#she design just didn't really click with me i guess

[xxiamrainxx]

Have a quick little Teagan doodle because I love her <3

I'll probably end up making some changes to their design in the future, but for now I love how they turned out. I am at least a little in lesbians with them, lol.

[barnacles34]

Professional Hazard (And Blue Tongues)

Karina x Male Reader

9k words

18+ smut

'I expected you to have...'

'Grey hair? Glasses thick as tank armor?' You lean back. 'Let me guess—ancient and decrepit?'

'Something like that.' She toys with her iced americano, ice cubes clinking.

'Get that more than you'd think.'

'Can't imagine why.'

'Sure you can't.'

She straightens in her chair. 'Well? Are you going to ask your questions or what?'

'Did you have something specific in mind?'

'I thought you'd at least come prepared.' The sharp edge in her voice softens, adapting. 'After that email you sent.'

'I am prepared.'

'Do you know who I am?'

'I know you're Karina. I know you agreed to fund my little Italian vacation.' You keep your voice flat, unimpressed.

She laughs, short and sharp. 'They really sent someone who knows nothing.'

'Biographers aren't exactly growing on trees these days. Most of them are busy dying off.' [1]

'That's comforting.'

'About as comforting as your enthusiastic response to my email.'

'Ah.' She smirks. 'My monument to hubris?'

'Your words, not mine.'

'Christ, you're not exactly sunshine and roses, are you?'

'If only you knew.'

'Oh, I think I do.' She leans forward. 'People like me—we're your bread and butter. Desperate enough to take the abuse just to get that book written.'

'Quick study.'

'Experience, darling.' She draws out the last word like stretched taffy.

'If immortality's what you're after, we're off to a rocky start.'

'Not even grateful for the Italian holiday?'

You meet her eyes. 'Bribery's nothing new. Don't expect it to polish your image.'

'Tough nut to crack, aren't you?'

'I have what I need.'

'Meaning?'

'Let me put this delicately: my last subject bought me a year at New York's finest.' [2]

'Fantastic.' She rattles her ice cubes harder.

'You know what I think?' She sets down her drink with deliberate care.

'Enlighten me.'

'I think you enjoy this. The whole "unimpressed biographer" act.'

You pull out your notebook, unhurried. 'That'd make a great chapter one. "Local girl psychoanalyzes writer, lives to regret it."'

'There it is again.' Her smile doesn't reach her eyes. 'Tell me, do your subjects usually last long enough for chapter two?'

'The interesting ones do.'

'And the boring ones?'

You flip open to a blank page. 'They get a lovely rejection letter.'

'Which I didn't.'

'Yet.'

She leans back, studying you. The late afternoon sun catches the edge of her glass, throwing prismatic shapes across the table. 'You really don't care that I could walk away right now.'

'The door's right there.' You click your pen. 'But we both know you won't.'

'Because?'

'Because you didn't spend three months negotiating with my publisher just to storm off over hurt feelings.'

'Maybe I just like wasting time.'

'Maybe.' You meet her gaze. 'But people who like wasting time don't usually have a dozen designer brand sponsorships.'

Something shifts in her expression—surprise, maybe, or respect. 'So you did do your homework.'

'I always do.' You position your pen over the blank page. 'Now, shall we begin with the real questions?'

'Shoot.' She shifts in her chair, the late afternoon sun warming the cafe corner we've claimed.

'Tell me about your sister.'

Her eyebrows lift slightly. 'Not starting with the obvious questions?'

'Would you prefer those?'

'No.' She smiles, genuine this time. 'She's a nurse. Like our mom.'

'Close?'

'Very. She's the only person who still calls me Jimin.' She stirs her americano. 'Probably the only person who can get away with it, too.'

'Why's that?'

'Because she knew me when I was just the quiet kid who'd rather read in corners than talk to anyone. Before all of...' She waves her hand vaguely. 'This.'

'Still prefer corners?'

'Sometimes.' She considers the question. 'There's this tiny bookstore in Seongnam. When I go home, I still visit. They have this perfect spot by the window.'

'What do you read?'

'Whatever catches my eye. Last week it was about sharks.'

You raise an eyebrow. 'Sharks?'

'Don't look so surprised.' She laughs. 'They're fascinating. Everyone thinks they know them, but they don't, not really.'

'Speaking from experience?'

She takes a long sip of her drink instead of answering.

'You don't have to do that, you know.' You set your pen down.

'Do what?'

'Deflect. Turn everything into a metaphor.'

She meets your eyes for a long moment. 'Force of habit.'

'Bad one.'

'Says the person who's been matching my deflections word for word.' A half-smile plays at her lips. 'We're quite the pair, aren't we?'

'Difference is, I'm paid to be difficult.'

'And I was raised to be.' The words slip out before she can catch them. Her fingers tighten around her glass.

You wait.

'You're good at this,' she says quietly.

'At what?'

'Making silence comfortable.' She looks out the window. 'Most people try to fill it.'

'Most people aren't trying to understand.'

She turns back to you, something shifting in her expression. 'Is that what you're trying to do? Understand?'

'Would that be so terrible?'

'No,' she says.

'Progress.' You pick up your pen again. 'Though I've just realized something deeply troubling.'

'What's that?'

'Your americano's been empty for ten minutes, and you're still pretending to drink it.'

She glances at her glass, caught. 'Method acting.'

'Ah yes, the classic "I'm too invested in this conversation to pause for a refill" performance.' You wave to catch the barista's eye. 'Oscar-worthy.'

'Says the person who hasn't touched their...' She leans forward to peek at your cup. 'What even is that?'

'Green tea.'

'Pretentious.'

'Says the person who ordered an iced americano in winter.'

'It's barely spring.'

'Case in point.'

The barista arrives with fresh drinks. Karina raises an eyebrow at your cup. 'Still green tea?'

'I'm consistent.'

'Boring.'

'Strategic.' You take a deliberate sip. 'Can't blame caffeine jitters for whatever honesty slips out.'

'Sneaky.'

'Professional.'

'Same thing.' She stirs her new drink, ice cubes clinking. 'So what's next in your strategic interrogation?'

'Thought we agreed to drop the deflection thing.'

'Old habits. Ten seconds at a time.'

'That's oddly specific.'

'It's how I learned to swim.' At your questioning look, she continues, 'Ten seconds of courage. Then you can panic all you want.'

'Does that work?'

'Got me here, didn't it?' She gestures between you two. 'Letting a stranger with a notebook and suspiciously consistent beverage choices pick apart my life.'

'You could always run.'

'To where? Croatia?' She laughs at your surprised expression. 'What? I have dreams.'

'Of Croatia specifically?'

'Of anywhere that doesn't know my name.'

'That's rather poetic for someone who just called me pretentious.'

'I contain multitudes.' She mock-bows in her seat.

'Walt Whitman now?'

'See? You're not the only one who can be insufferably well-read.'

You make a show of writing something down. 

You flip to a fresh page. 'Tell me about Croatia.'

'Nothing to tell. Just a place.'

'There are plenty of places that don't know your name. Why that one?'

She traces the rim of her glass again, a habit you've started to recognize as her thinking gesture. 'Have you ever seen those old coastal towns? The ones with narrow streets and buildings that look like they're having conversations with each other?'

'Been to a few.'

'I want to get lost in one.' She looks up. 'Properly lost. No GPS, no itinerary. Just... walking until my feet decide to stop.'

'Most people want to be found.'

'Most people haven't spent years being findable.' The sharpness in her voice surprises both of you. She softens it with a smile. 'Sorry. That sounded more dramatic than intended.'

'Don't apologize. It's the first time you've stopped performing since we sat down.'

'I haven't been—' She stops. Laughs. 'Okay. Point taken.'

'Progress. Again.'

'You're keeping score?'

'Always.' You tap your notebook. 'It's kind of the whole point.'

'And how am I doing?'

'In being honest or deflecting?'

'Both.'

'You're averaging about fifty-fifty.'

'Generous scoring.'

'Strategic encouragement.'

'You're good at that.' She stretches slightly. 'Making people think they're in control of the conversation.'

'Are you not?'

'Please. We both know you've been steering this ship since you sat down.' She pauses. 'Though I will say, you're the first interviewer who hasn't asked about my routine yet.'

'Your routine?'

'You know. "What time do you wake up? What's your skincare regimen? How many hours do you practice?" That whole song and dance.'

'Would you like me to ask?'

'God no.' She grins. 'But I'm curious why you haven't.'

'Because routines are what people do. I'm more interested in who they are.'

'And who am I?'

'Still figuring that out. But I know you crack your knuckles when you're nervous.'

She stops mid-crack, caught. 'Observant.'

'Professional hazard.' You lean forward. 'Tell me something real. Not about routines or schedules or practices.'

'Like what?'

'Like what you think about at three AM when you can't sleep.'

She's quiet for a long moment. 'Sometimes I forget what my natural speaking voice sounds like.'

'What do you mean?'

'You spend so many years modulating everything—your voice, your laugh, your reactions—until one day...' She shrugs. 'One day you catch yourself using your "public" voice to order coffee at 3 AM in an empty convenience store, and you realize you can't remember what you used to sound like.'

'And that bothers you.'

'Wouldn't it bother you? Losing something that fundamental without even noticing it was gone?'

'Is that why we're here? Trying to find it again?'

'Maybe.' She smiles, but it's different now. Unpolished. 'Or maybe I'm just tired of having "public" and "private" versions of everything.'

'Including your voice.'

'Including my entire existence.'

'Right.' You snap your notebook shut. 'We're getting gelato.'

—

[1] The suspicious rate at which biographers are "dying off" has become something of an industry joke. Three prominent biographers mysteriously retired after attempting to write about a certain K-pop company's CEO. Totally not suspicious.

[2] The Plaza Hotel, to be specific. Said subject was a tech billionaire whose autobiography mysteriously never made it to print. The hotel suite, however, maintains legendary status among New York's housekeeping staff for its impressive collection of empty green tea bottles and rejection letters.

—

She blinks. 'What?'

'We're walking.' You stand, gathering your things. 'Unless you have somewhere to be?'

'Are you actually asking, or is this another strategic move?'

'Both. Neither. Whatever. Does it matter if there's gelato involved?'

A genuine laugh escapes her. 'Fair point.'

The early evening air hits your faces as you step outside. She pulls on a cap—more habit than disguise.

'Left or right?' you ask.

'You're the one who lives here.'

'Technically, I've been here three days.'

'And you already know where to get gelato?'

'First thing I do in any city. Professional secret.'

'Ah yes, the biographer's handbook. Chapter One: locate ice cream immediately.'

'Chapter Two: never reveal your sources.' You turn left. 'Unless they're wearing a questionably large cap and hiding from their own voice.'

'Low blow.' But she's grinning. 'Also, my cap is perfectly sized.'

'For what? Smuggling library books?'

'That's... oddly specific.'

'Says the person who just quoted Walt Whitman in a cafe.'

You find the gelato place tucked between a bookstore and a vintage shop. The owner, an elderly Italian woman, lights up at your approach.

'Due?' she asks.

'Sì,' you reply, then turn to Karina. 'What's your poison?'

She studies the flavors intently. 'What's the most unusual one?'

'Professional or personal answer?'

'There's a difference?'

'Professional would be something elegant. Personal...' You point to a vivid blue flavor. 'That one tastes like your childhood imaginary friend made a pact with a Smurf.'

She doesn't hesitate. 'Two scoops of that, please.'

'Really?'

'What?' She raises an eyebrow. 'Scared of a little blue tongue?'

'More scared of what my editor will say when the interview notes are stained cerulean.'

Ten minutes later, you're both leaning against a stone wall, gelato dripping in the warm evening air. Her tongue is, indeed, impressively blue.

'Yah! Why are you taking a picture?”

'Your tongue. I need photographic evidence for my editor.'

She complains, ‘self-respecting people would’ve walked a long time ago.’

‘And let me guess-’

‘Correct. Take a picture if you want.’

'Pulitzer worthy.' You take another bite of your considerably more dignified pistachio. 'So tell me about the sharks.'

'You're still on that?'

'You brought up marine biology in a cafe and then mysteriously changed the subject. I'm invested now.'

'There's nothing mysterious about it.' She licks a drop of blue from her knuckle. 'I just think they're neat.'

'That's the worst deflection yet.'

'Fine.' She pushes off the wall, starting to walk. 'When I was younger, I used to think they were lonely.'

You fall into step beside her. 'Sharks?'

'Mm. Always swimming, never stopping. Everyone afraid of them.' She shrugs. 'Stupid kid logic.'

'And now?'

'Now I think they're just... misunderstood.' She grins. 'That was terrible, wasn't it? Like a bad movie line.'

'Terrible. But honest.'

'You and your honesty fetish.'

'Says the person who just admitted to emotionally relating to sharks.'

She snorts, nearly dropping her cone. 'When you put it that way—'

'Oh, I'm definitely putting it that way. It's going in the book.'

'Absolutely not.'

'Chapter title: "The Shark Whisperer”. I can see it already'

She tries to hip-check you, but you dodge, protecting your gelato. 'I'm revoking your creative license.'

'Too late. The mental image of baby Jimin crying over shark documentaries is seared into my brain.'

'I did not cry over—' She stops. 'Okay, maybe once. But it was a very sad documentary.' [1]

The sun is setting now, painting the cobblestones gold. You pass a street musician playing something soft and acoustic.

'Your sister know about the sharks?'

'Of course. She bought me the books.' Her smile turns fond. 'Still does, actually. Sends them to me randomly.'

'Recent ones?'

'Last week.' She finishes her cone. 'She has... interesting timing.'

'Interesting timing?'

'Mm.' She wipes her hands on a napkin. 'Right after I told her about the interview. She sent me one about great whites. Said something about facing fears.'

'Subtle.'

'About as subtle as your interview techniques.' She eyes your notebook, still tucked away. 'Not writing anymore?'

'Memory's better when I'm walking.' You tap your temple. 'Also, harder to write about blue tongues while walking.'

'Still blue?'

'Devastatingly so.'

She sticks her tongue out at a passing window, checking her reflection. 'Oh god, it's worse than I thought.'

'Crisis?'

'Please. I once had to perform with my hair half-green because of a dye mishap. This?' She gestures to her mouth. 'This is nothing.'

'Half-green?'

'Not going in the book.'

'Already mentally drafting the chapter.'

She groans. 'I'm starting to regret this whole walking thing.'

'Because of the blackmail material or the exercise?'

'Both. Neither.' She pauses by a small fountain. 'It's just... nice.'

'Nice?'

'Yeah.' She sits on the fountain's edge. 'No schedule. No plan. Just... walking and talking and eating questionably colored gelato with a stranger who probably thinks I'm having a quarter-life crisis.'

'Are you?'

'Having a crisis or eating gelato?'

'Now who's deflecting?' 

And she pauses again, caught.

She dips her fingers in the fountain water, watching the ripples. 'Maybe I just wanted one normal evening. One conversation that wasn't prepackaged and pre-approved.'

'Mission accomplished, I'd say. Your tongue is literally blue.'

That startles a laugh out of her. 'You're never letting that go, are you?'

'It's going to be a running metaphor throughout the book. Deep, meaningful parallels between blue gelato and the human condition.'

'You're terrible at your job.'

'I'm excellent at my job. I got you to walk around Rome with blue teeth.'

'Is that the measure of success?'

'For this chapter? Absolutely.'

The street lamps are starting to flicker on, and the air has that peculiar Roman evening warmth that begs for a drink.

'Know any good bars?' she asks, as if reading your mind.

'Thought you'd never ask[2]. Fair warning though—my Italian's terrible.'

'Better or worse than your interview skills?'

'Much worse. But I can order Aperol Spritz in seventeen different ways.'

'Useful life skill.'

'More useful than relating to sharks.'

She shoves your shoulder lightly. 'One more shark joke and I'm leaving.'

'No, you're not.'

'No, I'm not.' She grins. 'Lead the way, worst Italian speaker.'

You find a tiny place tucked away from the main streets. The kind tourists don't know about, with mismatched chairs and a bartender who looks old enough to have served Caesar himself.

'Due aperol spritz, per favore.' You ask.

The bartender raises an eyebrow. 'Americano? Il tuo italiano è buono!' (your Italian was… apparently… good.)

'Peggio,' you say. 'Giornalista' 

(‘Worse. Journalist.’)

He laughs, already reaching for glasses. Karina slides onto a barstool, looking around with genuine curiosity.

‘He seems pretty impressed by your Italian.’

‘Oh trust me—he wasn’t. He just wanted to be nice. That’s all. The inflections are quite easy to catch.’

‘Alright, whatever you say. Giornalista—.'

You grin at her cute prod.

'How'd you find this place?' She asks; needless to say, she likes it here.

'Got lost my first night here––five years ago. It was either come in or keep pretending I knew where my hotel was.'

'And?'

'Woke up knowing exactly where my hotel was. And how to say "I'm sorry" in Italian.'

She laughs. 'That bad?'

'Let's just say there's a reason I stick to green tea now.'

The drinks arrive, vivid orange against the dark wood of the bar.

'To blue tongues,' you raise your glass.

'And bad Italian,' she clinks hers against it.

—

[1] The documentary in question was "Blue Planet II." Her sister still has the receipt for three boxes of tissues and a plush shark from the aquarium gift shop. The plush shark now sits in her studio, wearing a tiny version of her debut outfit. Her company has tried to mass-produce it twice. She's vetoed it both times.

[2] You were never this humble about your Italian until you talked to an Italian nonna. "Qui giace la dignità di un giornalista" (Here lies a journalist's dignity).

—

'Speaking of bad decisions—'

'We weren't.'

'We are now. Tell me about the green hair incident.'

'Absolutely not.' She takes another sip of her spritz. 'Some secrets I'm taking to my grave.'

'Come on. Half-green hair? There's got to be a story there.'

'There is. A great one. You're still not hearing it.'

'I'll trade you.'

'Oh?' She turns on her stool to face you fully. 'What could you possibly have that's worth my green hair story?'

'Remember when I said I learned to say sorry in Italian?'

'The plot thickens.'

'Let's just say it involved a fountain, three angry nuns, and a very patient carabinieri.'

She nearly chokes on her drink. 'You're making that up.'

'Want to bet your green hair story on it?'

'You know what?' She signals the bartender for another round. 'Fine. But if you're lying, you're buying drinks for the rest of the night.'

'Deal.'

'And no taking notes.'

'Now that's just cruel.'

'Professional hazard,' she mimics your earlier tone, then grins. 'Okay, storyteller. Dazzle me.'

The bartender sets down fresh drinks, and you lean in conspiratorially. 'So picture this: my first night in Rome, about five years ago...'

'Wait.' She holds up a hand. 'We need to establish stakes. If this story doesn't involve all three elements—fountain, nuns, and police—you're not only buying drinks, you're telling me where you actually learned to say sorry in Italian.'

'Counter-offer. If my story checks out, I get the green hair story plus whatever happened at that music show in Busan.'

Her eyes narrow. 'What music show in Busan?'

'The one you just reacted to.'

'That's... that's actually impressive.'

'Five years of professional nosiness at work. Deal?'

She clinks her glass against yours. 'Deal. Now stop stalling.'

'Right. So. Five years ago. I'd just finished an interview with this ancient countess at the bar. I mean, it’s the bar. Who else gets to interview a countess at a bar? That’s like crazy Bourdain-level shit right there.’

She nods along. 'Of course you did.'

'Anyway, she invited me to this wine cellar...'

'Oh no.'

'Oh yes. And mind you, I was already quite drunk. And she was very, very insistent about hospitality...'

Twenty minutes and much laughter later, you finish: '...and that's why you should never trust Google Translate to help you apologize to Italian law enforcement.'

She's wiping tears from her eyes. 'The part with the cat—'

'Hand to god. Still have the scars.'

'Okay.' She catches her breath. 'Okay, you win. That was worth it.'

'Time to pay up. Green hair. Spill.'

'Can I have one more drink first?'

'For courage?'

'So I can blame it on the drink.' She waves at the bartender. 'I still can't believe you showed those nuns your interview notes to prove you weren't a street performer.'

'Desperate times.'

'Speaking of desperate...' She takes a fortifying sip of her fresh spritz. 'Ever tried to fix green hair with grape juice?'

'No.'

'Don't.'

'There has to be more to this story than grape juice.'

'Oh, there's so much more.' She settles into her seat. 'Picture this: it's two hours before a live broadcast. I'm sitting in the makeup chair, feeling pretty good about life. You know, like that particular moment where your face just… shines. Then my stylist walks in, takes one look at my hair, and just... screams.'

'Screams?'

'Full horror movie scream. Turns out the hair dye we used was... let's say "not exactly approved by management."'

'Let me guess. DIY job?'

'Worse. My sister's friend's cousin who "totally went to beauty school."'

'Oh no.' You snort, taking a hefty drink of the remaining spritz.

'Oh yes. So there I am, one side of my head this bizarre shade of swamp-thing green, and everyone's running around like it's the end of the world.'

'Which is when someone suggested grape juice?'

'Actually, that was my idea.' She grimaces. 'I'd read somewhere that grape juice could neutralize green tones. What they failed to mention was that this works for swimming pools, not hair.' [1]

'So what happened?'

'Picture a very expensive wig, three cans of dry shampoo, and me trying to explain to the camera director why I couldn't turn my head to the left.'

'Did it work?'

'Define "work."' She takes another sip. 'If by "work" you mean "did I make it through the broadcast without anyone seeing the grape-juice-tinged disaster," then yes. If by "work" you mean "did I maintain any dignity," then absolutely not.'

'The fans never found out?'

'Oh, they did. Someone leaked a backstage photo three months later.' She grins. 'By then I'd managed to fix it. Mostly.'

'Mostly?'

'My sister still has a strand of green hair she saved. Threatens to post it whenever I don't answer her calls.'

'Effective.'

'Terrifying.' She raises her glass. 'Your turn again. What's the worst interview you've ever done?'

'Besides this one?'

She kicks your chair. 'I'm delightful and you know it.'

'You're something, all right.'

Three drinks in, and the bar's emptied enough that her laugh echoes a little too loudly. She covers her mouth, but it's too late – the old bartender shoots them an amused look.

'Sorry,' she stage-whispers.

'For what? The laugh or the fact that it just shattered three ancient Roman wine glasses?'

'Shut up.' She kicks your chair again. 'I don't always laugh like that.'

'Let me guess – there's a public laugh and a private laugh?'

'There's a whole taxonomy.' She sits up straighter, counting on her fingers. 'Interview laugh, variety show laugh, fan meeting laugh, oh-that's-not-actually-funny-but-you're-my-sunbae laugh—'

'Please tell me you're joking.'

'I wish.' She slumps forward, head on her arms. 'I once had to attend a laughing seminar.'

'A what now?'

'A laughing seminar. Professional instruction on the art of the public giggle.' Her voice is muffled against her sleeve. 'There was a PowerPoint and everything.'

'You're making this up.'

She lifts her head. 'I spent three hours learning about laugh-adjacent breathing techniques while a woman named Mrs. Kim hit a triangle every time someone laughed "inappropriately."'

You stare at her. She stares back.

'That's the most horrifying thing I've ever heard,' you say finally.

'I know.' She dissolves into another too-loud laugh, this one definitely not seminar-approved. 'God, I can still hear that triangle.'

'Is that why you're here?'

'Getting drunk with a biographer in Rome? No, that's just poor life choices.'

'Speaking honest truths to a stranger?'

'Oh.' She straightens up, but there's still something loose in her smile. 'Maybe. Or maybe I just really needed to tell someone about Mrs. Kim and her triangle of terror.'

'Triangle of terror.' You shake your head. 'That's going in the book.'

'Along with the blue tongue and green hair? You're really painting a picture here.'

'It's called character development.'

'It's called character assassination.' She signals for water. 'What else are you putting in there?'

'Wouldn't you like to know.'

'Actually, yes. That's literally why I'm asking.'

'Fine.' You pretend to flip through your mental notes. 'Chapter One: Sharks and Empathy—'

'Oh my god.'

'Chapter Two: The Grape Juice Incident—'

'I'm starting to regret everything.'

'Chapter Three: Laugh Taxonomies by Aespa’s Karina—'

'I hate you.'

'Chapter Four: Why Romans Don't Trust Her With Fountains Anymore—'

'That was you! That was literally your story!'

'Was it? Everything's getting a bit fuzzy.' You tap your temple. 'Must be all that professional memory I was bragging about earlier.'

She throws an olive at you. The bartender clears his throat.

'Sorry,' you both say in unison, then look at each other and start laughing again.

'You know what's really funny?' she says, once you've both contained yourselves.

'Mrs. Kim's triangle?'

'Besides that.' She accepts the water from the bartender. 'This is probably the worst interview you've ever done.'

'Oh, definitely.'

'And yet...'

'And yet?'

'It's the most honest one I've given.' She pauses. 'God, that sounded way less cheesy in my head. Must be the spritz talking.'

'Blame it on the altitude.'

'We're at sea level.'

'Blame it on the sea level.'

'You're ridiculous.' She's grinning though. 'Is this how all your interviews go?'

'Usually there's less gelato. More gravitas.'

'Gravitas is overrated.'

'Says the woman who attended a laughing seminar.'

'Hey, I'll have you know my triangle-approved giggle is very dignified.'

'Prove it.'

She sits up straighter, arranges her features into something serene, and lets out the most artificial laugh you've ever heard. It's so pristine it's almost disturbing.

'That was horrifying.'

'That was three hours of professional training.'

'I'm concerned about your profession.'

'Join the club.' She relaxes back into her natural posture. 'We have meetings every Tuesday. Bring your own triangle.'

The bartender slides over the check with a knowing look. Last call came and went without either of you noticing.

'Well,' you say, reaching for your wallet. 'I suppose this is—'

'Wait.' She puts her hand on your arm. 'I have a confession.'

'Another one? The green hair wasn't enough?'

'I read your book.'

'Which one?'

'The one about the ballet dancer who quit to become a motorcycle mechanic.'

'Ah.' You sit back. 'And?'

'And I maybe, possibly, completely changed my mind about this whole interview when I read it.'

'Because?'

'Because...' She fidgets with her empty glass. 'You made her sound so... human.'

'As opposed to?'

'A story. A headline.' She traces a pattern on the bar top. 'Most people would've written about the scandal, the career she "threw away." But you wrote about how she names each motorcycle she fixes. How she still dances in her garage at midnight.'

'Ah. That.'

'That.' She looks up. 'Is that why you haven't asked me about any of it?'

'Any of what?'

'Don't play dumb. The headlines. The speculation. The—'

'The triangle-approved responses you've probably rehearsed?'

She laughs, caught. 'Something like that.'

'Here's the thing about headlines.' You start gathering your things. 'They're usually more interesting than the truth.'

'And what's the truth?'

'That sometimes people just want to eat blue gelato and tell embarrassing stories in a bar and talk a biographer’s ears off.'

She kicks your chair again, barely noticeable. 'Even if those stories end up in a book?'

'Especially then.' You stand, offering her jacket. 'Though I might need you to sign a waiver about the grape juice incident.'

'I knew it! You are using it!'

'Chapter title: "The Perils of Amateur Chemistry: A Cautionary Tale."'

She shrugs on her jacket, shaking her head. 'You're impossible. That AI flair was so intentional'

'Says the woman who legitimately attended a laughing seminar.'

'I'm never living that down, am I?'

'Not as long as I have a functioning memory and a publishing contract.'

The Roman night is warm as you both step out of the bar. She stumbles slightly on the cobblestones.

You offer a hand which she quickly grabs.

'Don't you dare put that in the book,' she warns.

'Put what? The graceful interpretation of contemporary dance you just performed?'

'These streets are rigged.' She steadies herself. 'Also, your hotel's this way.'

'How do you know where my hotel is?' You’re not exactly one to remember locations, probably the reason you were able to gain such a repository of ridiculous stories.

'Because it's my hotel.' She grins at your expression. 'What? You think you're the only one who does research?'

'I'm concerned about your stalking tendencies.'

'Says the person who somehow knew about the Busan incident.'

'Professional hazard.'

'You really need new catchphrases.'

The walk is quiet, comfortable. Rome at night feels like a different city—all golden lights and shadow play. A cat watches you pass from its perch on a window sill.

'Don't even think about it,' she says.

'About what?'

'Making some poetic comparison between me and that cat.'

'Please. I'm a much better writer than that.'

'Sure you are, shark whisperer.'

You reach the hotel entrance. She pauses.

'Well,' she says. 'This has been...'

'Professionally catastrophic?'

'I was going to say enlightening.'

'That too.'

The hotel lobby is all marble and soft lighting. Your footsteps echo slightly.

'I have a balcony,' she says suddenly. 'And a really pretentious coffee machine I can't figure out.'

'Is this a cry for help with appliances?' 

'This is...' She fidgets with her room key. 'This is me not wanting the interview to end yet.'

'The interview ended somewhere between blue gelato and the triangle story.'

'Then what's this?'

‘Believe or not, some people just like having fun on their Italian vacation.’

‘Haha. Very funny.’

'This is...' You pretend to consider. 'Two people who might be friends if one of them wasn't writing a book about the other.'

'Complicated.'

'Professional hazard.'

'There's that phrase again.' She presses the elevator button. 'Come on. I'll teach you how to laugh properly.'

'With or without the triangle?'

She steps into the elevator. 'Depends on how good you are at making coffee.'

'Now who's the impossible one?'

The doors start to close. She holds them.

'Coming?'

You join her in the elevator. 'For the record, I'm excellent at coffee.'

'For the record,' she mimics your tone, 'that's going in the book.'

Her room is on the top floor, with a view that makes you understand why people write poetry about Rome.

'So,' she says, fighting with the coffee machine. 'This button makes it angry, and this one makes it hiss.'

'Move over, amateur.' You reach around her to press a combination of buttons. The machine purrs to life.

'Show off.' But she's smiling as she heads for the balcony. 'Bring your coffee wizardry out here when it's ready.'

The balcony is small, just enough room for two chairs and all of Rome spread out below. She's curled up in one chair, shoes off, looking more real than she has all day.

'Your professional opinion,' she says as you hand her a cup. 'Is this going to be a good book?'

'Depends.'

'On?'

'On whether you let me keep the shark metaphors.'

She laughs into her coffee. 'You're never letting that go.'

'Never.' You take the other chair. 'Though I might be willing to negotiate.'

'Terms?'

'Tell me something nobody knows. Something that won't make the book.'

She's quiet for a moment, looking out at the city lights. 'I sing in the shower.'

'Everybody knows that.'

'No, I mean...' She turns to face you. 'I sing the old songs. The ones I used to practice when I was just some kid in Bundang with a dream too big for my voice.'

'And?'

'And sometimes I still feel like her. That kid. Especially at night, in foreign hotels, when the city feels like it belongs to someone else.'

'Especially at night, in foreign hotels, when the city feels like it belongs to someone else.'

'Wow.' You let out a low whistle. 'That was incredibly profound.'

She groans, covering her face. 'I know. I'm sorry. That was straight out of a drama script.'

'I was thinking more indie movie. You know, the kind where people have deep conversations on balconies in Rome at—' you check your watch, '—one in the morning.'

'Oh god, we're living a cliché.'

'Complete with coffee and two chairs overlooking Rome.'

'Quick,' she straightens up, 'say something unprofound. Save us from ourselves.'

'My tongue is still kind of blue.'

She peeks at you over her coffee cup. 'Mine too.'

'Better?'

'Much better.' She slouches back in her chair. 'Though now I'm thinking about how this would look in your book. "Two idiots with blue tongues have existential crisis on expensive balcony."'

'Don't forget the part where one of them somehow charmed a coffee machine.'

'And the other one used to sing in her shower.'

'Still,' you correct. 'Present tense.'

'Still,' she admits. 'But if you put that in your book, I'll have to tell everyone about your fountain incident.'

'Mutually assured destruction. I like it.'

She yawns, then looks embarrassed. 'Sorry. It's not the company, it's—'

'The five Aperol Spritzes?'

'That. And the emotional toll of remembering Mrs. Kim's triangle.'

'Tragic backstory,' you nod solemnly. 'Very character-building.'

'Speaking of character-building...' She sets down her empty cup, turns to face you fully. 'This is usually the part in your books where something significant happens.'

'Is it?'

'Mm. Chapter twelve. Always a turning point.'

'You really did read my books.'

'I told you that already.' She's closer now, somehow. 'What I didn't mention was that I figured out your pattern.'

'My pattern?'

'The way you write moments like this.' Her voice is soft. 'When everything gets quiet, and the city's just background noise, and someone's about to do something...'

'Inadvisable?'

'I was going to say brave.'

'Brave is just inadvisable with better PR.'

She laughs, barely a whisper. 'You're deflecting again.'

'Professional—'

'If you say "hazard" right now,' she cuts in, 'I'm going to throw you off this balcony.'

'That would be...'

'Inadvisable?'

'I was going to say "terrible for my book sales."'

She's definitely closer now. 'Your book sales are about to be the least of your problems.'

'Because you're going to kiss me or throw me off the balcony?'

'I haven't decided yet.'

'Well,' you murmur, 'for what it's worth, one of those options would make a much better chapter twelve.'

She closes the distance between you, smiling against your lips. 'Professional hazard.'

You and Karina shared an instant spark that neither of you had experienced. Ever. The moment that first tease left your mouth, it was over.

—

[1] The sentiment of grape juice being able to eliminate green tones turned out to be completely unfounded. Despite this, wine sommeliers around the world have complained about Koreans with their distinct accent asking about grape juice’s ability to change colors.

—

The kiss tastes like coffee and Aperol and something sweet—probably the remnants of that ridiculous blue gelato. It's soft and quiet and perfect, the kind of moment that would sound made up in a book.

She pulls back slightly. 'Your editor's going to hate this.'

'Definitely.' You tuck a strand of hair behind her ear. 'Completely unprofessional.'

'Thoroughly inadvisable.'

'Absolutely perfect for chapter twelve.'

She kisses you again, and Rome keeps existing below, indifferent to your small moment of magic. Somewhere in the distance, a church bell chimes twice.

'You know,' she whispers, 'this is usually where you'd write something profound about the city of love.'

'That's Paris.'

'Now who's deflecting?'

'Still you. But I'm starting not to mind.'

She laughs, soft and real—definitely not triangle-approved—and rests her forehead against yours, your breaths intermixing, plenty of intimate eye contact. 'Is this going in the book?'

'What do you think?'

'I think...' Her fingers find yours. 'I think some stories we get to keep for ourselves.'

'I think some stories we get to keep for ourselves.'

'Even after I charmed your coffee machine? That's cold.'

She makes a face. 'You're really bringing up coffee machine prowess right after—'

'Right after you thoroughly compromised my journalistic integrity? Yes.'

'Your journalistic integrity was compromised the moment you let me eat blue gelato.'

'My journalistic integrity was compromised the moment I saw you.' You run your thumb across her knuckles.

Her eye contact wavers and her voice falters, ‘Gosh, you’re such a player.’

‘Flirting has never come so easily before.’ You whisper against her mouth.

'Oh really?'

'Obviously.'

'Which was?'

'Stare at that blue tongue some more.’'

She shoves you lightly. 'You're terrible.'

'And yet.'

'And yet.' She settles on your lap, the forehead to forehead more natural now. 'So what happens now?'

'Well, traditionally, this is where I'd write something about dawn breaking over the eternal city—'

'Please don't.'

'—with golden light catching on ancient stones—'

'I'm begging you to stop.'

'—as two souls find each other under the Roman sky—'

She claps a hand over your mouth. 'I will literally pay you to not finish that sentence.'

You kiss her palm before she pulls it away. 'Isn't that technically bribery?'

'Add it to the list. Right after "compromised journalistic integrity" and "suspicious coffee machine expertise."'

'Speaking of compromising situations...' You glance at your watch. 'It's almost three AM.'

'Worried about your reputation?'

'Worried about your triangle-approved schedule.'

'Bold of you to assume I ever sleep.' She stands, stretching. 'Want to order terrible room service and you can tell me about all the other journalists you've scandalized?'

'That's a very short list. Very enticing regardless.’ 

'Good.' She holds out her hand.

The night air has turned cooler, carrying the faint scent of jasmine from somewhere below. Her fingers trace the collar of your shirt, hesitant but deliberate.

'What happened to room service?' you murmur.

'It can wait.' Her eyes meet yours, playful but wanting. 'I'm conducting my own interview first.'

This kiss is different from the first. Slower, more certain. The city hums below, a distant lullaby of late-night cars and echoing footsteps. When she sighs into the kiss, it's the softest sound you've ever heard. When she falters against your forceful touches, it’s the softest you’ve ever felt a woman.

She pulls back just enough to breathe, her forehead resting against yours. Her heartbeat is quick under your palm.

'Better than chapter twelve?' she whispers.

You catch her lips again in answer, feeling her smile. The wind stirs her hair, sending strands brushing against your cheek. Everything smells like jasmine and coffee and her perfume—something subtle and expensive that you'll probably spend the rest of your life over-romanticizing.

Because that’s what Karina deserves.

Rome stretches out endless and ancient around you, but all you can focus on is how perfectly she fits against you, how real she feels away from cameras and crowds.

Your lips find hers in the dark, soft and certain now. Her fingers trail up your neck, threading through your hair, pulling you closer. There's an art to the way she kisses—deliberate yet desperate, like she's trying to memorize the moment. Your hands settle at her waist, and she makes a small sound that you know you'll remember forever.

Her lips part against yours, deepening the kiss until you're both breathless. The balcony railing presses into your back—when did that happen?—and her body is warm against yours, fitting perfectly in all the spaces between.

Her teeth graze your bottom lip, teasing. You respond by trailing kisses along her jaw, feeling her pulse jump under your lips. When you find that sensitive spot just below her ear, her sharp intake of breath makes you smile against her skin.

She pulls back just enough to meet your eyes. Her lips are slightly swollen, her careful composure beautifully undone––hair spread everywhere, but just so that she looks ethereal rather than messy. You brush your thumb across her lower lip, and she catches it with her teeth, playful even now.

‘Still planning to put this in chapter twelve?’ she whispers, breathless.

Your answer gets lost somewhere between her lips and… her lips.

Her laugh vibrates against your lips when you finally break apart. ‘We should probably—’

‘Go inside?’ Your lips find the curve of her neck again.

‘I was going to say breathe.’ But her head tilts back, giving you better access. Her pulse flutters under your kiss like a trapped bird. ‘Though inside works too.’

You pull back just enough to look at her. Hair mussed, eyes bright, that perfect composure completely undone. She's never looked more beautiful than she does right now, with the city lights catching in her eyes and her professional smile nowhere to be found.

‘What?’ she asks, suddenly self-conscious.

‘Just thinking.’

‘About?’

‘How this definitely isn't going in the book.’

Her smile turns mischievous. ‘No?’ Her fingers trace patterns on your chest. ‘Not even a little mention of how you completely forgot about journalistic integrity the moment I—’

‘Then chapter 12 would entirely consist of me betraying my profession in order to catch your lips with my teeth.’

‘Wow. You’re bad. Like, real bad.’

‘You have no idea.’

You cut her off with another kiss, swallowing her laugh. Her hands slide up your chest, around your neck, pulling you impossibly closer. The world narrows to just this: her lips on yours, her body pressed against you, the soft sounds she makes when you run your fingers down her spine.

‘Inside,’ she murmurs against your mouth. ‘Before we really give Rome something to talk about.’

You let her lead you through the balcony doors, both of you stumbling slightly, unwilling to break contact. She tastes like promises now, like stories yet to be written. Her hands are everywhere—your hair, your chest, your face – like she's trying to read you by touch alone.

‘Wait,’ you manage, as her lips find that spot below your ear that makes thinking difficult. ‘What about—’

‘If you mention room service right now,’ she warns, ‘I'm going back to my original plan of throwing you off the balcony.’

‘I was going to say 'what about your triangle-approved image?'’

She pulls back, eyes dancing. ‘Oh, that?’ Her lips brush yours, teasing. ‘I think we thoroughly compromised that at the first meeting.’

"Professional hazard?"

"Shut up," she whispers, and kisses you again.

She sighs into your mouth, a soft, vulnerable sound that makes your heart stutter.

Her fingers tangle in your hair, nails scraping lightly against your scalp, sending shivers down your spine. You walk her backward until she's pressed against the wall, her body arching into yours.

You trail kisses down her neck, learning her— the spot beneath her jaw that makes her gasp, the curve where neck meets shoulder that makes her fingers tighten in your hair. Her pulse races under your lips, a rapid drumbeat that matches your own. When you find a particularly sensitive spot, her sharp intake of breath is the sweetest sound you've ever heard.

She tugs you back up to her mouth, kissing you like she's trying to tell you something words can't capture. Her lips are soft but insistent, moving against yours with a rhythm that makes you dizzy. One of her legs hooks around yours, pulling you even closer, and you groan into her mouth.

Her hands frame your face now, thumbs stroking your cheeks as she kisses you deeper, slower, like she's trying to memorize every second. You respond in kind, pouring everything you can't say into the kiss—how beautiful she is like this, how real, how perfectly she fits against you.

When you finally break apart, you're both breathing hard. Her lips are swollen. You rest your forehead against hers, sharing the same air, neither of you willing to move away.

"Still thinking about the book?" she murmurs, voice husky.

You answer by catching her lower lip between your teeth, gentle but playful, and feel her smile against your mouth.

Her smile against your mouth turns into a soft laugh. "I'll take that as a no."

‘Take it as whatever you want.’ Your lips find her temple, her cheek, the corner of her mouth. ‘I stopped thinking about the book long ago.’

She hums contentedly, her fingers tracing patterns on the nape of your neck. ‘Good.’ Her other hand is still tangled in your shirt, keeping you close. ‘Because I have a confession.’

‘Another one?’

Instead of answering, she kisses you again, slow and deep. Her tongue traces your lower lip, and you respond by pressing her further into the wall, swallowing the small sound she makes. One of her legs is still hooked around yours, and when she shifts slightly, the new angle makes you both gasp.

‘That wasn't a confession,’ you murmur against her lips.

‘No?’ Her teeth graze your earlobe. ‘I thought I was being pretty clear.’

Your hands slide to her waist, steadying her. She's intoxicating like this, all careful control abandoned, her public persona nowhere to be found.

‘Jimin,’ you breathe, and feel her shiver at the sound of her real name.

Her response is to pull you closer, kissing you like she's trying to say everything without words. Her lips are soft but certain against yours, and you lose yourself in the feeling—the warmth of her body, the subtle scent of her perfume.

The city continues its nighttime symphony outside, but in here, the only sound is your shared breathing and the soft, desperate noises she makes when you find that sensitive spot on her neck again.

She pulls back slightly, just enough to meet your eyes. In the dim light, her gaze is soft, unguarded. Her thumb traces your lower lip.

‘What?’ you ask, voice rough.

‘I'm trying to decide something.’

"Whether to throw me off the balcony? Because I thought we moved past—"

She cuts you off with another kiss. Her hands cup your face, holding you there as she explores your mouth with a thoroughness that makes you dizzy. You respond by feeling her firm and perky ass.

‘No—,’ she moans when you break apart for air. ‘I'm trying to decide if this is real.’

Instead of answering, you trail kisses down her neck, feeling her pulse jump under your lips. Her head falls back against the wall, giving you better access. When you reach her collarbone, she makes a sound that's half-sigh, half-moan.

‘Feels real enough,’ you murmur against her skin.

Her laugh is breathy, unsteady. ‘I meant—’ She gasps as you find a particularly sensitive spot. ‘I meant this. Us. This whole night.’

You lift your head to look at her. Her lips are swollen from kissing, her carefully styled hair a mess from your fingers. She's never looked more beautiful.

‘If you think I did all of this for the fun of it, you’re clearly missing something.’

‘A gear in the head?’

‘Definitely—’

‘Gosh, how do I allow this sort of petulance?’

‘Because it’s me.’

‘You’re a player.’

‘Only for you.’ You catch her lips, even more wanting—and she forfeits it all. 

You pick her up, mussing up her perfect outfit, mussing up her perfect lips. And you finally throw her against the bed.

‘You’re really roughing up Prada’s global ambassador.’

‘And ambassador to a dozen other brands worth billions—couldn’t care less.’’ 

She smirks, and her arms open, waiting, pliant, obedient.

You rip off your buttoned shirt, tear off your pants; now, there’s truly no way of going back.

‘Wow. That scar is a lot larger than I imagined.’ She’s referring back to the scar that you received during that drunk haze of a night.

‘It was dark. Might’ve even been a lion.’ 

‘Mm. Heroic. Come here.’

Now, who could ever resist that?

You rip off her clothes, each layer even more decadent than the other. And then, she was there. bra barely containing her breasts, and a layer of dampness along her sexy panties.

‘That was expensive, by the way.’

‘I’ve got a payment plan on course.’

‘Mm. Enlighten me.’

You pull her panties to the side.

She’s dripping wet, nectar spooling right on her pink core. A glorious sheen that makes you stare far longer than you should’ve. She’s red-faced at this point, and her forearms cover most of her sight, and yet, she doesn’t move, doesn’t retreat. 

The first lick you place, just a brush against her engorged clit, crumbles every self-regulated triangle-approved behavior she has. Two pants turn fifty, one lick crumbles everything. Her hips coax you in ways gymnasts can’t even replicate, and of course, you oblige.

Soft licks, teases around her outer lips, swollen from all the anticipation and arousal; tonguing at her inner lips, just at the crux of her clit, gets her screaming in ways her deep voice would never register; and above all, she’s orgasming, squirting, losing every pretense in favor of her built up lust. 

‘Oh~fuck—’

Her fingers find purchase in your hair, and she softly pulls you in—rides your face like it was all that she ever desired: her eternal wish.

‘Ohmygod! Imcumming!’ Her voice turns mousy, and her pupils go back in pure pleasure, coupled with hip movements thought impossible: this was the greatest pleasure of her life.

You grab her chin, squeeze softly, her cheeks molding to your grasp, and you press a soft kiss right on her kiss-bruised lips. You let her taste herself on your tongue.

‘Good. Right?’

And she nods. A complete personality switch from the playfulness she displayed earlier. Delicate.

Her hands land on your boxers as she melted into your kiss. Once you felt her palm your cock, you groaned right in her ear. She starts softly, stroking. But her strokes grow more all-encompassing as you press harder into the kiss.

‘Fuck. You’re so good for me.’

She mewls back, on the gradient slide of unadulterated pleasure.

Softly, you release your shaft from the boxer. And you press your cock right on her core. Feeling the wet heat, the sticky nectar that pooled to a mindbreaking degree. 

‘It goes without saying.’

‘That I’m head over heels for you?’

You grin, ‘Well, that too, but you’re hopeless.’

‘Maybe if we weren’t so compatible.’

You grab a breast, palming it, ‘Well that, that too, goes without saying.’

She smiles, so warmly, every trace of everything else melted off her face––the sort of smile you’d never forget, and the sort of smile you’d want to wake up to… forever.

Finally, you press into her, and her wet heat envelops you, enough to make you groan, enough to make her moan like there’s no greater pleasure––because really, there’s nothing else.

Her pussy clings onto you, a wet suction that is immeasurably soft and yet, a vacuum-seal-like tightness that gets you groaning after every thrust.

Her arms cling to you, and her eyebrows knit, her small face full of emotion—all of it processing how good you fuck her.

‘Oh god. Would it be bad that I want you to declare to the world that you own me?”

‘Chapter 12—’

She cuts you off, ‘Something along the lines of: “Chapter 12: Karina is my fuckslut”’ 

‘I don’t tolerate Karina disrespect.’ You say, truthfully.

‘Even if it’s by myself?’

‘Especially for that case, sweetheart.’

‘Oh… you’re too good.’

‘You’re blind.’

Most popular idol in the world, and… she’s hopelessly down bad for you.

‘If I’m blind. Then you don’t have eyes—complete darkness.’

‘We’re two of the same.’

‘I’m your biggest fan.’

‘We’re two of the same.’

‘I love you.’

‘You have a way with words, Karina.’ You reply, pressing soft kisses along her jaw, whispering sweet nothings into her ear, thrusting into her harder, sharing breaths.

‘You’ve inspired me.’

And you lock lips with her, the thrusts were becoming a blur, and her moans music to your ears—it was all just… heaven.

There was no technique. Nothing too purposeful. It was all just pure affection, pure love guiding all your actions. And the fact that she’s cumming again was no coincidence.

‘Oh. My. Fucking. God!’ Her head goes back deep into the pillow and you follow suit. Pressing soft kisses that covered every square centimeter of her beauty, kisses that made her giggle even in her most orgasmic moment of her life. 

‘If I knew anything that felt like this… I’d be doing it constantly.’

‘Well—’

‘That’s right,’ Karina gives a soft peck, ‘I have you now.’ 

You could feel her heartbeat, her skin precipitate, and her cunt pulse—it’s just heaven at this point. 

‘Are you trying to convince me to follow you?’

‘2 years, finest in New York.’

‘Deal. Though you overbid a little.’

‘Meaning?’

‘Means anything you want, dear.’

The soft slick of her cunt made it nearly frictionless, just pure pleasure for both parties. Her hips gave way every time, an identity of its own, retreating when you thrust too hard, giving in when softer.’

‘Is this like a sugar mommy situation?’

‘Two words I never expected you to say.’ You both share a laugh.

‘I mean that’s what it is right?’

‘A power imbalance? Please. I can get you to buy a New York penthouse for me at this point.’

‘Well. You’re right. But—’

You bring your cock to the hilt inside of her, whilst stealing her lips for a deep kiss. She moans and mewls and gasps—music to your ears. You change positions. You bring her legs to your shoulders, and you begin kissing along her ankle while thrusting inside of her.

This time, you can see the full view. How her breasts bounce against the thrusts, how her slick has completely covered your entire length at this point, and how beautifully her face is framed between it all. 

Her mouth’s agape, moaning, giggling intermittently with the jokes shared through eye contact. You bite softly at her ankle then down her legs, to her calves, then releasing her legs altogether to kiss her again.

She fits perfectly against you, small and delicate but the perfect puzzle piece under you. She’s absorbent, aware of your needs, placing soft kisses along the ridges of your eyebrows, rubbing away the day’s fatigue along your jaw and temple. 

‘I love you.’

‘I love you too.’

‘I didn’t hear.’

You press against her, feeling her breasts spool against your chest, bring your thrust to the hilt, the wetness of her loins pressed against yours, all of them vividly apparent. ‘I love your beauty. I love your humor. I love how clever you are. I love how authentic you are. And I could continue on and on but I’m about to cum.’

Karina sniffled, ‘God, I was about to cry and then you say that.’ She softly smacks your shoulder, ‘just cum inside me and let’s cuddle.’

You oblige, the thrusts turn into a haze of pure pleasure, a desperate moment chasing the local maxima, and finally, you burst inside of her. Cum spooled, all inside her, and she moans so gracefully, staring at you with all the affection in the world.

‘We can worry about this tomorrow.’ She palmed your jaw.

‘Of course.’ You fall onto her, cuddling her.

Both of you are a mess, gross, bodily fluids spread everywhere, and yet, the both of you fell into a deep slumber.

A/N: I'd like to apologize for switching up styles so much (But if you enjoyed this dialogue-heavy work, then lmk!)

[futfemfantasies]

A wedding to remember ~ Steph Catley x reader

Weddings in vineyards are always beautiful but it's something about the venue under the Australian sunset that makes it stand out. With fairy lights decorating the trees and rustic vibes from the wooden tables, Emily and Kat designed it perfectly. You watch the newlyweds have their first dance, a glass of champagne in hand, when you notice a familiar brunette join your other Matilda's teammates across the dance floor.

Steph has been in your life since you were teenagers. Growing closer when on camps together and sharing moments on and off the pitch. Between you both there has always been an unspoken connection that neither person wants to acknowledge. For many years now, there has been one complication for your friendship to progress further - Dean. You told yourself over and over again that there was no chance anything could happen. But Steph got engaged to Dean and you couldn't stand to see it so you move clubs to protect your feelings. Every camp for the national team you'd try to hide your feelings but many of your Matilda's teammates caught on quickly. Every time Steph glances your way, it becomes harder for you to keep those feelings settled.

The sun started to move behind the horizon and more people moved to the dance floor. You decided to stay back and watch, not really in a dancing mood. You heard heels click behind you and you felt a hand on your shoulder. You turned around and saw the woman taking over your thoughts since you arrived.

“Hey stranger,” She said softly.

“Hey,” you replied, trying not to appear nervous.

Steph smiled small, but warm. “You've been hiding over here all night.”

“Just enjoying the view.” you said, gesturing to the many trees in the vineyard.

Steph nodded, looking at the sunset and dimly lit trees before facing you again. “You've been radio silent lately, is everything okay?”

“Just a lot on my mind I guess.” you hesitated. Steph studied you, her expression unreadable.

“You know you can talk to me about anything?”

“I know.” you whisper before going to see your other Matilda's teammate.

Emily insisted that all the Matilda's are to go on the dance floor at least once during the night. Ellie dragged you on there, declaring you needed to ‘loosen up’. After pushing through the crowd, one of your favorite songs comes on. As you dance around with Ellie, she gives you a slight nod to look behind you. Steph was there with her hand outstretched, silently asking you to dance as the music got slower. You hesitate for a millisecond before taking Steph's hand. Time seemed to slow as Steph guided you to the middle of the dance floor. You placed your hand on her waist, trying to ignore all the feelings inside. Neither of you spoke for a while, just gently swaying with the soft melody, until Steph broke the silence.

“Dean and I broke up.” she said, voice quiet but steady.

You stopped in your tracks, looking Steph in the eyes. “what?”

“It's been coming for a while,” Steph admitted. “We both knew it wasn't working anymore,” Before you could respond she continued.

“I've been thinking a lot about what I want - about what makes me happy,” Her eyes met yours, hands tighten around your waist. “and it's you.”

Your breath hitched, as the weight of her words started to settle in. “Steph…”

“Follow me.”

Steph untangles from you and pushes her way through the crowd. You follow behind like a lost puppy until you get a little bit away from the reception. Steph pulls you in her arms and you search her face for any hint of doubt. There was only honesty and Hope.

“I've wanted to say this for so long,” you admit, as your voice trembled. “but I didn't think I could.”

Steph hold your face in one of her hands as she smiled, “well, now you can.”

With that, the distance between you became non-existent. the music Fading Into the background and all you can focus on is her. you both lean in and the wedding slowly forgotten as you two were caught up in each other.

The kiss under the stars changes everything. For the first time, the barriers between you and Steph crumble. As you pull back, your foreheads resting together, Steph smiles—a real, unforgettable smile that feels like home.

“We can’t keep this just for tonight,” she says softly.

You nod, your heart pounding. “I don’t want to.”

The rest of the wedding fades into a blur. You and Steph spend the next few days together, slipping away from the chaos to steal quiet moments just for yourselves. Long walks along the beach, lazy afternoons in the sun, and late-night conversations filled with laughter and shared memories remind you both of what you’ve always had—and what you could have.

As the offseason looms, you both return to Europe, reluctant to leave the bubble you’ve created but excited to see what the future holds. Steph heads back to London, while you return to Barcelona, the distance between you feeling more manageable now than ever before.

The transfer window is in full swing, and rumors are flying about player moves. You’ve kept your decision close to your chest, wanting to surprise Steph when the time is right. The deal with Arsenal has been finalised, and the announcement is just days away.

With the help of Caitlin and Katie, you arrange to meet Steph at one of your favorite coffee spots in London. She’s already seated at a corner table when you arrive, her face lighting up the moment she sees you.

“I didn’t expect to see you so soon,” she says, standing to hug you.

You grin, nerves bubbling under the surface. “I have a surprise.”

“Oh?” she asks, raising an eyebrow as you both sit.

You slide an Arsenal scarf out of your bag and place it on the table between you. Steph stares at it for a moment, her eyes widening as realisation dawns.

“No way,” she says, her voice filled with disbelief and excitement.

“Way,” you reply, unable to keep the grin off your face. “The transfer is all finalised. I’m joining Arsenal next season.”

Steph laughs, leaning back in her chair as she takes it all in. “You’re serious?”

“Completely,” you say. “Thought it was time for a change—and maybe time to be closer to you.”

Her smile softens, and she reaches across the table to take your hand. “You have no idea how happy this makes me.”

For the first time in a long time, everything felt right.

[kozachenko]

Finally decided to play around with my old lineless style again! Also figured out a way to draw Reimu that I actually really like!

Artist's Notes;

I've mentioned in a few earlier posts that I've been wanting to draw in my lineless style again for a while as a way to test what I've learnt from my previous style in regards to lighting. I did the face first and then for a while was thinking about doing a full body illustration of Reimu just to draw her outfit again. I'll talk about the face first since that's the first drawing I did in this batch.

For the longest time I really couldn't find a way to translate Reimu's face into my style. I was able to make her clothes work out well, just not really her face. I did like elements of how I drew her face a few other times, namely the tiny eyebrows and her pupils, but they didn't really feel like Reimu to me, or at least how I imagined her in my head. I then realized that it was less of a problem with the entire face and moreso the eyes, and it took me quite a bit of trial and error to make something that I was happy with. Also, as much as I thought the tiny eyebrows were cute, it didn't really make sense with her character. Like, from what I know about Japanese history, plucking your eyebrows was something that nobles (rich people) would do, and since Reimu is...neither of those things, I decided to just give her some thicker eyebrows instead (I will be saving the plucked eyebrows for another character though, so they will return). After I got to a face I was happy with, my next challenge was the hair. I did the front part first and liked that enough to continue, and then after more trial and error I realized that deep down I was a short-hair-Reimu-is-best-Reimu-truther this whole time because once I gave up on the long hair and gave her shorter hair something just clicked in my brain. And so, after drawing her outfit in again (this time without the yellow tie which is kinda sad but I'll find a way to incorperate it into future designs because it just was not making sense to me in context with the rest of the outfit) and finnicking around with the bow, I came to a version of Reimu's face that I actually liked. I thought that it made more sense for her character to have her cut it short, mainly because she's doing a bunch of Youkai extermination and she has to keep her hair out of her face somehow. I still wanted to make it kinda messy though, as Reimu is probably too lazy to clean it up herself. I think another reason I like it so much is because in Forbidden Scrollery, Moe Harukawa gave Reimu short hair and that really suited her, so I guess that was just a subconcious reason as to why I liked it so much. I also think that the shorter hair helps to separate her a lot from Marisa, as I think Marisa looks really good with longer hair. Speaking of, now I wanna do a drawing of her and Reimu together to really solidify how I draw them (unlike the previous version where it was just them standing). As much as I do like the face, I am concerned if she looks too much like how I drew Keiki now, but that might just be a product of the stylistic choices I made with her eyes and I might just be overthinking it. I am hyperaware of same face syndrome so that's probably the reason I'm so concerned about it lol.

Now for the fully body drawing. I was struggling to think of a good pose for her, so I just took a picture of myself and used that as a reference while still making slight adjustments for readability's sake. This is another case of, "I've looked at this too long and can spot every single issue with it" but this time I'm still happy with the final product mainly because this was a test drive for how I want to develop my lineless style in the future and for what it is I am more than pleased with the result. The main reason I deviated away from my lineless style was mainly because I was having a hard time with the lighting and making it interesting, and I am so glad that I've finally found a way to make it work! I'm especially happy with the clothes, as I think clothing folds are really fun to draw. I was somewhat inspired by the works of J.C. Lyendecker and the way he draws clothes, though admittedly it is not a one to one, since I mainly wanted to try implying the shading of the clothing folds with shapes (I do really want to do a study of his style one day as his art is incredible). So for the sleeves, I drew in a bunch of triangles where I wanted there to be a strong highlight, roughly coloured in the inside, and then blended them all so it looks like a more subtle. On both of these drawings, I also added in a noise filter to give it some texture (as that's what I used to often do with my drawings) and while I do like it, I might want to experiment with making it more subtle in the future, as it's pretty noticeable in both these drawings. Overall, I'm really happy with the lighting and colours of this drawing, and while I could nitpick several aspects of it (her hand holding the gohei looks too tense, I tried making her look like she was standing on the balls of her feet but the positioning of her Gohei's trail of papers ends up making it look weird, and I could've put more effort into the hair and bow and so many more things), this is more of a piece for me to experiment with my style again, and I'm excited for when I get a new idea for a piece, as I really wanna try some more stuff out with this style!

[gotta-winwin]

(🎞️) ... hit the road docu.<> for you to walk comfortably

masterlist | cyana's masterlist

word count: 1k TW: fluff? nothing too crazy - woozi's segments pretty mild compared to what's about to go down („• ֊ •„) italics are interview moments cut between other scenes a/n: welcome to the first instalment of htr!

Cyana couldn't help but glance at Woozi when they won the Album of the Year at Asia Artist Awards. She wanted to see that glow of a smile flood across their producer member's face, a smile she so rarely got to see. He was usually so stoic around her.

"We won." Jeonghan breathed into her ear, pulling her and Dino in for a hug. "We won."

She looked at Woozi, who had been tugged into a group hug with Seungcheol and the others. "We won." She mumbled, mostly to herself. She couldn't quite believe it.

"It was hard to imagine we had won." Woozi said to the camera. "I was looking for Cyana the whole time, trying to see her reaction. I never thought we'd succeed with her next to us." He shrugged, a little sheepish. "Guess I was wrong."

"Hi!" Cyana waved to the camera. "We're practicing for our Osaka concert right now." She moved to show the members with the staff in the background. "Apparently they did this all last tour as well, to keep in line with the local staff."

Woozi could be seen directing the bulk of it, naturally taking over as he knew most about their sound design.

"It sounds a bit lower," Woozi said into his mic. "can we adjust that?"

"It was amazing, to see Woozi oppa controlling the stage, even when we weren't performing." Cyana smiled as she recalled. "It made it even harder to hold a grudge."

Woozi approached Cyana as they sat in the green room, two hours before the concert. She was busy eating, her phone propped up as she watched Criminal Minds on low volume.

"Your mic pack's acting up." He informed her, sitting down opposite her. "They're fixing it but we don't know how long it'll take."

Cyana paused her show, looking up worried. "Is there a spare?"

"The staff are finding one now." Woozi let out a loud sigh. "It's a bit hectic today."

"I was kind of checking everything that day. It wasn't that I was a perfectionist. There was just a lot of changes. It was a different size stage, we had changed formations and cue sheets." Woozi recalled the day.

Cyana nodded after hearing the interviewer's comment. "I don't think our performance in Osaka would've gone as well if it hadn't been for his attention to detail."

LOCATION: UNIVERSE FACTORY

"I spend most of my time at the studio. It's like my second home." Woozi explained. "It's also where I see Cyana the most."

Cyana's sprawled on the studio couch, face facing the ceiling as she listened to the track Woozi was playing. "Pause it." Cyana sat upright, her face in thought. "Wait, go back a few bars."

"I liked working with Woozi oppa. We didn't really have much to say to each other outside of work, but working on music was something that could bring us together." Cyana let out a tiny laugh. "I guess being sleep deprived does bring people together."

Woozi rewinds the track, bringing it back to the chorus. "Here?" He asked, looking at Cyana for confirmation.

The girl nodded. "Yeah, play it again?"

The two grew silent as they concentrated on the beats. Cyana stood up suddenly frowning. "What is that sound in the very back? The dat-dat-dat-dun." She mimed drumbeats as she tried explaining what she was hearing.

"Cyana didn't know how to work the sound mixing board yet, she was learning as we worked but I could tell it frustrated her, having to explain her thoughts to me." Woozi couldn't help but smile. "It was endearing, I have to say."

"I know what you mean." Woozi nodded, following her train of thought. "I hear it too. Must've altered when we mixed those two beats together yesterday." He clicked a few keys on the board. "I'll find it."

"Bumzu sunbaenim told me Woozi oppa's always been like this, even as a trainee. A pure musical genius." Cyana shook her head in mild disbelief. "I came to learn that producing is literally his entire life. He doesn't even think of it as anything special."

Cyana let out a yawn, sitting back down on her spot at the corner of the couch, curling her legs up. "You should take a break, oppa. You've been staring at that screen for hours."

"I felt bad, that I couldn't hold my fair share of the work. Sometimes it felt like I was just directing him." Cyana admitted. "I thought: he must feel annoyed, having the maknae throw ideas into his area of expertise."

Woozi stretched his arms, rolling his shoulders back. "I'm fine, Cyana. We can keep going." Rolling his chair across the room, he opened the mini fridge and threw her a bottle of water before taking one for himself. "We'll forget tomorrow."

Cyana could only smile ruefully at his persistence, taking a small sip of water. "Only if you're sure."

"What else can I say?" Woozi shrugged. "The members all say I work too hard. That I should be sleeping more, going out more, living more. But I am living- when I'm making music."

Woozi cued up the track once again, sifting through it to find the error both he and Cyana could hear. Cyana watched from behind, feet tapping absentmindedly to the rhythm.

The concert venue held an insane amount of people. Cyana could only stare out into the vast sea, smiling from the sidelines as Woozi started his Opening Ment.

"I'm a stickler for routine." Woozi said, elbows on his knees as he explained to the interviewer. "Cyana proved to me new things can be better than the old- and I'm grateful to her for that." He side eyes the staff. "She won't see this, right?" Looking back at the camera, he continued. "Anyways, I'm thankful for my members because they are the ones who love my music the most. Because of that, I feel no pressure in creating, only joy."

The cheers from the crowd washed over Woozi as he performed with his members.

'There is something so special about seeing people enjoy your group's music. And it is even more special knowing you created it."

a/n: wahhh first hit the road ep done! it was def a journey, trying to combine cyana into the episode and also keeping it woozi-centered. I tried following the format of the og youtube docu- lmk how it was! these instalments might be on the shorter side just cause the docus are pretty short themselves (｡•́︿•̀｡)

[kadwrites]

something old, something new | T.S

previous part | next part

or check out the series masterlist

summary ; how long can you keep that secret?

warnings ; arranged marriage!trope, SLOW burn, soft!tommy , fem!reader, idk what im doing,

a/n ; i would love to know what you guys think of this part<3 thank you guys for all the support i really really appreciate it <33

-

"ya should've stabbed 'im when ya had the chance to." madeline mumbles, putting rose in the crib that was dragged next to the dining table

"what the hell has gotten into 'im?...." fiona looks at celest and celest shrugs , looking back at you

"god i feel like i'm going to explode" you take a gulp of the wine in your glass "i can't lie to tommy"

"then don't, just tell him" celest swirls the wine in her glass

"i 'ave a feeling tommy might just.." fiona runs her thumb across her neck, clicking her tongue

"i mean he's not that violent," you add , your finger moving across the rim of the glass "he's sweet...sometimes.... i think"

"is she ... drunk?" madeline grabs the wine bottle, pouring some in the glass in her hand

"i'm sure he doesn't just go around killing people" you look at the three women around you, "what do ya think jeremy wants to do?"

"i mean he said he wants ya back , didn't he?" celest sips her wine

"i mean yeah , technically i guess..."

"not technically" madeline is points at you "he said he wouldn't let ya marry tommy"

"it's just so odd" your hand rubs at the back of your neck "this is so out of the blue, we ended years ago. it's not like we were in contact too or anything"

"ya attract crazy men" fiona says with a raised brow

"i don't need this." you cover your face with your hand, before taking another gulp from your glass

"come on," celest gets up, taking the wine glass out of your hand "ya need sleep."

you have your arms raised on each side. , wearing a thin white robe. standing with your back straight and head held high, the seamstress starts measuring from the tip of your fingers to your shoulders.

"how is he treating ya?"

"hm?" you snap out of whatever trance you were in, eyes glancing in her direction

"thomas shelby, how is he treating ya?"

"yes , yes he is." you speak almost too quickly "why wouldn't he?" you try to not move,

she looks at you through her spectacles, raising a brow

you raise a brow too "i thought ya knew his family very well?"

"i do, that's why i'm asking" she says with a sigh , moving to the other side to get the measurements and your eyes follow her

the room is spacious, with every kind of fabric and thread you could possibly think of. it's quiet, the light shining in through the windows. the fabric and the design of your wedding dress on a paper on the table. a sketch of it, and it looked perfect.

"he's treating me well" you repeat

"do ya know about grace?"

your eyes drift away, you lick your lips nervously. you never had this conversation with anyone, it was a topic everyone tiptoed away from. except for her, apparently

"i know of 'er, yes."

"he loved that girl, he did." she nodded, rolling the measuring tape, getting your bust measurements.

"yeah, i've heard." you cleared your throat

"ya should've seen how he looked at 'er" she chuckled, "but , the way he looks at you ..." she looks at you again, before moving to make another measurement.

your head snaps this time, looking at her before she reprimands you to stay still "me?"

"mhm."

"i don't think so" you murmur then chuckle

"i wouldn't be so sure" she said with a knowing look , she rolls the measuring tape around your waist "i've known 'im since he was a boy."

"i mean, i'm sure ya do." you smile at her politely "but i do doubt that."

"ya can doubt it all ya like, it won't make it less true" she mumbles ,

a soft knock at the door catches your attention. she frowns, pulling her spectacles down and walking to the door, she opens it slightly

"morning mrs baker."

tommy's voice makes your eyes widen slightly, and your heart flutter.

"tommy." she says with a laugh "ya 'ave no business here, boy."

"my bride is here" he nods at you "so , i do actually 'ave business here"

she opens the door, letting him in. the smile and look on her face is stern, but maternal.

"the girl tells you're treating her well" she mumbles, going back to standing at your side

"she did?" he asks with a small smile before standing against a wall, his back pressed against it with his hands in his pockets, his gaze stuck on you.

she nods, putting her spectacles back on as she writes down the measurements on a piece of paper

"ya were trying to turn 'er on me, sylvia?" he speaks again

she shoots him a glare before looking back at you "ya see what you're marrying?"

you chuckle, tying the robe tighter around you. "yeah, i see it."

sylvia walks out of the room, to the front of the store for a customer that came in, leaving you and tommy in the back.

"why didn't ya bring your mother with ya?" he asks you, getting off the wall but not taking one step further.

"she can be...... overly enthusiastic at times. so i didn't tell 'er i was coming here" you say with a chuckle, turning to look at him

"that's smart" he hums , looking you over.

"she will lose 'er mind but i think it'll be worth it , i think."

he hums again, this time walking to stand in front of you.

"didn't ya 'ave a meeting today? i'm surprised ya even had the time to come here" you tilt your head as you speak

"want to get rid of me, do ya?"

"of course i don't."

"so ya want me around?" he leans closer, and you feel your breath stop. his voice is soft and low, his eyes glance at your lips before going back to your eyes

"i...." you stutter , your eyes scan his face "i do" you speak softly

"i do too."

"yeah?" you whisper back.

the air is so heavy, you feel his breath fan over your lips. your noses brush against each other.

"are ya scared of me?"

"no" you shake your head softly

he leans in closer and his lips press against yours, your eyes flutter shut and you feel as if time stopped moving, the floor under you disappeared.

after a few moments, he pulls back but not far back , his nose brushes against your cheek and his lips press against your ear

"what are ya hiding from me?"

-

taglist ; @tardisloverz , @optimisticsandwichgladiator , @theshelbyslimited , @illuminwtesz , @goldensunflowe-r , @gruffle1 , @warrior-of-justice , @mgdixon , @babayaga67 , @goblinjnr , @justaproudslytherpuff , @budugu , @twlegit , @amberpanda99 , @aesthetic0cherryblossom , @capswife , @lets-turn-and-burn , @affabletimelady , @edencherries , @globetrotter28 , @eg-dr3amer3 , @sadroses98 , @fairytale07 , @hakudaru , @swordofawriter , @esposadomd , @blogforficslol ، @bearchermer , @n1c0t1n4 , @dreamy-caramel , @dragonsondragons , @charli123456789 ، @bunny24sstuff ، @butterfly-lover , @my-tin-can-mans , @powellssaturn , @vlryexsworld , @h0neylemon , @citris-runaway , @swinginmusicalfunnydragon , @babyspice6 , @oatmealisweird , @powellssaturn , @yuki254 , @ce1iat , @thelastemzy , @queenofshinigamis , @bai-wuxiangs-mask , @knmendiola ، @bethexo07

[volturiprincess]

You Kill Me (Pt 2.)

Caius Volturi x vamp female reader

Summary: The confrontation after part one. Warnings: Angst, foul language, mentions of sexual harassment, Caius' sinister side peeks (I think thats all?) A/N: FINALLY! Man it took a while but I mean I got writer's block with this one. I really wanted to dive a bit deep with this and I added a couple back and forth POV between reader and Caius (I almost added a Marcus POV but I changed my mind). Thank you to everyone who has been patient with this one-shot, I hope I did not disappoint. But as always...Enjoy💙 Word Count: 6k+ (My longest one so far)

(Here's Part 1)

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

(This. Was. His. Era. Again Jamie did him justice🥰)

Recap….

We stood in silence, I wanted to say something but I didn't know what exactly. I must have been too deep in thought because when I looked up he was gone…..

Oh gosh. What have I done? Why didn't I just say something to him, anything really could have worked at that moment and maybe I would not of hurted him. I never wanted to hurt him in anyway, he’s my mate for fucks sake. Even if I'm still getting used to the idea of having him as my mate, or just being around vampire civilization again, I would never want to harm him. When I pushed him away the hurt his eyes reflected, hit me.

Why am I being so difficult with him? You would think finding your mate just clicks for one and everything in your life finally makes sense, you get a sense of being even but no I decided to just make this once in lifetime experience so complicated. I have been in communication with Carlisle of course via letters, and when I tell him about me and Caius, I can already picture him shaking his head in disappointment each time he reads my letters. He understands why I'm being like this but he finds it totallyunnecessary for me to act like this toward my own mate, he keeps telling me you only get one in this lifetime. 

I decided to head outside to the gardens, where I usually spend my alone time until I see Marcus there. It seems he was expecting me. 

“Hello Marcus, fancy seeing you here”

“I would say the same thing but we have matters to discuss, dear”

I guess Caius got to him already, even if Marcus never shows any sort of emotions, right now he's giving me the same look Carlisle would give me when I did something absurd. He motions for me to sit with him, which I join him instantly.

“I am already going to assume you know what I'm about to say?”

“I have a hunch of an idea”

I couldn't look at him because the look he's giving me was pure disappointment, I felt like a child being scolded by their parents. I know that feeling all too familiar, I was the ‘wild card' apparently compared to my brother when we were younger, father had a knack to always scold me even when it's something as little as forgetting to put away a cup. Carlisle had it easier compared to me, I was molded to be this lady that society would approve of, I was designed to be the perfect wife according to my father. Mother would have never wanted me to be raised like this, she was the one who encouraged me to read, she was even the one who taught me how until she passed away when me and Carlisle were 5. 

“Let’s start this off simple, how are you feeling?”

That is a very good question, how the fuck do I feel? Sure I feel confused, that's all I have been feeling since I found out about being mated to Caius but I mean I feel disgusted. I feel disgusted with myself, I heard stories over the years that the Volturi were supposedly these power hungry coven who are just ruthless but now I feel like I'm the true villain here. What kind of sick person– err vampire in this case– turns their back on someone who has been nothing but loving and patient with them? Caius, even if he has  been interesting with his tactics of showing affection, has only been patient with me, and how do I return the favor? I push him away and basically stomp on his heart.

“Terrible”

“Elaborate on that”

I really do feel like a kid currently.

“I feel terrible because I broke Caius heart” 

“And how?”

And now I feel like I'm in a therapy session.

“For months I turn away from our mate bond and refuse to give in, he does not deserve that, actually screw that he does not deserve a mate who just shuts him away for no reason”

“Oh but there is a reason to your uncalled behavior”

“Isn't there always a reason for everything?”

“Yes, which is why I'm asking you why are you being like this?”

“I dont know”

Of course I know why, I'm scared to give into the bond, what if I’m not good enough for him. What if I fuck up or something and he decides I'm not worth, that I'm not worthy in being his mate. I know you can't pick who your mate is or anything but he could do so much better than me, a person worthy enough to be his queen. Other than the fear, I'm angry. I've been forced to be here forever and don't even have the chance to see my brother. I miss him, he was all I had left of my family and now I have to be away from him. And my past trauma is always lingering.

“I doubt that”

“Marcus, no disrespect to you, but why are you invested in me and Caius? I know he's your brother and all but…why?”

I saw him look off to the distance, almost like I do on a daily basis when I'm reflecting on thoughts or events throughout the day. But I could see his expression change, instead of the disappointed look he had not that long ago, he looked gloomy which was his usual expression before I started to talk to him. 

“I told you about my…” I saw him take an unnecessary gulp ”late wife…Didyme,right?”

“Yes you did, she sounded like a lovely being, I would of loved to of meet her”

“She was, I mean she is. What i'm trying to say is I don't want to you or Caius to end up like me, I have had my brother in my life for so long and to see him finally find his mate, makes me surprisingly happy, I might not show it but internally I have a bit of peace”

Oh the guilt I have right now is no joke, the way he is speaking makes me worry more about the situation I created with his soul brother. The day he told me about Didyme was when I healed her favorite flower, he only told me a bit about her, her personality, features, how her smile could brighten any room, how with just a touch his worries and sadness would be like if it never existed. He truly loved her and the way he is barely going through life does make me sympathize for him big time. I actually make sure to check up on him at least once a day, from just asking him about the latest book he has read to just asking him to oversee my work in the garden, it's not much but I can see a bit of change in his eyes. 

“But I also do not want to see you suffer, I don't know what you are trying to accomplish with this behavior but you have become an important person to me. I view you as a sister I never had, makes me a bit envious of Carlisle since he has the honor to call you his actual sister.”

“Marcus I don't know what to say, I'll be honest with you but I view you as my brother as well, I see a bit of Carlisle in you”

“We are getting off topic but I appreciate your honesty dear, the point of this conversation is to come to your senses and accept Caius as your mate, I can see your bond with him weaken, you are doing nothing to nurture it, he was kind of trying but not in an effective way, in a way you two are acting like children, now if you will excuse me, I have matters to attend to”

He took off before I could even close my mouth at his revelation. He does make a point, I need to stop this ridiculous behavior I've been having and be willing to accept Caius as a mate. 

Caius POV

Humiliated. Disappointed. Defeated. Embarrassed. Furious. And Shameful. Who does she think she is? Was it perhaps my fault for pushing her and just throwing myself at her with that kiss? What was I thinking in doing such an action on her? I would never act like that or think to do it, I am a gentleman, I might not show it but I have never had no intentions to be this way. I still blame her. She is the one who has made me a whole different being. My brother has told me once you find your mate, everything just clicks, they are your equal side and they supposedly make you a better person. He’s wrong, since the minute I saw her I knew she would be trouble, I knew she would not be the right fit for me. 

How could she push me away like I was not worth anything. I have feelings. Wait? Do I? I never understood the purpose of expressing feelings. We feed on humans, I have no sympathy for them only that they keep my thirst down. But when I saw her, I felt the world stop, my main focus was on her and only her, not only because of her beauty but the aura she gave. I for once felt my unbeaten heart beat, I felt like I was suffocating from her scent, but at the same time I felt at ease. I still do not understand her purpose of being difficult with me, if I didn't spend our longest time together arguing with her I would've gotten answers to my questions.  

Maybe it is my fault as well, I have not been there for her. Marcus advised me to spend time with her to actually get to know her. He also warned me that I should be easy with her, she will never be able to see her family unless they come here. But what do I do instead? I basically seduced her with my charm and thought that would be enough to seal the bond. What an idiot I can be, but at the same time I at least tried to give into the bond, unlike her. She would just turn away from me and act like I was some low life, like a pest in a common sense. Who gave her the right to treat me in such a way? Maybe her brother was the one who influenced her to be this way with me? I knew that vegetarian vampire had it out for me, it only makes sense since he left, he probably knew she was my mate this whole time. 

She's such a child to top it off. Running away from a bond that is grander than any bond to existence, and yet she turns away from it like a coward. Just like her brother, always going on and off from having mortals or not. In the time she has been here, she is still not drinking human blood. I thought by now she would have converted to our diet but it would seem I was wrong. Another thing to add to my list of changes; being wrong. I have always been right and if someone goes against me then they will end up being sorry. She’s changing me more than I care to ever want.

Y/N POV

It's been a month since I last saw him, even before I would at least catch glimpses of him or he would approach me. He’s nowhere, I even asked some of the guards if they have seen him but I was met with disappointment. Not even Aro or Marcus have been any help, well I haven't actually talked to Aro yet, he still creeps me out. My mind has been rehearsing over and over in what I will say to Caius, it's all I can really think of.  And to think it's only a month, it has felt like an eternity, considering I have been around for a while now, it cannot compare to this month alone. I think I am finally losing it, I believe I am going mental now. The way my mind is being filled with endless thoughts and worries is really pushing me into a not so pretty mindset. I want to cry but I know I am unable to, I want to scream but what will that solve? I want to run away but Demetri would just track me down in an instant. I want to drown myself in books to at least distract my mind but I know whatever I read it would only be twisted and I would be thrown back to thinking about him. 

I even stopped  hunting, I haven't had not one ounce of blood since the last day I saw him. Why do I deserve to satisfy my thirst when I hurt my mate? Oh my mate, how much I am longing to be in his arms right now, telling him how sorry I am. To tell him what an idiot I have been this past half year, to tell him my fears of not being worthy of him, to tell him it's me and not him no matter how foolish that sounds. It's the truth there is nothing wrong with him, not even his anger issues bother me, on the contrary I love how he is not afraid to show his intense emotions out. Oh? I said the L word, well it's no issue to me because I think I do love him. How fucked up is that really? It took for him to stop coming up to me to finally realize I do have love for him.

I have been spending this whole month, when I was not looking for Caius, pacing in my room growing more and more mad. Not the emotion mad but like mentally losing it. But I think I am also mad, I mean I am trying to make it up to him but he won't even give me a chance. It's frustrating really. Oh no. Is this how Caius was when he was trying to seal the bond but I just turned away from him? Now I am really feeling the pain and guilt, this torment is just so painful for anyone to face. I made him go through this, I really am a monster.

I fell to my knees in defeat as I buried my face into my hands, the venom started to fill my eyes. All my walls started to crash down on me and I could feel myself almost physically hyperventilate as I was trying to remember to calm myself. I felt my old human self creep up. In my human years I would have my breakdowns after each lecture my father would give me. His talks about me being the ideal respectful woman would get to me too much.

His preaching never got easier, he even would force me to attend his social gatherings with other men so I could be viewed as an available choice as a wife. When my dad was not having an eye on me, those men would stare at me shamelessly, it made me feel gross and caused me to have a desire to be alone. Another reason why I avoided any type of civilization when me and Carlisle went our separate ways. 

Maybe that’s another reason why I was also being harsh toward Caius, I feared he was going to be like those men. It didn't  help his case to be proven wrong when he kissed me or the way he seduced me endless times. I need to talk to him. 

Caius POV

I feel foolish avoiding my own problems. I tend to get to the bottom of things but in this case it's different. How can I solve this? Wouldn’t it make sense for her to come up to me and apologize for her childish acts? The way she wouldn't even look me in the eye when I talked to her? Or how she would respond to me with a snarky remark? Gosh I think I love her attitude, even if she did hurt my feelings by rejecting me, I think I fell for her more each time I would approach her. But when she pushed me away, I noticed her attitude was true. Why would she want to be with a vampire who has the title of the ‘ruthless one’ out of the three? I never cared for what others think about me but with her, everything suddenly mattered. I wanted her to accept me for me.

My reputation means everything to me, I am the one who does not show mercy and I am the one to not give second chances. As for her, I would give her endless chances if it means she gets to be mine, only she can get her way with me. I would not let anyone know how her rejection has hit me, I would rather let my anger take over me to let others know she has no effect on me. Why is loving someone so hard? Love for me was always something I viewed as a weakness, look at me for merlin sake, I feel like being locked up in a room and refusing to be out and about. 

It is what I have been doing this past month, I been in my art room staring at a blank canvas. My muse, my inspiration, and my desire to create a masterpiece has left me. Before her I would decorate my walls with weekly original art from whatever came to my mind. And yet when she turned away, my yearning vanished like I drop my helpless dead meal fall to the ground after I drained them. 

A while ago I was painting her, I happened to decide to work outside on a little platform reserved for me only and I happened to spot her in the gardens. I never revealed myself to her but I had a perfect view of her staring off into the distance, the right lighting was even hitting her and the scenery around her was every artist's dream come true. 

I only got to sketch the background because I wanted to spend more time on just her. How she was posing unaware of my eyes on her, how her lips were slightly parted, how the wind picked up her hair slightly after each breeze. How her eyes held so much emotion while her other facial features stayed relaxed. She was and still is breathtaking to me. I could spend hours drawing different sketches of her if she were to let me, I even got an idea of a new statue to add in the gardens, it would be of her.

She’s like a reincarnation of Aphrodite, no I am mistaken she is more bewitching than the goddess herself. How have I gone a millennium's without witnessing such beauty in my life? I need her, she’s my missing muse. 

Y/N POV

When I was finally mentally composed enough I walked down one of the many hallways to head to the throne room. I have a feeling he might be there, I don't know where else he could be and nobody has told me about his whereabouts. I arrive hoping to see him there but only Marcus and Aro along with some of the guards who are within the shadows are there. I want to yell at them but I compose myself. 

“Aro, Marcus, where is he?”

Aro who as always tends to act unaware of things unless it is of interest to him decides to mess with me.

“Where’s who?”

“Look I have kept my patience for a while, but if you dare to test me today I will gladly knock you out again but this time it will be a month”

The hidden guards stepped out from the shadows after my little threat, already recognizing them I knew I could take them down. I was lucky that Jane and Alec were not around because my chances of winning would be low. 

“Why should we tell you where he is? Haven't you hurted him enough? I seen his thoughts I know the suffering you have put him through since your arrival”

I wanted to rip his head off so bad. How dare he meddle into mine and Caius' life? Soul brother or not, what me and Caius go through is our own business. I know he makes some sense about the suffering and pain but I have gone through my own pain also. Marcus settled a hand on Aro shoulder before I could think about attacking him

“Aro it is not our business to intercept into our brother and his mate's issues, my dear y/n he is in his art studio. Felix? Demetri? Would you mind taking her to his studio?”

They were both by my side and led me away. Good thing these two were taking me away, they are the only ones who would manage to stop me from attacking. It was a quick sprint and they nodded toward two large mahogany doors, it looked like it was indeed doors to an art room. It also seemed handcrafted, I had never seen such gorgeous details on a door before. I opened the door slowly to do a small peek into the room to see if he was there. He was there on a stool with a loose button up shirt that was open at the throat and he had some casual black slacks. His hair was a bit messy even and yet he was the most striking being I have ever seen in my lifetime. 

His gaze snapped at me as I was closing the door, his irises were matching his pupil from his lack of feeding. His eyes also matched mine, since I was also pushing away the need to feed. He watched my every move like a cat watches a mouse before pouncing on it.

“What do you want?”

“I-I I want to talk to you”

“Is that so? Took you a month to come to some senses did it?”

Well that hurt, I already knew he was going to be a bit sharp with his words yet that line hit me a bit hard.

Maybe this was a bad idea, maybe I still need time to be able to calmly talk to him. No, no keep yourself together y/n, I need to do this for not only my sake but for Caius.

“Well go on with it, I don't have all day”

“Look if you are going to start having an attitude with me then maybe we need to wait another day then to talk”

“I am not with attitude, I am just trying to get to the point, I don't like to dance around issues”

I took an unnecessary gulp like Carlisle would do when he would break bad news to me.

“I love you”

The pencil he had his hand fell to the ground and that was the only noise that was heard after my words. 

“I know you're probably thinking, how cruel can I be to say that after everything that has happened between us but it's the truth. It's always had love for you within me but I was scared to open that door, you see I wish we could turn back time and I could explain to you everything that has been going through my mind before that fateful day. I wanted to tell you something but you left before I could and-”

“Then explain to me why you have acted like a child”

His voice lost its sharpness, instead it was soft, the same softness his eyes reflected currently. I wanted to melt on the spot by how sweet he looked.

“Before I was turned, my father would display me like some doll to show others of my availability as a wife, when he was not looking the men he was presenting me to would basically undress me with there eyes, some of them would be brave enough and leave lingering touches on me after I would shake their hands, the only males in my life I trusted after that was Carlisle, even in my time when we were apart I was never near civilization, I feared for the day I would have to be around others.” He stood up from his stool but he stayed at a distance from me still.

“When I saw you I thought it was time to heal completely from my trauma, but with the way you would approach me it gave me slight flashbacks from the past, and it made me recoil from you a bit, but at the same time I wanted to be by your side. What didn't even help my case was I had a fear of not being enough for you. How can a vampire like me who has such fears be worthy of a king like you? You deserve someone who doesn't still feel an ick when she’s around others for too long. I felt if we were to talk sooner then we wouldn't be in this position but no you just did a quick and go, made me feel unworthy of your time even”

I wanted to say more but I decided to give Caius a space to talk also, I wrapped my arms around myself for comfort and looked away from him. I feel exposed and anxious just standing here in silence, waiting for him to say something. Please say something already.

“I was not expecting you to even start this with those words”

I knew it was strange to say that but I mean I wanted to reassure him I do have feelings for him.

“I think you make a great point in we should of had a civil conversation at the start of this to avoid our current issues, I-I apologize for my behavior, it was uncalled for and inappropriate of me to try to nurture our bond by seducing you in such a way, you should of been treated like a queen with respect and love. But you are wrong of not deserving me, on the contrary I feel like it's the opposite, you deserve someone better than me, after all the shit I put you through without knowing what you been through, Marcus advised me to be there for you and yet I was hardly there”

I felt my eyes fill with venom again but I was still not looking at him so he was not aware of how I was reacting to his declaration. 

“But at the same time I thought it was a bit foolish of you to try to back away from me, you should know from now on that when it comes to you, you can tell me whatever you want, no matter how harsh or straight forward your words might get, I can take it, you are my mate after all. I never want you to feel uncomfortable around me or feel the need to distance yourself from me either because I cannot bare being separated from you, incase you haven’t noticed I haven't been feeding lately either, much like I can see from your once glowing amber eyes that I manage to fall for, but back on topic we can work on your healing process together, no matter how long it takes we do have forever after all”

I looked up at him finally to be met with eyes filled with venom too. Not really having control over my mind or body I ran to him to pull him into a deep hug. His arms not thinking twice wrapped around me like if it were second nature to him. At that moment it felt as if our issues never existed and we were happy once again, so this is how Marcus felt with Didyme, now I understand why he was so worried for us. I would rather kill every being who dared to harm Caius in any way, than to see him suffer anymore than he needs. We fit perfectly into each other, it felt like we were molded into one another, it felt like home. I'm finally home in the arms of a man I can trust and…love. 

I looked up at him and gave his cheek a kiss. I was going to kiss his lips but decided to pull a Caius in this situation with a simple “Com tempo”. He smiled lazily at me at the sudden realization that I used the same two words he said to me a while back. 

“I'm willing to go into this bond fully, no more avoiding you because that only causes more harm for us. I don't want to be separated from you either because with all honesty the moment I saw your eyes I was enchanted by you, for a moment I saw a whole future with you and even though I was recoiling from you after each encounter with you, I couldn't help but fall for you a bit each time. Even that kiss made my stomach weirdly flip” 

He caressed my cheek with his thumb while his other arm was wrapped snugly around my waist as we was listening to me. Whereas my hands rested on his chest, I was trying very hard not to look at his exposed chest and or his collarbone, because even this small exposure of skin looked like art. 

“I vow to never become one of those filthy sorry excuses of men, if I could I would hunt them down one by one and drain them completely. No one will harm you, I would certainly never dream of creating such misery for you. But why don't we take some time to spend together and just get everything out. Hmm?”

“I would love that Caius”

He leaned in to give my forehead a tenderful kiss that would have woken Sleeping Beauty herself up. 

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

Epilogue 

‘Dear Carlisle, 

As I write to you, me and Caius have come to be in a better position. We are spending more time together and we have brought up any miscommunication we failed to address from the beginning and solved them up one by one. We are at a point where I feel like we have known each other since the beginning of time. I never felt more at home since before mother passed. Caius really is my other half, we even spend hours in his art room, drawing whatever. He tends to create masterpieces of me being his muse. I even included a painting to this package I am sending of the painting I did from my garden here in Volterra.

I feel more comfortable around the others even, that ick I would tell you about is finally gone and I could spend hours with the guards who I have grown close to. I can never forget to tell you how whenever I talk to Marcus, I see a piece of you in him, I miss you so much but this is the closest I have to having you near me. I hope you and Esme plus the kids are doing well enough. Maybe soon enough we'll see each other, and tell Alice I forgive her, I now know her true intentions and I thank her”

Love y/n”

As Carlisle finished reading out loud the letter to Esme he smiled at the part of seeing his sister soon. But he did not forget to mention to Esme a ‘Finally” after realizing his sister is finally happy with her mate.

[clanwarrior-tumbly]

Hello Clan, I was wondering if you could do the glams (including Bonnie and Foxy) and the daycare attendents learning that a worker reader has hearing aids that are usually hidden by their hair or a hat and that the hearing aid has a sticker themed around them, for example: a lightning bolt for Freddy, a checkered flag for Roxy, a cupcake for Chica, a music note or maybe golf clubs for Monty, a bowling pin for Bonnie, a skull for Foxy, a star for Moon, and a cloud for Sun.

I understand if you can't do all of them

No worries! But I couldn't figure out anything for Foxy, sorry-

I did my best research on writing for characters w/ hearing aids, so if there's anything I missed/got wrong I apologize!

......

Glamrock Freddy

He's seen you around the pizzaplex over the past month, although at times he gets confused when you don't respond to his greetings unless he's standing right in front of you.

But he assumes you're just busy and doesn't mind it much.

When you're assigned as his handler to help him keep up with all the events lined up this week (photo-ops, meet and greets, performances, birthdays, etc.), he finally gets to know you on a more personal level.

One evening, you're removing confetti strips and candy wrappers from his stomach hatch (in summary, the pinata's string got caught in the mechanisms during transport and ripped apart when the hatch opened), briefly removing your hat to wipe the sweat from your forehead.

Freddy takes notice of the little devices in/around your ears, and suddenly it all clicks.

"[Y/n], if I may ask...are those your hearing aids?" The curious bear points to his own ears.

"Yep, glad you finally noticed." You chuckled, but he didn't catch your sarcasm.

"My apologies for sounding intrusive. I've just never seen them before."

"Oh you're okay, Freddy. I don't like to make a big deal out of them...unless some guest calls me "deaf" as an insult." You muttered, about to put your hat back on when you notice him still staring at you. "What's up?"

"Are those...blue lightning bolt stickers?" He gasps. "They look just like mine."

"...that's because they are." You smile, turning your head to show him the designs.

His heart is thoroughly touched.

"Aww..you themed them after me? Your favorite bear?" He coos, to which you huff and hide them with your hat.

"Yeah, yeah..I'll admit you're my favorite. Now don't go bragging about it to everyone else."

Roxanne Wolf

Working at the raceway was sometimes sensory hell for you, with your hearing aids constantly absorbing the sounds of noisy karts or screaming kids.

The worst was the construction work.

So you switch them off sometimes when you're busy with a task, as hearing gets tiring--especially in these parts of the pizzaplex.

One day, however, Roxy walked over to ask if you could supervise Cassie's birthday party...only to see you blatantly ignoring her.

She would've been annoyed, had her eyes not seen the aids hidden by your hat/hair.

Oddly enough she never noticed them before...

She just taps your shoulder politely, getting your attention as you turn them back on. "Oh hey, Roxy. What's up?"

She repeats her question, but you still struggle to hear her, so you both go somewhere outside the raceway to talk.

Once you understand what she's asking, you head to the atrium to assist with any final preparations, but along the way she inquires about the aids.

"Oh! There's something I've been meaning to show you." You reveal the checkered flag stickers, surprising the wolf. And you smile at her growing grin. "Yeah, I knew you'd love 'em."

"They're really cool. So I guess you can just..tune out all the ruckus of the raceway whenever you want?"

"It does get overwhelming at times, so yeah..I had them off. Sorry if it seemed like I was ignoring you-"

"Nah, I understand now. But listen, if anyone gives you trouble over them, you let me know. Alright?"

"..I will. Thank you, Roxy."

"Of course. It's the least I can do for my favorite human worker." She chuckles.

Glamrock Chica

The incident where Chica's upgraded voicebox horribly malfunctioned would have surely overloaded your already sensitive hearing.

You were supervising her performance, but at the first sign something was wrong you took your aids out and dodged the chaos that followed, leaving to file an incident report.

As a lead tech, however, you're summoned to run diagnostics on her voicebox in parts and services (as apparently nobody else wanted to do it).

You kept your aids off in case things go awry again, but when Chica wakes up, she's 100% convinced that she broke them and you're angry at her.

She was informed that you use them, though she's never actually seen them.

Plus you were closest to her when it happened. If her voice could damage that many STAFF bots...then surely your aids weren't spared, either.

"Well, Chica..the good news is that we don't have to replace any of your speaking components." You explain, not realizing her sadness at first. "But I recommend you don't sing for a while and stick to the guitar. Just to play it safe."

"Oh, okay....I-I'm sorry....I really am..." She sulks in the chair.

"It's not your fault. I kept telling them not to rush the upgrade, but no one ever listens to-"

"BWAK?!!" Then she jumps, surprised. "You can hear me! I-I didn't break them..?"

"Huh? Oh..no, no, no. They're fine, Chica." You reassure her softly. "They're totally fine. See?"

Taking one aid out, you show her the cupcake sticker you put on it in hopes of cheering her up, watching the relieved smile return to her beak.

Montgomery Gator

If any place in the pizzaplex is loud (besides Roxy's Raceway), it's Gator Golf.

Should the ambience or the bass of Monty's instrument be too noisy for your hearing aids to handle, you can easily take them out or switch them off.

You can always hear his voice given how he talks in general, but if he's speaking directly to you, you'll have to put them back on.

The first time this happens, however, he sees them for a split second before they're hidden by your hat/hair and immediately assumes they're earbuds for music.

In his eyes, you suddenly decided to ignore him and he's not happy.

"So that's how it is, huh?" He snarls, already being in a bad mood as is. "I ain't fun to talk to anymore? You'd rather listen to your stupid human music than mine!?"

"Monty, what on earth are you talking about?" You blink in bewilderment. His hostility usually didn't come out of nowhere like this. "I don't have any music in-"

"Then what didja just stick in your ears?!" He points, glaring at you over his glasses.

"..my hearing aids?"

There's a long, awkward pause.

"...y'know, the things that let me hear you?"

"Ohhh..that's what they are? How long have ya had those for?"

"Most of my life." You smile apologetically, seeing him fumble and backtrack whatever he said before. "It's okay, Monty. I should've told you about them before....you wanna see something cool?"

Showing him your aids, he sees the golf club stickers on them and grins, no longer as grumpy as before. "Awh yeah!! Wait....did ya put those there 'cuz you like golf..or me?"

"I chose this design because of you, big guy." You chuckle.

Glamrock Bonnie

You were Bonnie's main handler, so you two have spent nearly every moment of your shift together.

He's been aware of your hearing aids since day one, complimenting the cute little bowling pin stickers you plastered on them and chastising any person who gave you a hard time about wearing them.

Sadly you never got closure on what exactly happened after he went "missing"...only to discover his shattered body stowed behind Bonnie Bowl months later.

He had claw marks inconsistent with what Monty's hands could have possibly done (not that you believed the gator was ever guilty of attacking him despite the rumors).

You fought tooth and nail to get approval from management to repair him, working tirelessly in parts and services--even doing overtime just to bring him back.

When Bonnie finally reactivated after weeks of trial and error, he nearly looked good as new.

Except...he doesn't remember you, and there's corruption in his memory files from the night he left his green room and went into Gator Golf.

He insists he was following somebody's orders, but can't specify anything beyond that.

"I'm sorry..I'm not much help, am I?"

"No, but...I suppose you should know that Monty's taken your place in the band in your absence." You regrettably inform him, seeing how sad he looks. "But if it's any help...you're still my favorite."

Taking off your hat, you show him the now faded bowling pin stickers that remained on your aids, and he stares for a while.

Then you see his eyes flicker with recognition as a smile grows on his face.

"[Y/n]...thank goodness you're still here! I-Is Freddy okay?"

Sun

He's definitely had deaf kids (both with and without hearing aids) come into the daycare, and he tries his best to give them a fun and accommodating experience during their stay.

So right off the bat, he knows you wear aids and often tries communicating with you in sign language.

Whether you're well-versed in that or still learning, you appreciate his efforts.

But you sometimes have to remind him that you can still talk to him as you normally would.

You show him the stickers on your aids--a cloud covering a sun, to be more precise--and he's totally ecstatic.

And I mean "jumping up and down cheering" ecstatic bc now he knows you picked those stickers because of him!! Because he's your favorite!!

Physically he's there but mentally he's the "yippee" autism creature

Sometimes you gotta lower the volume on your aids with how loud he accidentally can be, and he notices this fast.

"Oh! I'm sorry, sorry, sorry!! So sorry!!" He fumbles. "Can I add something to the stickers maybe??? Googly eyes??? Glitter glue to make them shimmer and shine???"

"Thank you, Sun..but they're fine this way." You insist. "I don't want any glue dripping into my ears."

"Right! O-Of course!! We wouldn't want that now, would we? No glitter glue going into your brain!!"

Moon

The lunar animatronic, on the other hand, takes a bit longer to notice your hearing aids (considering how dark the daycare gets during the night cycle, he doesn't notice much).

When he does, he'll ask you some questions.

Like how long you've had them, how well they tune out background noise, etc.

It's all out of genuine curiosity, and you tell him whatever you knew, taking one of the aids out to show it to him.

And only then he examines the star-shaped stickers on them, staring for a while.

At first he automatically assumes they're themed after one of the Glamrocks...until you mentioned how similar they are to the stars on his hat and pants.

Finally, the gears in his mind click together.

"So you're saying....my outfit inspired you when you picked out these stickers?"

"Yep."

"How sweet of you, [y/n]...they look very nice. Glad I could be your muse." He snickers.

You never see it, but he's gonna be gushing over this every time you're working in the daycare now.

None of your coworkers paid any mind to Moon. They usually called him creepy or avoid conversing with him should they absolutely have to cross paths.

But you go out of your way to see him whenever possible; and the stickers are just a subtle yet sweet way of reminding him that he's always gonna be your favorite.

[wisteriasonthemoon]

Do coincidences strike twice?

oh yeah, my replay. I got distracted. I was in chapter 1, at the very first free-time event

this is a great place to start blogging about it again, because there's a question that has been bugging me that Kokichi's event provides great context for. I would like to call upon fandom collective memory for a potential answer

in his FTE #1, Kokichi claims that he and Kaede have met before, but she's forgotten about him. after Kaede questions him, Kokichi goes into a very short story about how they supposedly met. he then rescinds his claim

Kokichi: Hmmm, let's see. We met... Kokichi: ...under hostile circumstances similar to this. Kaede: Huh? Kokichi: You sheltered me while I was on the run from my enemies. With your piano skills, you managed to raise enough money to fund my escape... Kokichi: But then I betrayed you! I sold you out to my enemies and you were swiftly killed! Kaede, thinking: Th-there is no freaking way any of that is true... Kaede: That was all a lie! Kokichi: Yup, it sure was! We met each other here! I can't believe you fell for that, Kaede. You're such a sucker. Kaede: Geez... Kaede, thinking: Yeah... This is the sort of prank a kid who wants attention would pull.

because of the fantastical and vague nature of the story, Kaede dismisses him without much consideration and some agitation, yada yada, Kaede leaves annoyed

okay, context established. smash cut. tumblr town time now

so, there's this DRV3 theory post from 2021 by tumblr user fit-artichoke8738 that I really enjoy. well, I say theory post, but it doesn't attempt to conclude anything about the game or its' mysteries. it's more of a musing connection between two background details: the DICE logo and Kaede's research lab door

for those of you who didn't click the link, basically, Kaede's research lab door resembles the right half of the DICE logo. or, to put it another way, the right half of the DICE logo resembles piano keys. like this

that's it, that's the whole post. fit-artichoke8738 doesn't further speculate. which is all well and good, because although nobody points it out in the notes, the right half of the DICE logo is ... the "C" and "E" in DICE ...

... probably??? right???

which means this could easily be explained as an artistic coincidence. both are black and white, composed of common shapes, and the devs might have not been thinking about the similarities given all the time and work that goes into creating a game like DRV3

I have an addition though. is this *also* an artistic coincidence

IS IT?

did the devs consciously choose to write Kokichi doing a "you were my ally once! psych!" rug pull on Kaede in his first free-time event with her and then they just. spilled paint and accidentally made this design on her shirt

a design, btw, that I am aware is officially listed in the DRV3 in-game gallery as her former high school emblem. it also names the school as "Shining Star International High School". it's a reference to Seisa International, a real conglomerate of International schools in Japan, or so claims the danganronpa.fandom wiki

the only post I can find of similar speculation is from 2020 on VK, a Russian social media, where someone else pulls "LIE" out of the same emblem, just without utilizing the whole thing

and jokes aside, I can guess why this isn't talked about much. this is a background detail, the framework that most people (seem to) view the truth of DRV3 is through Tsumugi's game-show explanation, and there are several ways to dismiss the "DICE" reading, including but not limited to the fact that Kaede has a very inconsistently rendered emblem between her cut-scenes and sprites

but I expected to be able to *find* that dismissal. like "oh. that's weird. ANYWAY." kind of posts. nada. am I missing them??? where are they??? I'd love to understand where the logic for current DRV3 interpretations comes from. the lack of theory discussion these days makes that difficult for me. might as well start with what happened with this idea, since I'm interested in it

if anybody knows, that would be cool. and with that out of my system. I'll resume replay next weekend. maaaaaybe tomorrow

[vividsmashing-exploration]

So, I was watching a Youtube video on how Humans came to be Human. It never really clicked that the other species that died out while we survived were... well, Human too. Homo-Erectus, Neanderthal, Denicovin, all humans, but we are the survivors, Homo-Sapiens.

But what if this wasn't the case for alien species? They may have come together in mind, with the same goals, but their biology never homogenized. The multiple species that made up the intelligent life on a planet coexisted, or at least didn't outright murder one another. Would these species find our existence sad? Or maybe they'd be fascinated by that.

Credit where it's due, this is what I was watching: https://youtu.be/wzwXGD_C4P0

In any case, it inspired me to write my first entry to the Humans are Space Orcs Category. Enjoy.

======================================

Field Medic Dana Ortigez was finishing up a report in the crew mess hall of the GFS Tortuga. Her meal had long gone cold as she considered how to write her statement in a way that would be translated favorably for other species to read. A few more agonizing minutes thinking on that sent her off to the Engineering wing. Since she still had difficulty remembering proper grammar for Rhyashaz, perhaps talking through it with one of her nonhuman crewmates could help.

The Tortuga was a human designed research vessel, made for deep space exploration and experimentation. As one of the newest races, the humans had no end of alien coworkers to help man the ship. Conversation was still spotty at times, but there was a certain harmony that overcame these obstacles. The alien Dana was looking for now was a Cryys-Tretchan, a bipedal insectoid species that had also come from a Death World.

Arriving in the center of the ship, Dana confidently strode through an automated door and bumped into a small group of Engineers she had wanted to find.

"Oh- Hi, sorry. Do you um... know where Tchyyk is?"

They were all Cryys, but each one had a tweaked morphology, beyond small changes like height or build. The clicking and chattering coming from their mandibles forced Dana's translator to take a moment, but after a few seconds, the conversation began flowing.

"Xey are... nearby. Xe can tell you, but xe have a question that must be answered." The statement had come from the smallest of the Cryys, a ladybug-adjacent creature with a vibrant, metallic purple carapace. Dana looked down at the Cryys, internally panicking, trying to remember a name. Nothing was coming. She smiled awkwardly, a tight-lipped, toothless affair as she nodded.

"Alright, I guess I have time for that. What do you want to know?"

The chittering comes through, and the translation follows close behind. "Where are the rest of you?"

Dana blinks slowly. "I don't think I understand."

"We were told much of humans, like that they were different shapes and sizes and colors. But all of you look the same. Some different color, all the same."

Dana's confusion only grew, until it dawned on her. Her Medical briefing had touched on how the Cryys were a multispecies spacefaring part of the Federation. Her heart sank.

"You mean, why aren't there more kinds of humans?"

The bug's clacking mandibles clearly signaled confirmation of her statement. "Yes. Do they have special roles in Human colonies?"

Dana shook her head. "No. We don't have them anymore. We're the only species of human."

"Anymore? What happened to them?"

Dana could feel her cheeks redden in shame as she considered the best answer.

"We don't know. There were many different kinds of humans once, before farming was ever an idea in our mind. Neanderthals are the most well known, but there were at least four other species. We have theories on how they disappeared. Everything from natural selection, to our species murdering them. We just... don't know."

The translation took a few seconds. The curious chirping and chittering gave way to cryys noises of shock and awe... as well as disgust.

"How did you come this far?"

To that, Dana smiled sadly.

"Because we're too stubborn to die. Because we overtook everything. Because war. There are so many possible factors, and there could be things that we don't know about today. What we do know is that we were close enough biologically to reproduce. We still have a large percentage of their DNA swimming around inside us. That's all that's left of our sibling species."

The chittering had long gone quiet, allowing Dana to finish to a silent hallway. Clearing her throat, she nodded to the smallest Cryys.

"So, uh, where's Taaniks?"

----

When human-Dana finally walked away, Dres-Gryyk clicked Xer mandibles together slowly, indicating xer sadness.

The smallest Cryys, Roniks-Maar, looked back to Dres with a confused posture.

"What is wrong, Dres-gryyk? Biologist Dana answered your questions."

"She did. It makes me wonder if we had the kinder death world... to think they killed their sister species."

"Humans are odd. She was likely making her kind sound more ferocious, it is nothing to worry about."

In truth, though, it worried Roniks greatly. Xey would be writing a report to Xer superior about it soon.

[blue-sadie]

Would u do an update to bully as a brother where neteyam is much better to his siblings and the reader

A Caring Brother

Neteyam x Sibling Reader

Summary: neteyam has a lot to make up for and he'll do his best to make it work

Warning: platonic

3rd person pov

Neteyam had changed and everyone had noticed, you noticed, your parents and siblings even some village people had noticed the change he started becoming the brother you always wanted always dreamed of having.

Neteyam and yn walked through the woods silently following a bit behind their other siblings, Lo'ak and spider bickering sounded like dying crows their voices echoing through the forest probably scaring away the wild life.

"They never know how to shut up" neteyams voice dwindled as he glanced at yn who nodded silently, he noticed yn was still a bit distant from him even though he tried everything to make her forgive him.

He thought in silence as his eyes looked ahead he's tried a few things, getting and making her favorite meal, taking her around showing her everything he's found on his ikran and even making her a new bow but she'd rather use the one she made.

The guilt of the things he's done to her tugged at her heart all the things he said to her weren't true and he's realized that now, he finally sees her and all the heart ache she suffers through daily, he sees the way the village treats her differently to the rest he sees how his own mother is somewhat cut off from her.

He's only realized now that it wasn't her fault she was born this way, yn was just there and she did nothing to deserve this she was nothing but kind, neteyam glanced at yn one last time to see her looking off into the distance the plants that glowed illuminating her face.

He smiled slightly and turned walking away from the group further into the forest looking for materials he could use to make a gift and he'll make it a very special one.

He grabbed vines, gem stones and brightly colored plants and hurried home to get to work.

He weaved the vines into a beautiful dress adding the gem stones and plants to make a decorative design, you guys hadn't returned yet and he was actually thankful for once he sighed out and stood back to admire his work the colors would complement your skin perfectly.

He placed the dress in your favorite corner and waited for your return he waited and waited and with each passing hour he grew anxious "dad...." he heard your wavering voice from the coms and he saw his dad's fultering hands to press the button to respond.

"Yes yn what's wrong my girl" he could see jakes eyebrows frown with concern "I I don't know where they went I was right behind them I promise" yn rumbled and neteyam grimaced you do it when your nervous or afraid "your not back" jake asked standing from his seat "hello my family" all of they eyes snapped to lo'ak and the others and jakes hand flew to his mouth shushing him.

"Yn where are you tell me where you are" jake muttered hurriedly as he exited their tent neteyam flew to his feet following him closely "I-I don't really know the only place I recognize is by the old home tree" neteyam frowned "why are you there" neteyam asked as he spoke on his intercoms "I fell and I guess they didn't hear me and left but I'm really starting to get cold" neteyam could hear you shiver through the coms and he honestly felt bad he shouldn't have left you.

"Anything else you could tell us about your where abouts" jake asked as they climbed onto their ikrans and were quick to fly out "by a stream theirs lots of those old helicopter thingies around here dad" neteyam thought for a second and then it clicked "I know where she is" he called to his dad who nodded and started following him, they found yn in a matter of 25 minutes and once neteyam landed he felt more guilt.

Jake and neteyam hurried to yns shivering for a few scratches and cuts littered yns legs little droplets of blood running down yns leg, yn looked up at them with guilt.

They could see dried tear stains running down your cheeks and neteyam was quick to help you to your feet and brought you over to his ikran helping you on and settled behind you, he felt you relax back into him "sleep, you look tired" he murmured and you hummed but didn't fall into the temptation of slumber.

"Sleep I'll look after you, like I always should have and I'm sorry I haven't but I'll make up for it I promise"

[triglycercule]

who asked for this. nobody. but unfortunately as a creator i actually have to CREATE for my au 😞😞😞😒😒😒 jk fashion au ink and swap designs ig,,,,,,

ink. ink. ink. she's totally not holding a gun to my head as i type this,,,,, because she CANT break the fourth wall ok she totally doesnt realize that she's forever gonna be stuck living life as a high schooler with no chance of ever graduating or progressing in life,,,,, BECAUSE THERE'S NO ANGST IN JK FASHION AU HAAHAHAH 😁😁😁😁 anyways she's soooo silly :3333 i'm not a connoisseur of anyone that's not the mtt (biased 🙂🙂🙂) but i wanted her to be silly but also a bit freakish,,,, ya!

what do the people think about INK???? featuring everyone in jk fashion au so far 😇😇

dream: "ink is another one of my close friends. she's been there for me when even nightmare couldn't, and i've supported her likewise. sometimes her head is in the clouds, so i send her texts to remind her of things like homework and such. maybe she forgets lunch sometimes, so swap and i give her a share of ours. and when ink wants to talk about anything she's thinking of, whether it's a painter's use of color or the reason we exist, i'm always open to listening. she's an amazing person, really."

nightmare: "ink. ah, that girl is an enigma, truly. somedays she supports me on my path to world domination, and other days she just laughs at me and says as if it were a fact that i would never achieve it! ugh... but despite my slight grievances, she's dream's friend, and i've grown fond of her. quite often, without me even requesting, she gifts me paintings. now, they may seem normal at first, but recently i've discovered a pattern with them. as if ink had peered into the mind of god and depicted it visually, the paintings assist me in handling dream appropriately. i must say, she's skilled as well..."

killer: "see now ink? she's my type of gal. we get along pretty well, hehe! we're on the same wavelength or something, i dunno. not like she can predict what i do, but i wouldn't be surprised if she could, but ink and i just click. we talk about all sorts of silly stuff; similar sense of humor, after all. ink and i can yap about different shows and movies we've watched and stuff, she gives really good insight on the more technical stuff like color psychology and framing, and she once drew me art for one of my big follower milestones on twitter! she's suuuuper cool, haha!"

dust: "okay, just... keep this between me and you, but i think ink has some sort of secret sixth sense? i dunno. nothing against her, she's a fun person. just that, uh... sometimes she just comes up to me when i least expect it and starts asking me about my progress on my writing. which is... confusing. i've only ever told killer and horror about my writing, so i don't know how she knows...?"

horror: "y'know, dust and i have a bit of a bet going on. all jokes and all, but i've got a feeling ink's pulling some sort of elaborate spying prank with how much she knows about us... dust doesn't think so. but i'm betting 20 bucks she does. like, once i was at a vending machine and the stupid thing didn't give me my goddamn candy bar, ugh. i had to stay cool. but then ink just pops out of nowhere, says its okay for me to drop the act and get mad around her, and then does some sort of vending machine trick to get the candy?? yeah, she's definitely a wizard or something. in a nice way, i guess."

NOW SWWAAAAAAPPP she's silly. i included the bit of her getting into trouble because of her good will SOLELY because swap gets bullied a lot in other aus 💀 (askerror, something new, etc,,,,,,) i also read a canon underswap doc??? SWAP IS SO SILLY!!!!! i cant really explain her personality through text i'd need to draw comics for her which uhhhh,,,,, (looks away)

THOUGHTS ON SWAP????

dream: "ah, swap! she's one of my dearest friends, i truly care for her deeply. out of sheer coincidence it seems, that she, ink, and i were chosen to be the star students of the school, but surprisingly it works out well... swap's truly a delight. she's a great motivator, and she's saved me from a few situations that would've ended up terribly had she not been there, hehe."

nightmare: "sometimes the world hates me. ah- well, what i meant was, the path of fate has me set on a predetermined path of struggle! and yet, when even i, the queen of negativity, could not stop my kin from slipping on a ridiculously placed banana peel and almost breaking her neck, swap was her knight in shining armor and caught her. needless to say, just as fate despises my bloodline, fate also has angels sent down from heaven. i do suppose swap is one of those, bless her soul."

killer: "heh, swap?? that girl's a riot! couple years ago i tried convincing her to show me some of those sick moves she learned at kickboxing, or karate, taekwondo, whatever... she broke my wrist, haha! but then i pulled a knife on her and then we both got in trouble. hah, good times, good times. no, i didn't stab her?! in fact, she's very good friends with mr. mew and the grumpen, thank you very much! a friend of my kitties is a friend of mine!"

dust: "she's nice. her type of energy is something you only see is like... a sugar-rushed ink, and killer normally. but anyways, swap's a good help around the school. she's a bit ridiculous every now and then with all her "the magnificent swap" and how she's a bit of a showoff, but whatever. aren't we all? anyways, at least the scavenger hunts she makes during school dances are fun."

horror: "swap is uh... she's something. gotta admit, she's pretty normal compared to some of the people at this school. but man... enthusiasm, much? eh, whatever. i'm not the type to complain when her burritos are to die for. we're partners in cooking class... let's just say, she carries us hard."

anyways jk cross and epic soon. sooner than you think heheheh

[newwritergirl]

Starting over | Part 13

Masterlist

Summary: After another date with Jake and Bradley, y/n's upcomming migraine will not stay the only problem. The Admiral und Maverick have bad news for the aviators.

Trigger Warnings: 18+! Minors DNI, past abusive relationship, toxic male, migraine, throwing up, au and ooc, poly relationship

A/N: This chapter is a bit longer but I didn't want to split it. Please let me know what you think.

Word Count: 5.4+ k

"Wow, Hangman. I must admit you look really good in a suit." Rooster steps into the kitchen where the blonde pilot stands at the kitchen island waiting for their partners to get ready. He strokes softly over Jake's back, getting a smirk from the other man as a reply.

"Where's y/n? We need to go in the next five minutes." Jake asks impatiently but taking the chance to take a look at Bradley who wears a crisp white button down, the first two buttons open which gives a sneak of his muscular chest and a black suit.

"Princess, Jake is a bit impa-" Bradley nearly chokes on his own words when y/n steps out of her bedroom. Her short and tight black dress is hugging her body perfectly. "I'm ready, is this ok?" She turns around to give her boyfriends an all over view of her chosen dress. She's clearly not wearing a bra in the backless garment. Jake turns around when he hears the clicking of heels on the hard wood floor.

"Good Lord, sweet Jesus help me…" The blonde aviator takes a step closer to meet his girlfriend half way, taking one of her smaller hands in his and turning her around to get one more look at her bare back. "…okay? This is not okay, sweetheart. This is fucking amazing. You look so amazing. Beautiful. I guess Bradley also wouldn't mind if we stay here and enjoying the view." He kisses her head.

"Oh no, guys. You promised me another date. So here I am." The young woman says with an excited smile. She looked forward to their date, just the three of them enjoying a slow night out in a fancy restaurant.

"You're right, princess. Let's go, otherwise we gonna be late and we have to be at work tomorrow, so let's enjoy our evening." The brunette aviator tucks y/n in his side, gently caressing her bare back. "But Jake's right, you look absolutely amazing. We have to keep a close eye on you otherwise some rich guy will steal you from us."

---

The restaurant the boys chose to have their date with y/n was amazing. Not too snobbish but fancy enough to spoil their girlfriend rotten. Unfortunately they all have to work tomorrow but with Rooster as the designated driver Jake and y/n share an expensive bottle of wine. But during the five-course menu y/n feels that something is wrong. She knows this strange taste in her mouth, it often is a clear sign for an incoming migraine attack. When she's really lucky it will be the only symptom despite a small headache, but on her bad days it means that a bad migraine will attack in the next hours or at the next day.

"You not so hungry anymore, princess?" Bradley asks as he sees his girlfriend second plate still half full despite the small portions.

Y/n doesn't want to crash their night. Jake had to pull some strings to get a reservation at short notice and all three of them were happy when he announced that he got a table for three for that night. No, she can't tell them her bad feeling about the very prominent metallic taste in her mouth and how the smell of the food is currently too strong for her. She has to stay put and hope that this will not turn out as a bad attack and praying that she will get off lightly this time. In the past she often felt ashamed when she fell ill, either her kidney acting up or her migraine coming back. Being vulnerable and asking for help is something she had to learn when she moved in with the two naval pilots. They were always supporting and caring when she felt sick but still she is a bit afraid that there will come the day when it's going to be too much for the two men, when they're annoyed that she is once more sick or feeling bad from a nasty headache.

"Sure I am, but there are three more courses to come and I'm excited for the dessert. Meringue with ice cream and fruits is my weakness." Y/n tries to reassure her boyfriends. Don't show them weakness, they're going to leave you one day. Who wants to always take care of their whiny girlfriend?

---

Fortunately y/n got through the evening without a grand attack. The metallic taste stayed in her mouth a dull pressure built up in her head but other than that she was spared of feeling worse.

Now laying in bed with Jake and Bradley brings her the much needed rest. With her smaller form in the middle of both pilots she feels safe and loved. Soon her eyes drop shut.

Jake doesn't know what woke him up in the middle of the night. With one tired glance at the clock on the nightstand he knows that it's way too early for his alarm. Another kick lands to his thigh not strong enough to hurt him but enough to wake him up. He turns around and is just fast enough to catch the small fist of his girlfriend before it lands in his face. That must've been the reason for his early awakening. Y/n is trashing and moving in her sleep. Usually she's a very calm sleeper, when she doesn't suffer from a nightmare. But today she's constantly moving and turning in her sleep, the sheets already tangled around her body. Small whimpers leaving her occasionally. It's still dark in the bedroom but Jake's eyes adjust fast so he can clearly see the crease on his girlfriend's face. With a gentle touch he strokes some stray wisps of her hair behind her ear. With his thumb he gently runs over her forehead in a soothing manner. It seems like her dream isn't so bad that he has to wake her up, she's not crying or screaming in her sleep, just mumbling some unintelligible words so he tries to sooth her while she's still asleep. Waking her up from her deep slumber is always startling her and he doesn't want to scare so he tries to calm her down this way. The blonde aviator tucks her into his warm chest after he untangled her limps from the blanket and lays it over both of them to keep her somewhat chilled body warm. In a hushed and soft voice he whispers sweet nothing into her ear when she once more tries to kick her legs and pushes her hand into his chest. "Shhh, you're safe, babygirl. It's just me Jake-y. I got you, baby."

---

“Are you ready to go? Where’s y/n?” Bradley asks as he put his mug away in the dishwasher already in his navy clothes ready to start the day and head to the base.

Jake was the first of the three to wake up and get out of the warm comfort of the bed. There was no use in staying any longer. He had a hard night with y/n trashing and wiggling in his arms. He held her close and soothed her but shortly after he fell asleep she started to whimper and turning again.

“I let her sleep a bit longer. She had a rough night, kept tossing and turning. Even kicked and hit me. Don’t what was wrong with her, but I guess she needed a bit more sleep this morning. We will meet you at the base.”

Bradley looks concerned when his partner tells him about the bad night y/h had. Hopefully it stays the exception. Since the three of them were in a relationship and they often sleep together in a bed y/n hasn’t had a bad night or a night terror.

“Oh okay. I keep your class on their toes until you arrive.” The brunette pilot places a kiss on Hangman’s cheek and hurries out the door, that way at least one of them will be on time.

---

Waking up dizzy and still with the metallic taste in her mouth y/n immediately knows that her day is going to be rough. She feels like she hasn’t slept one bit this night, her limps feeling heavy and a dull ache is forming behind her eyes. But she has to get up now and get ready for work. She has tasks she wants to finish today and to call in sick is definitely not an option. She will drag herself through the day without alerting her boyfriends that something is wrong with her and just go to bed early in the evening. Yes, that’s seems to be the best battle plan but only if the major migraine attack stays away.

---

Jake and Bradley are busy with training their recruits and to prepare them for their flight training later that day. Y/n is thankful for that for once, so she can suffer in her office in silence. When her mobile chirps and alerts her that she has a notification she’s happy to see that it’s a message from Bradley. She unlocks her phone and is greeted with a cute selfie of both her boys standing in all their glory already wearing their flight suits.

Roo-y: Hello Princess. We’re about to start the flight training. Having a tight schedule today <3 We’ll see u in the afternoon. Love u!

Her heart starts to pick up. She really loves these two morons. She types a fast reply in hopes that they will see her message before they start their jets.

Looking all good in your fight suits *.* Please be careful. See u later <3

She wants to desperately write an ‘I love you’ back, but wants her first ‘I love you’ to be told in person. She wants to see their faces, looking in their eyes. And she needs a bit more courage to do so.

---

It always starts this way, with a blind spot in the middle of her field of vision which will spread soon to the edges until it will morph into tiny little flashes. The dull ache behind her eyes is now slowly developing into full migraine attack. The letters and numbers on the sheet in front of her are growing hazy and the midday sun which filters through her office windows feels like a knife stabs in her sensitive eyes. This is going to be bad with no way out for the young woman. She knows the drill. Soon she will be dizzy and nauseous with a skull piercing headache which makes her incapable of acting. Her hands start to shake, what is she going to do? Both Bradley and Jake are in the air now, probably will be there for some more time. She has to try to sustain for some hours until they’re ready to drive her home. With trembling hands she rummages through the drawer of her wooden desk, desperately searching for some painkillers to take away the edge of the splitting headache. The items in the drawer are all blurred and it’s hard for the young woman to think straight. Dizzy and with weak legs she stands up from her desk, she needs to get to the bathroom. Cold water on her wrists should help with her dizziness a tiny bit. She nearly collapses before she can even get to her closed office door. A loud knock is bringing her out of her confused thoughts.

“Ms. y/ln. I just got that… Ms. y/ln, are you okay?” The Admiral immediately sees that something is wrong with the younger woman. She’s standing on shaky legs white as ghost in front of him using the desk as support. He instantly grabs her by her shoulders and leads her back into her chair.

“Do you need a doctor, Miss?” He crouches down in front the smaller woman and one more time lays a hand on one of her shoulders to get her attention, growing worried when she looks at him with unfocused eyes.

“Admiral, Sir…” She tries to stand up, she has highly respect of the man in front of her. Not only because he is her superior. When she started as the new and first IT-specialist at the base he was, despite all the warnings from the Daggers, always friendly and supportive with her. He never gave her the impression she’s not part of the team. As a civilian she had no idea how everything works, let alone how to act around the Admiral or other highly ranked Navy members. But it seems like he has a spot for her, so he was very loose with her from the start.

“Please stay seated, Miss. You look like you’re about to pass out.”

“Bad migraine, I’m sorry, Sir.” Her words already a bit slurred.

With an understanding nod he pats her shoulder. “Okay. How do we do it then? Rooster and Hangman are still in the air. But I don’t want you to wait here in your condition. Let me get someone to bring you home. I would feel better if I know you can lay down at home and take some painkillers. Is that okay, Miss y/ln?” With both her boyfriends still in the air the Admiral has only one option, he needs to asks Welsh to take the sick woman home. The guy is as useless as they come. And he can’t wait to kick him of his base already. But to take his IT-specialist home seems like a simple enough task for this scapegrace.

---

That's why she finds herself now in a Navy issued SUV on the way to their shared house. Despite the spacious driver's cab she feels cramped. The tangy smell of the man's aftershave increases the feeling nausea. Her field of vision is still dominated by colorful flashes and a blind spot on the right side. That and the hammering pain in her head which throbs with every heartbeat makes it difficult for her to concentrate on the streets. With Welsh so close to her she feels vulnerable. From the beginning the guy gave her the creeps. At his first days on the base he tried to flirt with her but not in a funny or friendly way like Jake or Bradley did. His behavior, his choice of words, his dark eyes which always seem to follow her made her scared from the start. She prays that the drive to Jake's and Bradley's house is as fast as possible over and she can stumble into their cozy home and hide herself in one of the boy's beds.

"So…how is it to live with two Naval pilots in a house? If they're as bossy as they're on base, I should probably feel sorry for you." Welsh's loud voice brings her out of her daydream. His devilish laugh at the end of his sentence makes her flinch. Why is he starting a conversation with her? She heard the Admiral told him that she has a bad migraine attack. Her heartrate picks up which only increases the painful throbbing behind her eyes.

"It's good. They're good roommates." She answers in a quiet voice in great hope that this would end the unpleasant conversation. Y/n feels the man's eyes on her after he stops at a red light.

"Hmm, good roommates… But what if, let's say you want to bring a guy home?" His voice gets a dangerous undertone and y/n feels more and more unsafe in the presence of the man beside her.

"I - I don't bring men home…" But before she can finish her sentence she feels a finger tracing down her arm, the short fingernail scraping her sensitive skin. Y/n flinches and withdraws her arm as fast as she can. A shudder is passing through her body. She can feel the bile rising in her throat.

"A beautiful woman like you doesn't bring guys home? Playing hard to get, darling?"

Y/n feels relegated right back into her past. Feeling small helpless at the hand of a sadistic man. She curls further into the seat turning her body to be closer to the passenger door, away from Welsh. The line he traced with his finger is burning on her skin. She is disgusted. Her heart is racing but she holds back the tears with all her might. She doesn't want to show more weakness by crying in the car in front of him. Fortunately he ends the forced conversation at this point, looking confident with the outcome of the intimidation of the small woman in the passenger seat. First rule: show them who is in charge, intimidate them. Then go further.

When Welsh turns into the all too familiar road and finally parks the car in the driveway of their home she hastily fumbles with her seatbelt. She can't stay one second longer in the presence of this man.

"Wow, nice house. Really cute, good neighborhood. I guess it's really cozy in there…"

When y/n stumbles out of the car she can hear his voice shouting after her. "I can help you inside, darling."

But she just hurries to the front door without looking back. She has to open the door and then she's safe. Her hands are shaking so badly and her vision problems are making it difficult for her to get the key into the lock. In her panic she doesn't notice that Welsh is already backing out of the driveway.

---

Y/n doesn't know how long she sat there, on the cold hardwood floor with her back to the front door. When she finally unlocked the door her dizziness was so bad that she only managed to close and lock the door and let herself slide down onto the floor. With her throbbing head in her hands she started to cry silently. Panic gasps tumbled out of her mouth, her heart seemed to explode in her ribcage.

On wobbly legs she finally has the strength to make her way into her bathroom to get her migraine medication and a glass of water. Clad in only an old Navy shirt of Bradley or Jake she crawls in Jake's bed, inhaling his lingering scent, eventually feeling safe.

---

The training session was greatly successful, leaving the recruits and their instructors exhausted but content. On days like this Bradley and Jake are happy that they and the Dagger Crew accept the generous offer to be permanent at Miramar, teaching the new fighter pilots of the US Navy.

"Finally finished for today, I'm so ready to go home." Bradley says as he looks at his phone.

"Yeah, let's get our girl and head home." Jake replies in a light tone patting his partner on the shoulder. He can't wait to get home with Rooster and y/n, envelope both in his arms and cuddle for the rest of the evening on their big and comfy couch. Before both reach the locker room to store away their helmets and flight suits a loud voice is interrupting their chatter.

"Hangman, Rooster. The Admiral and I have to talk to you. Nice training by the way." Maverick instructs them clearly aware of the annoyed looks he receives from both men.

---

"At ease! Take a seat" Bradley and Jake do as the Admiral tells them. Both clearly surprised why the Admiral and Maverick have to talk to them at this time of the day after their long flight training.

"First of all, I had to send Ms. y/ln home late in the morning. She was feeling unwell, suffering from a migraine. Welsh was so friendly and took her home."

Both men share a worried look, Jake nearly on the verge to storm out of the Admiral's office. Maverick's firm hand holding him in his seat.

"I don't want to hold you two here any longer. But Mr. Mitchell has important news for you." The Admiral knows y/n's past. Before she could start to work at the base he had to do a detailed background check. But with her high reputation her former employer gave her and Maverick's powers of persuasion he could overlook the fact that she is a civilian and that her ex could be a possible safety risk. When Pete told him her whole story, the reason why she has to move states that fast, his heart went out for her. For outsiders he always looks like the clinical Navy Admiral, but deep down he has a big heart and a great soft spot for his young IT-specialist. So he dearly understands the huge protectiveness his two aviators feel for her.

"I know that your contract clearly says that you two are permanent instructors for TopGun, without any long term…"

"We are not going on another suicide mission." Jake interrupts Pete immediately. In no case he or Bradley are going on another mission, gamble with their life, leaving y/n.

"Seresin, keep calm!" The Admiral barges in. Jake's posture stiffens but indicates Maverick to continue.

"The USS Harry S. Truman needs some instructors on the carrier. Phoenix and Fanboy will accompany you. Bob and Coyote are going to supervise your trainees at the base."

"How long?" Bradley looks as unamused as Jake. Both don't want to leave their girlfriend alone. Of course she is a grown woman and can handle herself but their relationship is still very new and he knows that they would constantly worry about her when they're away. With her health issues she doesn't rely on help, but both would feel better if one of them would stay back home.

"We assume that you will stay there for at least two weeks. But it will depend on how fast you can train the crew. The good news is that the carrier is currently stationed in the pacific near Hawaii and will stay nearby during the training mission." The Admiral rises to speak to the men.

"When do we have to fly out?" Jake asks while clenching his teeth.

---

The drive home was silent, a dreading silence with both men deep in thought. With heavy hearts and worried for their girlfriend who is probably still suffering from her migraine attack. They have to leave Miramar in three days. Thursday they're going to fly out to the USS Harry Truman and they have yet to tell their girlfriend, their currently sick girlfriend. How could that somewhat decent day turns out to be such a disappointment.

---

"The door is locked?!" Bradley states when he tries to open the front door of their house. Usually y/n doesn't lock the front door when she is at home, she did that a lot at the beginning of her living with Rooster and Hangman. But nowadays she feels safe enough to not lock the door when she's inside the house, in addition to that it's not possible to open their front door from the outside without a key.

Both men step into their cozy home as quiet as possible, not wanting to wake up their sick girlfriend in case she's still resting.

The brunette pilot opens y/n's bedroom door slowly and pokes his head inside the room, but her bed is empty and untouched. She has to made herself comfortable in one of their bedrooms, seeking comfort in one of their beds. That's the moment the two men hear painful coughs and retching coming out of the master bathroom.

Jake is the first to open the door to the grand bathroom which is used usually by the two men because y/n has her own en-suite bathroom. And there she is, sitting miserable on the cold tiles in front the toilet violently gagging with her whole body shaking like a leave.

"Oh baby…" Jake wastes no time and kneels immediately beside the smaller woman. But to his surprise she flinches away from him when he touches her back in a soothing manner. Her eyes fly open and there's a clear look of panic in her big eyes. She needs a moment to recognize one of her boyfriends beside her when another violent wave of nausea hits her like a train.

"It's okay y/n. I got you, don't fight it." Jake reassures her while supporting her body when she starts to throw up once again. She reaches blindly for Jake, squeezing his thigh weakly with a clammy hand. Bradley sits on her other side running a cool washcloth over her neck, catching a tear that makes its way down her pale cheeks. When there's finally nothing more in her system to throw up and also the dry heaves stop she slumps her body into Jake's.

"You done, sweetheart?" he asks in a worried tone while supporting her body to keep her in a sitting position. When he looks at her face he sees how pale she is almost ashen with cold sweat coating her forehead.

"Migraine." The small woman whispers even her own voice is hurting in her head. "M-medication." Her voice slightly slurred.

"You due for another round of your painkillers? I will get them and something for the nausea." Bradley strokes her cheek gently before he stands up to make his way to her bathroom to get the much needed painkillers and something to prevent her from throwing up more.

She curls further into Jake's warm body when he starts to massage her temples. He picks up the cool washcloth to put it back on y/n's neck but the sudden cold feeling surprises the trembling girl and her hand flies to Jake's chest fisting his shirt in an attempt ground herself.

"J-Jake." She gasps looking up at the blonde man holding her in his arms.

"I'm here, sweetcakes. You ready to get up?"

She nods her head into his chest, breathing in his scent. Despite her bad migraine attack Jake's odor doesn't make her sick, it grounds her, remind her that she's safe here, that she's home. On the contrary to the strong aftershave of Welsh. She shudders, she tries to shove the thought of his fingers touching her arm and his strong words in the back of her head.

After brushing her teeth to get the disgusting taste out of her mouth Jake takes her back to his bed. Tucking her in after Bradley gave her the medication to finally give her the release from the hammering headache she already suffers for hours.

"Can you stay with me? Please…" Y/n whispers as both her boyfriends kiss her forehead.

"Of course. We change and then we will lay down with you." Bradley caresses her cheek. He and Jake have to talk first, but he keeps that from her. They both know they have to talk to her as fast as possible but not when she is suffering from a bad migraine attack and is barely coherent. A small 'thank you' can be heard as the aviators leave the bedroom. She is the best that ever happened to them, that fact is clear.

---

"Hey, come here." Bradley opens his arms, he knows that Jake always suffers when y/n is sick, nearly as much as she does. But due to the situation that they have to fly out in the next days and leave her here alone he needs a bit more affection. Jake doesn't hesitate and gladly hugs his partner, he needs this comfort now. He would feel a lot better when he knows how long their deployment on the carrier will last, how long they have to leave y/n alone.

"I'm gonna miss her, Rooster. I'm worried to leave her."

Bradley tightens his hold he has on the blonde aviator. He is worried, too. But he doesn't know why and that scares him the most. Y/n is capable to be alone, even sick she can take care of herself, but she shouldn't. She should have them at her side, she suffered long enough alone on the hands of her ex. With Jake and Bradley at her side she should always be safe and never lonely.

"Me too, I will miss her too. We have to tell her as soon as possible. Hopefully she will feel better tomorrow."

---

The mattress dips beside her a big figure is crawling under the sheets she's huddled under. Y/n lets out a small whimper as she feels cold air spreads under the warm blanket.

"Shh, sweetheart. Go back to sleep." Jake speaks in a hushed tone as he tucks his girlfriend into his muscular chest. Her small hands wander immediately over his ribcage further up to his chest and rest directly over his heart. Felling the heartbeat of either one of her boyfriends is always calming her down and lulling her back so sleep. But she misses the other aviator dearly. "Roo-y?" She whispers into the dark room in great hope that her brunette partner is also joining them.

"I'm here, princess." She hears his deep voice behind her, a soft kiss is placed on the shell of her ear. With a content sigh she grabs one of his hands as he lays behind her, his chest pressing into her back. Finally she's in between the two man she calls her boyfriends. Before she's finally asleep again a nearly inaudible 'I love you' is coming out of her mouth. She finally said it, she loves them with all her heart. Her body goes limp, feeling safe and content to sleep off her headache.

---

"Morning." Bradley's voice still sick with sleep brings Jake out of his daydream. Both men didn't sleep that well last night. Thinking and overthinking how to tell their girlfriend that they have to fly out, teaching some morons on an aircraft carrier somewhere in the pacific ocean.

"Morning, babe. Coffee?" The blonde pilot asks as he's enveloped in a loving hug, feeling the other man's broad chest pressing into his back.

"Please, had a fucking shitty night." Bradley grunts as he ends the hug to get two mugs out of the cupboard.

Before the brunette pilot can rummage any further in of the drawers Jake grabs one of his hands.

"You heard her, yesterday before she fell asleep?" Jake asks looking deep into the warm eyes of his partner.

"Yes I did. Made my heart skip a beat. Fuck, I'm so thankful that she stumbles into our life." Even half asleep and not more than a shy and soft whisper both men heard the three most precious words out of y/n's mouth. To say the timing was awful with them going away is an understatement. But it is what it is. They have to tell her and make the best out of the next two days before their departure.

"Yes, but we have to tell her that we will leave her…"

---

Y/n wakes up slightly confused taking the heavy painkillers combined the anti-nausea medication leaves her always slightly confused and dizzy the next day. Fortunately the deadly painful headache is just a dull ache behind her eyes. She takes a look at the alarm on the nightstand and she knows that she has to hurry up she is already late for work. Peeling herself out of the warm and comfy bed leaving the content feeling of being safe and sound in Jake's bed behind she slightly stumbles as she makes her way to the door. She needs a proper shower so she has to go into her own bathroom in case she doesn't want to wash her hair with the guy's all-in-5 shower gel. She grabs the water glass from last night paddles with her bare feet to the door opening it quietly when she immediately hears Jake and Bradley talking.

"You heard her, yesterday before she fell asleep?" She can hear Jake asking.

Her hand flies to her mouth. She didn't dream it. She really said 'I love you' to them. She wanted to tell them at the right moment not when she just throw up her guts, with messy hair and confused from pain and medication.

"Yes, but we have to tell her that we will leave her…"

They will leave her. She said she loves them and they will leave her. Her hands start to tremble. She knew that this moment will come and here it is. She is certain that she has too much baggage, is too clingy and too vulnerable. And now yesterday puking her guts out like a disgusting little girl and then she telling them 'I love you' must have been the last straw. She ruined everything. The trembling in her hands increases and with a loud bang the water glass in her hand dashes to shivers on the floor just beneath her feet.

@djs8891

@darksparklesficrecs

[jamiekb]

Exploring the new Welcome Home Update

So here's my journey through the new update and the little details that it has, this will be a very long post and of course full of spoilers.

Look at the new design for the loading screen, so Christmas-y! I particularly love the antlers on Home's chimney.

Looking good Wally! And now we have new little doodles that seem to go with the holiday.

Ok so according to the admins no more bugs so wonder what will be different this time. Onto the news page then

Also I'm really digging the new background

Ok starting the FAQ now and some questions and answers are interesting. So they've been receiving more material covered in goop. They kinda adress in universe the move of the website, due to malicious material and in the code of the page.

And there is one new hidden message in the answers (I think) "The numbers are so hard to read. Sometimes I can't see them" So do we have to look for numbers now?

Took a detour through the stickers and they have new ones! There is Wally making a Home out of snow, sleeping Julie, I think Frank singing Carols to a butterfly, Poppy with a Jello thing, Eddie with a ton of presents to deliver, Howdy with some relatives, Sally as the star of a Christmas tree and Barnaby with a snowman.

Also with the "Welcome Home" banners two are a bit more desaturated now. And now that I think about it there are some stains in the main banner too

Neighborhood

Anyway unto the Neighborhood! Looks so cute although I'll be honest the clock tower is a bit weird and the trees feel a bit more intense at the edges or maybe that's just me

Eddie seems quite normal though now apparantly he has a mother, I'm confident that didn't use to be there. Is it weird that other than Wally hes the only one that didn't add anything new to his home for the season?

I think Howdy's description also changed a bit but nothing alarming. His store now seems to have signs welcoming his family for the holidays.

Checking Barnaby's description they seem to all have a bit more background info, since he apparently left his farm life to come to Home. Ok what does "Barnaby’s middle initial was often rotated in terms of what it stood for" mean???

Poppy is so cute! Is she holding cupcakes decorated like the characters or did she already do that? Ok but her new details feel very interesting: she claims to be able to fly but it's never shown and she never leaves her house to the point of being excluded from some events (like Wally's Homewarming party I guess)

Sallys is fine. She's besties with Poppy I guess and she can shine??? How do you make a puppet shine?? Were they roommates maybe?

Oh Julie got quite a backstory. Named siblings, she has paws and used to live in the forest on the outskirts of Home in a cave with her family. And she hibernates that's too cute!

Great my dear Frank still gets no background info (which is very interesting) but he goes get forced heteronormativity.

Ok and Wally is kinda similar, no background info just very dedicated to Home. And I''l see about coming back to the As above so below page since I can't seem to click it, might just be me. You can still see the goop at the doorstep though

Merchandise

Ok so first off the Merchandise page has a different background to the rest, some colorful static and took a bit to load.

oooh they even changed the layout for the phone since you could hear Wallys call, that's such a cool detail

Maybe I'll go back and see if Eddies or Sally's stories have been changed in the audio or transcipt but I'll stick to the new stuff for now. Now that i think about maybe Sally's doesn't have the bit where the transcript couldnt understand it.

Finally reached the wish book and I love it so much, this is so much work all around! My favorites are the Frank and Wally pillows, Eddie Dear Lil' Mailman's Kit, the Home Clock and specially the tree skirt! I now have to make those cute neighbors

Oh my god the record has the perfect Santa voice. And.. interesting that the ad cuts off when we get to Eddie. I'm not really surprised thought it would do something when it got to him or Frank, still suspicious.

Homewarming Story

The sound editing for all this new items is amazing!

I love the bit of the characters tripping up the narrators, this one just hasn't been able to get it right.

Hey is it me or in this one they've been a bit more insistent that Frank is a bit too literal but in a not so good way, not that much more intense but can't help but notice it. Seems a bit meaner

The return of Walliford!

Good to know Home uses he/him I guess

excuse me the fuck was that sound distortion???

and then it ends kinda abruptly, so that's that...

Where's my Eddie by the way, they didn't ask him and didn't find him while out on the town. I better hear him at some point or I will riot.

We have a code!

Ok so I was skimming the rest of the material before choosing what to listen to next and saw the cereal and craft at the back! So I guess now I have to find all the little drawings in the page and see when come from that

So I did listen to a few more songs, nice to see Eddie and Frank interacting as always, and noticed that in the transcript pages there are some entries for Mistery Audio, which are actually three of the previously hidden videos so that's interesting

Also not all the pages have four drawings some only one, so I've been trying to keep track which symbols i found where in case it matters. Still don't know what they're for just going around collecting them

Ok nvm I was doing things out of order and now that I got to media can see they are mentioned there

So after finally getting all the little things and going back to tumblr cause honestly I didnt really get what to do, I'm guessing it leads to a website, since one of the pages just has www as the code, so I'll try that I guess since I saw that there is a secret website somewhere. If it takes me too long I'll just look it up

Secret website

Nvm I'm too impatient at this point and I think i was missing a few letters so I just looked it up

Ok so that's interesting, so this person is kinda like the one behind the scenes talking to us along with whatever had infected the website before. They mention how the curator got sick (???) but is better now and that they'll try to update this website with the weird things they find

So the phone is one, like the weird glitched audio from Wally. This audio is interesting cause it plays out technically in real life but Wally speaks as if they are living out their lives...

And then moving on to the commercial they are speaking again of being compelled to know more, to see and wait. I'm sure some is curiosity but that can't be all

ohmygod this is more than 20 minutes long, the effort it must have taken Clown and team is monumental

that little animation is so cute!!!

fast forward many commercials and we have Eddie!!! And even a whole hand helping Poppy or something.

god the tobacco comercial of course they would have one

My poor Eddie boy is so anxious and depressed, why is no one talking to you bud? Like not getting him a present is a thing but not even Julie called him to play... and now is he's spiraling and even mad, that's unusual for sure. Also what's with the perspective of his videos, everything is a commercial or in the case of the secret videos it's interactions with other neighbors. This is more like the secret videos that we're seeing from someones POV, but not even that, we're observing him not looking through his eyes

Oh my poor Eddie is certainly going through it, who let them expose him to The Horrors? The horror aspect of this ARG sure has started to pick up speed, even I picked up some anxiety from that last segment

Also I did notice that Frank eventually dropped the Mr Dear for Eddie when he got more worried, almost like hes more worried than for an act that he has to put up huh?

So that was the newest Welcome home update. I can say it was everything I hoped for and more!!! The team behind it really gave it their all. From VAs for the audios to all the visual and graphic artists for the commercials its all so wonderful

[fleouriarts]

remade the height lineup for jamie and co! it's been almost exactly 6 months since i made the original one, and omar and andre didn't even exist when i made it, so i figured it needed an update. also the original was made in one night (vs this being made in a week) and you can TELL

under the cut are individual pics for each of them with some design notes and such. tumblr also likes to crunch big images like this, for full size click here and here

originally finished 9-28-2024

JAMIE: biggest change is that im actually drawing him with a long ass linsang neck. i wanted him to be small so bad before that i forgot the most important linsang trait... this is also why he has gained 2 inches of height LOL

SANTIAGO: santiago got like 25% wider and his horns are more visible. i considered making a second unclothed ref for his look during the summer (all wool shaved except for the head), but i don't draw him like that very much. maybe later

JOHNNY: no changes. johnny is a perfect animal. i just finally have a full ref of her spots (at least from the front)

NULL: i completely changed their head shape to look like an actual siamese cat, and gave them 6 nipples like an actual cat. their original shirt had just a blue scribble (my usual shorthand when i'm drawing from a ref and don't feel like drawing a shirt design) but i decided they deserve an actual shirt design now. i tried a cat skull at first and then i thought to do cartoon fish bones instead and fell in love with it

ARGYLE: argyle's face spots became more pronounced, his mane is bigger, his bigass robe has only yellow stripes now, and i changed the colors on his pants a bit. a character change that comes with this is that he is now a journalism student instead of fashion. he was originally a fashion student so him, jamie, and santiago would all have to interact (since they're all in the arts at their college). however developing argyle more made me think he would care way more about comfort than looking good when it comes to his clothes. also the son of a lawyer and a history professor going into journalism just makes sense to me

OMAR: omar wasn't on the original lineup, but when compared to my first drawing of her, i just made her fatter with a longer neck. and now i have a good ref of his spots! i've also decided they have hyperestrogenism, no clue if it's caused by an underlying syndrome like aexs or not. either way she has gynecomastia and hypogonadism because of it

ANDRE: andre straight up didn't have a color ref before now cus i mostly drew her in my sketchbook. i just forced myself to figure out his markings and give him a "default" outfit (i really liked the one i drew him in here so that's his default now). also i have decided she does not wear wigs anymore she's just a cool bald bitch

overall i think i just got better at drawing furries ^__^ a lot of it comes down to just thinking harder about their anatomy. you may notice that the new drawing has the carnivorans (jamie null argyle and andre) as plantigrade at rest now instead of digitigrade. part of this is because i went and looked at my zootopia artbook to study it and that's how they do it. another part of it is that when you look at plantigrade vs digitigrade legs (unguligrade is here too i guess):

the entirety of the paw on a digitrade animal is homologous to just the toes on a plantigrade one. do you want to stand on your toes all day? does that sound fun to you? HELL NO!!!!!! unguligrade animals stand on their toenails but they're weirdos we don't have to talk about them

anyway enough of my rambling cheers to you if you read this far. if you're an aspiring furry artist you might find it fun to learn some irl animal anatomy to help you w your drawings, like looking at skulls/full skeletons and stuff. or maybe it'll just frustrate you. i'm a biology student so this is enriching for me. have a nice day

[wiktorianala]

My oc's + characters they were based of in one way or another

I got bored of sewing, maybe gonna continue on weekend, but anyway i decided that it's time to make smthng more with Bouney 'n Handy so there's a lil drawings and if someone is interested in me yapping about them, story, 'n other stuffs then click here \/

Oki, so I'll start with at which point they were based of well, Salad and Madotsuki. Starting from Handy because this will take me less time. She was created waaay later, at moment when I wanted to start working on comic, so I had to make second character just so Bouney wouldn't be only one, well i wanted to make her an object head of some kind to match with the fact that Bouney's head was created out of rotated eye. It is not anymore but that was honestly how I created this little freak. Fine but coming back to topic I wanted to give her some kind of object, and I'm honestly shit when it come to making any decisions myself, so with my friend we just looked throught my entire sketchbook and we found drawing of Madotsuki with hand palm effect (because I was pretty much fixated over this game and bigger part of sketchbook had Yume Nikki drawings), so we just picked hand. Now, with Bouney it's longer story, just like I said, I created him way earlier, so first thing he got after Salad were simple plain clothes 'cuz I'm layzy and absolutelly didn't wanted to bother with drawing anything complicated over and over again (and I picked Salad, because once again, yes it was my fixation at that time, and I want to remind that thos are two different times btw). So at the point when I wanted to start making thos comics and when I already had character designs I had to give them personalities and story, and the story... it was pretty different from what it is now. First vershion of it was too about a empty world and all thos stuffs, this didn't change, but main difference was the fact that in earlier ver Bouney was only living creature in this world. Handy was more of some kind of imaginary friend that appeared in his head due to loneliness there. (this a bit was based out of Salad too, because, ya know, empty weird world, clearly not very sane main creature character 'n thos stuffs) Plot mostly was just like in current vershion pretty goofy 'n just some "everyday stuffs", but at some points it was getting pretty heavy and sad. AND YES I KNOW THAT IT SOUNDED MUCH MORE INTERESTING, honestly at some point even I liked it more in this way, but there were two main reasons why I changed it. First one, fact that Handy wasn't really a physical person caused some technical writing issues that maybe been not that hard to fix, but as once already I said- I'm layzy, so I didn't wanted to be bothered by them. And now second and honestly more important reason (at least for me), it was time when I was making 2nd re-write of "Fragments of Sanity" plot (rn I'm working on 3rd, and I hope last one, because I want to finally make it into comic too) and I mean first version of it was pretty, well sad (I can't really find better word for it), but on second version? Oh boy, let me tell ya this shit is even worse (and main reason for this is probably because I dunno when but Mike ended up being at least in his personality and behavior (not by plot) a bit of self insert). So I didn't really wanted both of my projects to be like that, and I wantd at least one of them to be one with wich I could more goof around, so yeah, I've changed it. Well I guess that's all I wanted to say? I dunno. I know that in 95% no one is about to read this, but anyway I feel at least better when I can yap somewhere about some certain stuffs, and hey, ain't that for what blogs even exist? For people to yap, and do stuffs they like? Damn after writing for such a long time about them I guess I have a need rn to finish this god damned 3rd chapter. So yeah, now that's all.