his ineptitude, but he sheathed his sword nonetheless. He didn't need to cause a diplomatic incident. The Zora in question was a sergeant, Seggin, who was known for his pride and prowess in battle. He was head of all the Zora military as well, which made this particularly unnerving.

Abel was exposing himself as a weak link in the Hylian forces, and he hated it. He wasn't entirely sure how to get himself out of this situation, so he just tried to stand tall and proud and strong, despite having just passed out.

"Hylians are so delicate, aren't they?" Seggin continued, walking towards him with his arms crossed. "Your kind live such short lives. You hardly understand anything of how the world works, and I wouldn't exactly call your people capable. How Hylia favored your race is beyond me."

Abel steeled himself for a fight, face carefully neutral so as not to be the one to start it, but more than willing to end it.

Seggin sighed before reaching for something and holding it out. "Drink. Get back what little strength your feeble Hylian body can muster. I'll not have you dying in my prince's halls and causing a problem."

As much as he wanted to punch the sergeant, Abel opted to just take the offered water flask and drink. He also promised himself to spar somewhere public when he was feeling better so as to prove this sergeant wrong.

With a nod of thanks, he made his way back to the meeting hall, ignoring Seggin's watchful eye as the sergeant also walked there. The two had a silent face off the rest of the day, sizing each other up, though Seggin hardly seemed concerned by Abel.

When the young Hylian knight returned to the barracks, he felt absolutely wretched, but he tried to put it aside as Link eagerly asked about sparring and talked about his day. Abel indulged the boy, wanting to also stretch and fight as well, and the two went at it briefly with wooden training swords. Link's prowess still surprised Abel, and honestly, with as sick as he felt, the child genuinely did almost defeat him.

Honestly, the joy of seeing his boy's abilities really did make him feel better. As he undressed from his armor, he felt his trousers get tugged and looked down to see Link holding a tray of food and what looked like five glasses of water.

"I brought dinner," he said, holding the tray up as proof.

"I... already ate," Abel replied, confused. "Remember? I had dinner with you."

"But it wasn't enough, Papa!" Link argued. "And you need water when you're sick."

Abel sighed heavily. There was little point in arguing with the child, so he nibbled on the offered food, ignoring Norri as he entered the room.

Link watched him uncertainly, holding his plushie tightly. When Abel smiled at him, he held the toy out hesitantly. "Do... do you want Mrs. Moo?"

Abel tried not to choke on his water. "W-why?"

"She helps," Link explained seriously. "When you weren't there she made me feel better because she's from you and Mama."

Abel lost his appetite in a heartbeat, guilt gnawing at his insides. He swallowed, putting the tray down on his lap. "I... sure, Link. Thank you."

Link smiled eagerly, taking the tray and putting it on the nightstand before handing Mrs. Moo to his father. Then he started fussing over Abel, insisting he tuck him in (and pat his cheeks with his grubby little hands, and goddess if it didn't take all of Abel's willpower not to laugh at the silly child). When Abel's pillow was fluffed, blanket pulled up to his chin, and Mrs. Moo secured snugly in his arms, Link was finally satisfied.

Abel smiled as his sweet boy crawled under the blankets to snuggle with him. Mrs. Moo smelled like soggy cloth and spilled food, and he noted he should probably wash the thing in the morning. His headache didn't seem to pound quite as much with some water, and the general ache that had been creeping through his body wasn't enough to keep him from trying to get comfortable.

In the end, Link's care was far more healing than anything else, and Abel felt his heart warm as he fell asleep that night.

[phantomrose96]

Yknow I don't think I've... talked about the absolute smorgasbord of shit what's gone wrong with my condo since I moved in so

day 0 - hadn't moved in yet, was just moving items over, turned the sink on for just a moment. turns out the tube feeding into the sink faucet was full of holes (how???) and this caused a never-ending leak under the sink. the standing water rotted the baseboard under the sink

still day 0 - said leak and water accrual dripped down and damaged downstairs neighbor's ceiling ($$$). she has to call me to tell me about it.

I have to get a plumber out there next day (still not living there yet! empty place! I have to take off work). While waiting for plumber, I discover heat's not working.

Go to basement to investigate boiler. Seller didn't fix the issue they claimed they fixed.

Plumber looks at sink. Declares it full of holes. Says he can come back in a few days to fix it.

(Plumber postpones, then flakes. I chase down a different plumber.)

Plumber 2 says the issue is with the garbage disposal, not the faucet. Can come back x days later to work on that, and the boiler.

Plumber 2 comes back x days later (I have to take off work again), says "oh the disposal was messed up but also the faucet has holes." Says he can come back maybe the NEXT day with a new faucet

Oh also the smoke detector in the back hall is low battery beeping and I don't have a battery for it. It's constant, every minute on the minute.

I bike to a hardware store and buy a faucet and a battery ($$). Get lost on the way home. (All of this back and forth is by bike. I live in the city and do not have a car.)

Plumber replaces the faucet ($$). I replace the smoke detector battery but it's still beeping. Dozens of more stupid minutes later of going up and down and up and down stairs and dragging my big stupid ladder around, I realize it's the carbon monoxide detector which is hidden behind the door I need to open to even get to the back hallway.

Plumber services the boiler ($$$)

I move in. I have a less than great time emptying everything from my apartment, which doesn't have plumbing issues. On a bad foot to start.

Travel for Christmas. Come back. Now the first floor back-hall smoke detector is beeping. (At least I have a fucking battery. Get my big stupid ladder down the back hall, knock every wall on the way down, and replace that battery).

I get first month's heating bill (I'd been living there for 10 days if even.) $334. Jesus christ. Likely due to the boiler issue.

Electricity goes out for the evening, same day as I get this bill from the gas and electric company, because fuck you I guess.

Homeowners insurance log in doesn't work. I haven't received my bill, which I need to pay.

Radiators bang in the middle of the night. Something something about them being old or not level or full of ghosts. Cool I don't need to sleep or whatever.

I've received no correspondence from the bank about my first mortgage payment. It'll be due Jan 1st, which is a holiday, so I reach out early. They say it's in the mail.

I monitor my mail every day. I receive no mail. I contact again. I reach out to my old apartment building in case it's there (they can't tell me). I sign up for a bank account with them online. I jump through various hoops to discover the bank has my address wrong. The address of the place the mortgage is on...

They had the mortgage address right. They had my home address as identical to the mortgage address but with one number missing. No one noticed. They'd been sending my stuff to a non-existent address, or the back of a college warehouse, I haven't quite figured it out.

I jump through more hoops to pay my mortgage payment with a check in the mail (I had to go buy stamps and an envelope) (late, but they assure me there's no penalty, but are you sure.)

^This has all been about 2 weeks. btw.

(I get a therapist, and find my way to being seen by a psychiatrist, which I guess is good but jesus is it $$$. Still figuring out how to use my stupid HSA)

People on floor 1 move out. They've got contractors in constantly renovating the place top to bottom. I get all their paint fumes.

Sound proofing doesn't exist, turns out. I hear my downstairs neighbors' conversations. I hear their tv. I hear street conversations. One night it was pouring rain and I was woken up by the sound of something banging against the house. Like genuinely banging. I go outside and investigate - it's a car idling with their windshield wipers going. Windshield wipers. Why would that be audible. Walls made of paper.

Floor 1 contactors leave the back door open one night. Luckily I wasn't storing anything in the back hall and had the door to my interior locked.

I receive my next month's heating bill. $689. I call the gas company and they shrug. I call the plumber and he shrugs. I turn the heat way down cuz I don't know. I dunno. Something's wrong with the boiler but it just got serviced so I dunno. I have to call someone else.

Speak of the devil, cones appear immediately outside my building declaring there's going to be gas line work. For a month. They start with the jackhammers at 8am every weekday. It's gonna be a month. I miss the windshield wipers.

We have a weekend of arctic freeze. -30F windchill. I go down to the basement Sunday morning to do laundry. Floor 1 contractors have outdone themselves by leaving a window open. Pipe had burst in floor 1 and was pouring water down into the basement, totally flooded.

I have to call the plumber, and flag the Floor 2 people about it and they at least find the master water shutoff. I'm dealing with the plumber and I have no water for half the day and no laundry for me.

I want to lie down in a marsh for a bit.

[scoobydoodean]

Hey there, I have SPN Thought Worms i thought you might appreciate: You know how there’s debate wether (in the biblical story) Abraham “failed” God’s test, if it was a blind loyalty test or to see if he’d put his moral and love over unquestioned orders? In the same vein, do you think Dean truly ‘failed’ Death’s test with the ring and carrying out his duties for the day? Like maybe Death actually wanted Dean to be unable to do it bc it proved he had limits or smth? Or did he just get Sam’s soul back despite the apparent failure because he has a massive soft spot for Dean? (relatable tbh). Hope I made myself clear lol, the concept is jumbled-up in my mind, and have a great day!

This is a really interesting question! I also have a feeling I'll have a lot better of an answer when I get to 6.11 on this rewatch and have the entire season fresh on my mind. That said, Death actually says in the end that the goal was for Dean to learn something.

DEATH Today, you got a hard look behind the curtain. Wrecking the natural order's not quite such fun when you have to mop up the mess, is it? This is hard for you, Dean. You throw away your life because you've come to assume that it'll bounce right back into your lap. But the human soul is not a rubber ball. It's vulnerable, impermanent, but stronger than you know. And more valuable than you can imagine. So... I think you've learned something today. (x)

I'd really like to watch through season 6 again to solidify this one for myself, but I have a feeling that this isn't about teaching Dean a personal moral lesson at all. I don't think Death is at all concerned with the fact that the nurse died because the little girl didn't from a moral perspective—he wouldn't have ever given Dean his ring if he was. That isn't why he said "good" when Dean said he would have acted differently if he could go back. We can guess it also isn't just a simple lesson about "bringing each other back" being bad and "letting go", because that'd be pretty hypocritical given Death is going to help Dean anyway with no one forcing his hand (and he tells us Dean has use). It isn't a moral issue Death's addressing. It's a lesson he's giving on the structure of the universe. It's about balance. As Death says cryptically later in the scene:

I think what Death wanted to get across to Dean is that souls must pass on, and their energy must be allotted to the appropriate areas in time and space. If one person doesn't die, passing their soul on as energy, another person must die so that a certain balance and energy level is maintained in the universe. Death plans to help Dean from the beginning, because "Right now, you're digging at something. The intrepid Detective. I want you to keep digging, Dean."

Death, as a person who can't ultimately involve himself without also disrupting balance, is ultimately hinting at Dean as best he knows how that he wants him to stop Crowley and Cas from sucking a bunch of souls out of Purgatory, creating absolute chaos. But he can't say that, so instead, he gives Dean a lesson. He tells Dean that human souls are extremely valuable, and that they need to go to the places the universe wants them to go and stay there. If they don't—if they are moved on a large scale—something terrible will happen. Death has to expect Dean to extrapolate all of this information, which is not an easy expectation to fulfill.

So I guess to summarize: I don't think Dean failed Death's test, because actually using the ring and experiencing what happened when Dean tried to change things was more of a lesson than a test. The test was how Dean reflected on the lesson after and evaluated his behavior. He passed when he said he'd behave differently if he could go back. Death wanted Dean to understand the idea of balance in the universe depending on where souls go, and how important it is not to disrupt their flow or move them around. Changing things makes bad things happen. When there's just one soul, the impact is small (something Death is willing to let Dean toy with by offering his ring for the day). But what if someone disrupted the flow of many many souls at once?

[cookinguptales]

God, so. This is a story I haven't told in a while, so it'll probably be new to a lot of my followers.

This morning I got my kudos email and saw one for a fic I didn't recognize. I puzzled over this for a few minutes, then clicked on it and immediately remembered everything I'm about to tell you.

"Oh right," I said. "This is what happened the last time I fell down a research rabbit hole while writing original fiction."

The long and short of it is this: I used to do a Halloween fic exchange every year, and one year someone requested "dinosaur ghost." I was immediately like "that sounds fun!" and then, approximately three seconds later, remembered an article I'd read recently.

(This is me, unfortunately.)

A long time ago, there was this kind of mad rush for dinosaur skeletons to put in museums. (The Bone Wars, if you're familiar.) The Carnegie Museum ended up finding an Apatosaurus skeleton, but at that time, no one knew what that skeleton was supposed to look like. The researchers argued quite a bit about it and, despite the fact that they'd actually found the correct skull during the dig, attached the cast of a skull of a Camarasaurus to it instead. This skeleton had the wrong skull for decades until the mistake was realized and eventually switched out for the right skull in the 1970s.

This left me with an appealing, sort of whimsically romantic idea: what would it be like, if dinosaur bones are haunted? And what would it be like if two ghosts were being forced to inhabit the same dinosaur skeleton?

So I decided that I wanted to write this story about this mismatched skeleton and the ghosts that haunted it, but in order to do that properly, I had to find out what happened to that Camarasaurus skull after the Apatosaurus was properly reassembled.

Friends, I fell down the fucking rabbit hole. I looked at the museum's website. I was looking in journals. I was on Google looking at families' vacation photos so I could get a better look at the exhibits in the museum.

I was down bad.

In the end, I gave in and emailed the museum. Like... this is a weird question, but is there anyone who could tell me what happened to the Camarasaurus skull that used to be on display with the Apatosaurus?

I wasn't expecting a reply, really. Maybe an intern would email me back with an apology. If I got really lucky, a docent might actually know what I was talking about.

Imagine my surprise when I get back an email from an actual fucking paleontologist. He is not just happy to tell me what happened -- he is thrilled. He was excited that someone was even asking these questions, and I didn't even almost have the heart to tell him why I'd asked.

Now... I'll take a moment here to say that I am actually interested in museum studies. I'm super interested in the way we teach science, the way we teach science history, and the history of how we've taught that history. I took classes on it in college, in fact. I tried to take paleontology, too. I even took all the preqs and everything. I just couldn't get it into my schedule in the end.

So when a literal fucking paleontologist emails me to talk to me about these things, I sit up in my seat. I want to seem like I am On The Level. I reply to this man with my academic email address.

OH MY GOSH, he says. YOU WENT TO PENN? I WENT TO PENN!

Oh no. Oh no. I am in too deep. I am in way too deep. This kind, charmingly enthusiastic paleontologist cannot know that I am writing a quasi-homoerotic dinosaur ghost love story. He can't.

So I talk to him about my own field of study because I desperately want to sound like a real scholar and not like this is research for my AO3 account. (Even though it is.) We have a very nice conversation. He tells me everything I need to know and then some.

Apparently, I was right when I'd suspected that I'd seen a Camarasaurus skull in some of the photos of the exhibit. He was pleased I'd noticed. But it wasn't the same one that was on display with the Apatosaurus skeleton.

The real Apatosaurus skull was too fragile to be put on display, so they made a cast of it instead and mounted that on the skeleton in the exhibit. The real skull is being kept in the Big Bone Room, which is what they call their fossil storage. The cast of the Camarasaurus skull? Even though it was just a cast, it was still kept for posterity. It is also being stored in the BBR along with the skull of the Apatosaurus. And the real Camarasaurus skull that the cast was based on is now displayed near the Apatosaurus skeleton in the exhibit.

So both parts of the skeleton are now with a new version of their old friend, and they'll never be alone again. I don't think I could have designed a more romantic, bittersweet ending if I'd tried.

I write my fic. It's lovely, in my opinion, and exactly what I wanted it to be. It's about love and friendship and the sort of wistful affection you feel for friends who have gone and those you have just met.

I do not speak to the paleontologist again.

To this day, I am deeply relieved that he never found out what I was up to, but also sort of curious to know if he would've liked it if he'd read it. I took some extreme scientific liberties while writing my quasi-f/f dinosaur ghost fic (shocking, I know) so probably not. lmao

You never know, though! Some academics are into some super weird shit! Like me!

So I guess I always feel kind of wistful about the fic, too.

Anyway... Here's the Carnegie Museum's page about the Apatosaurus/Camarasaurus skeleton.

And here's the story I wrote about them:

Something Borrowed 💜🦕