#I seriously remember nothing from creating this

[rear-naked-chokehold]

Don't you like your presents?

A soft continuation from this post. cw: implied spiking Usman's... generosity... is getting out of hand. But he won't hear anything against it! Dark!Usman x Reader. (Almost like a messed up Pretty Woman situation.)

The most important thing a man can do is provide for his woman. His mother taught him that.

Life was hard in Dagestan – especially when he was a child and Khabib hadn't gotten famous in the UFC yet. Usman remembers when he was a child and had to share Muay Thai gloves and headgear with his brother, Umar. It meant that they could never take classes at the same time, and it meant that his brother always fought with gear that was too small for him, all because he always demanded that the family bought the gear that fit Usman best.

"It's okay, Usman. It's better to fight with tight gear. I swear it protects me more! What? You don't believe me?"

Though his brother's kindness touched him, Usman also remembers feeling utterly humiliated. Embarrassed at his own helplessness; his inability to do anything but leech off his parent's sacrifices and his brother's early maturity. Those experiences – painful as they were – created a burning desire to be the one providing.

When Usman grew up, he was going to be fucking rich, whatever it took.

Fortunately, he was talented. He knew that. And you can make money from talent.

Though Usman's family is far from poor now, he still likes making up for lost time. His friends and other guys at the gym tease him for being a big spender with a taste for the finer things in life. A pretty boy who likes Prada and Gucci and Audi sports cars.

But Usman knows it's all in good fun – and anyway, they seem to like luxury things plenty when he comes bearing gifts.

So, why are you so uncomfortable?? You seriously don't need to be!

He strokes the sides of your arms reassuringly.

"R-Really, Usman, this is all too much... I can't accept all this."

"Nonsense! Of course you can. This is nothing to me, seriously!"

Something suddenly occurred to him.

"Is it because you don't have enough baggage allowance on your flight back home? Are you flying economy? Don't worry, I'll call my guy and we'll get you upgraded to first class."

"N-no!"

You were so cute when you argued sometimes. Usman stood a head taller than you, even when you were wearing heels. Even if you were mad, he just couldn't take you seriously – like a cute kitty batting at his chest, wanting to be let out.

He couldn't blame you though, this was a little more than his previous surprises. Ever since the two of you became friends, he made you promise to come out to the city he was fighting in so you two could 'hang out'. But Usman began feeling bad when you just had to fly to Abu Dhabi all the time, so he had the great idea that you two should take a trip to Paris, right after his next fight.

Again, just as a friends, of course.

What? Didn't you have fun when you were with him?

What you weren't expecting was a hotel room filled with gifts – teal bags from Tiffany's, bright orange boxes from Hermes, and tables filled with white roses. (Usman wanted to get red, but he didn't want to be taken the wrong way. You're not technically his woman, after all...)

Thank God you got rid of that useless boyfriend you had though. Last time Usman checked, Bellator didn't even renew that guy's contract. What a loser – geez, how did he trick you into ever dating him?

Wait, no, Usman knows how.

You're a good girl. The type that Usman can tell was a straight-A student in school, not like him. When the two of you aren't together, he knows that you're working so hard at your job that you sometimes don't even have the time to Facetime him when he's done with training. It makes him sad to see such a lovely, young woman toiling like that. If he can take the pressure off for just a few days, then every paycheck he got for knocking some poor guy out is priceless.

At first, it just started with meeting you at a fancy UAE mall during the times Usman could sneak away. If you were hungry, he'd buy you dinner (and of course, ice cream afterwards). But then you commented how you felt a bit embarrassed at the way you were dressed compared to some of the other shoppers, most of them the pampered housewives of some expat or oil mogul.

Usman's heart broke hearing you say that. He remembered when his mother would wear his old clothes when he was a teenager just because they couldn't afford anything that wasn't for the children.

So, Dior it was then!

Usman remembers the moment you came out of that dressing room. His jaw almost hit the ground. You looked like a model! No, even better! Shit, he almost wishes he paid more attention in school so he'd have the words.

When the two of you walk around now, Usman almost gets a little worried that you attract too much attention. He always wears a mask or sunglasses with his hood up so no one recognises him when he's out with you, but you just make everyone stop and stare...

"You have to hold my sleeve when we're out together, y/n. Men need to know that they can't just ogle you."

You lost track of how many presents you received from Usman. You knew men from his culture were a little more traditional when it came to being chivalrous to women, but surely Usman couldn't be the norm.

He especially seemed to love buying you heels. The higher the better.

When you slid those first pair of Louboutins on, you saw how his eyes got half-lidded and glazed over, looking up and down the length of your legs. You couldn't even see the blue of his irises anymore.

His voice got all rough and quiet.

"Mashallah..."

It sent prickles across your skin – you couldn't tell if you felt embarrassed, uncomfortable, or hot. But before you could take them off, Usman was already walking towards the till to buy them and three more pairs in different styles and colours.

You're wearing them right now as you stood in the doorway of the hotel suite in Paris. You shift uncomfortably – God, your feet are killing you. You can walk in high heels just fine but you and Usman have been walking around the city all day... And the cobblestones are rough on your ankles.

You wince, feeling the ache in your arches.

"Oh are you tired? Go, go sit down. Rest – we've been out all day."

Usman pushes you gently towards the lounge chair by the massive bed, and you're at a loss for words when you sit down. You always struggle to tell people no. You guess that's how you ended up with a guy like Kevin, and ended being his secretary, social media manager and girlfriend all rolled into one.

But if Kevin was a pull – constantly demanding more and more from you while never being happy with anything you did for him – Usman is more like a push.

It wasn't just material gifts either. Sometimes he sends you photos of cute cats he sees on the street. And voice notes that wish you good luck on the mornings you have important meetings. It's almost like he's constantly thinking of you.

It was flattering and a bit scary. But then one day, while out shopping, you saw him spend three month's of your salary on a leather purse at Bottega without even asking you. You pushed past your anxiety to protest – this was crossing a line!

"My mum is going to love this. It's her favourite colour... She's been using the same bag for years."

He smiled as the girl at the cashier took his card, like he was imagining her reaction in his mind. You realised then and there that that was just the kind of guy Usman was. Ruthless and ambitious as a fighter. Kind of arrogant. Sometimes childish. But really, really sweet on the inside. It was just the way he showed that he cared for his family and friends.

You snap out of your thoughts when you hear the loud pop of a champagne bottle as Usman catches the cork in his hand and pours you a glass.

That was one thing that surprised you. You know Muslims don't drink, so you figured that they didn't like it when people drank around them. So when Usman ordered an expensive bottle of champagne the first time you two went to a fancy restaurant, you asked if it was really okay for you to consume alcohol. You didn't mind getting orange juice instead.

"Haha, don't worry, I'm cool. I won't drink but, please, you go ahead. It's okay for you to drink, especially if it's the good stuff."

He kept refilling your glass throughout the night and you got so tipsy, you began slurring your words a bit. Usman laughed every time you apologised but he kept topping you up.

He must just not know how much alcohol is in here.

Usman was so nice that night. He let you hold onto him like a baby when you struggled to walk back to your hotel room, even though you knew that it was not okay for a woman to touch a man, especially a married one in his culture.

You blushed at the memory as you accept the flute of champagne from Usman.

I'll be sure to have just one or two glasses this time.

You could only take one long sip before you see Usman kneel down in front of you and begin taking of your shoes.

"Us-Usman! You don't need to do that, seriously!"

His grip is really strong around your ankle. It doesn't hurt but it's solid, and you know there's no way you'd be able to pull your foot away. When the shoe slides off, it reveals your pinched-red toes underneath your sheer stockings. Usman clicks his tongue softly, shaking his head as he pulls your foot into his lap.

"Your poor thing. It must be so painful."

His voice is gentle, if a little patronising.

You couldn't believe this was happening. You've seen Usman do a lot of things. You've seen him jump-scare you by yelling when you were peering over the side of tall hotel balcony. You've seen him get teary eyed when he was telling you stories about how his brother passed up the chance to go the university so he could work and provide for his education. And you've seen him headkick a man so hard he was stone-cold out for a whole minute.

But him, on his knees, massaging your feet is somehow more unbelievable than any of that combined.

Your face feels so hot that it's making you light-headed.

Are you drunk? Didn't you just have one glass? It's hard to remember all of a sudden.

What was wrong with you?

"Relax, y/n. I've got you."

Usman's voice is so deep and comforting, like it's resonating between the walls of your brain. He can be surprisingly patient, especially when you're being a bit scatter-brained. He's a great guy.

Your body feels all warm and cozy – all the tension you didn't know you were carrying just melting away as you sink deeper into your seat.

Gosh, his hands feel soooo nice, you can barely keep your eyes open. You can't remember the last time you had a massage. His fingers are strong enough to give you amazing pressure on the arches where it hurts.

You can't help but make little sounds and sighs. You hope you're not making it weird and crossing a boundary here. Oh, fuck, are you???

"Feels nice, huh?"

The way he says it is light, innocent. It's oddly reassuring – like nothing weird or bad is happening, and you're not behaving strangely at all. He's just your friend and you can trust him.

You smile at the thought, like really smile from feelings that well up deep inside. You're so lucky, so happy to be here. You relax back into your seat and let the worries just fade, just content to float for however long it's been.

"You know... You're so beautiful, y/n."

You squeak in embarrassment but hide your face with your hand.

"Noooo, I'm not." Your voice sounds all whiny and girly in your ears. Was that you?

"Yes. Yes, you are. I think you're the most beautiful woman I've ever met."

You don't even know what to say. But Usman's now moved onto your other foot, and wow, it feels even better.

You get a bit emotional. You didn't know you just felt so anxious all the time until now. Like you were always looking at yourself in third-person, judging and criticising yourself. But now, you're just here. In the moment. And there's nothing wrong with the way you are at all.

You haven't felt this confident, well, ever you think.

You look down at Usman, who's smiling back at you. His eyes are so blue – like electric, ocean blue. He has nice high cheekbones and a strong jaw. He reminds you of a puppy, if puppies could also choke people unconscious.

"Thank you, Usman. I think you're really handsome too."

You see the way he ducks his head and smiles big, and you feel brightness inside your heart, knowing you could make him feel seen the same way he's made you feel seen the last few months.

It's like the two of you are so connected right now. You feel the presence of his easy, masculine energy, and how it's made you all pliable. You run your fingers through your hair and bask in it, leaning back.

"That's it, sweet girl. Let me take care of you."

You close your eyes and just enjoy the feeling of Usman's hands rubbing your calves. You don't even notice the way he's watching you as you give yourself to him.

Fuck, you're so gorgeous like this. All soft and sweet. Your cheeks have a flush of pink to them and your nipples are so hard, Usman can see them through your bra and blouse.

His cock's so hard it aches. He can feel himself drip every time you breathe out a pornographic moan.

You don't even know what you're doing to me, do you?

He loves being able to touch you like this – watching your reaction every time he presses or rubs. The only thing he resents is the thin layer of stocking that prevents him from feeling how smooth your skin is. Usman wonders if he'd get away with sliding a hand up your thigh and undoing the clasp of your garters.

But it's too risky. You're in the perfect headspace right now, and he can't break it.

"Y/n, you know I love taking care of you, right?"

You smile and nod. Good girl.

"You know, I get so upset when you fight back every time I try to give you a little present. It makes me feel like I'm doing something bad." Usman makes sure to make his voice a little bit pathetic.

Your eyes snap open and you look at him. Fuck, it almost looks like you're about to cry. Oh, poor babygirl.

"I'm so sorry, Usman."

He shushes you. He even has the audacity to say that it's okay, he forgives you. But you have to just let him be a good friend from now on, okay? Now, can you please take off your stockings? The material is kind of irritating his hands.

Mmmm... Your skin is sinfully soft – even more amazing than Usman could ever imagine. And that glassy look in your eyes... Your parted lips and the way you're breathing... He knows that if he reaches between your legs, you'll be soaking.

Fuck, what is it about you that makes him get so carried away?

Usman grinds his teeth hard.

One day, he'll have you bent over a table with those sexy fucking heels on without your panties, dressed in lingerie that he's bought for you. He already has pages on the La Perla website bookmarked on his phone for when it's time.

He'll finally be able to fingerfuck your sweet hole until his hands cramp. Then, he'll flip you over and put your long legs over his shoulders and bounce you on his thick, hard cock until you can't even remember your own name anymore.

Usman knows that you sometimes feel guilty because you can't afford to reciprocate his generosity. Don't worry, it's alright. But in return, he just wants you to try to come as long and hard as you can on his cock, okay baby? God, you know he needs your tightness around him.

Usman can feel his loins straining at the thought.

Honestly, only you could make all this torture worth it.

As his mother always said, a man should always provide for his woman. And he's been doing a lot of providing, hasn't he?

[zillychu]

oh my GOD I've known for about a month now that Disney was getting ready to go public with the Midjourney court case and it was SO HARD. TO STAY SILENT. all I've been able to do for like 2 years is go "trust me Disney is cooking something" and now it's finally starting.

like. I cannot emphasize enough how this is seriously going to destroy unethical LLMs. this isn't just about Midjourney, it's going to affect all the shitty art theft companies. they've been working on this a long time to ensure it's airtight.

Disney is evil, but for this battle, their interests align with ours. it's gonna be a long court case but at least we're finally gonna start seeing a shift now in regards to LLMs.

1) Disney will not be able to monopolize unethical LLMs bc they'll be illegal if Disney wins. legislation will need to be written to uphold the ruling.

-----------

EDIT: adding to this bc the techbro psyops found it and are trying to convince y'all this is a bad thing.

2) this is literally just Disney saying "LLMs should be subject to copyright law like everything else". only reason it wasn't is bc we didn't have it in legal writing yet. this court case will prompt it being written.

3) this means absolutely nothing else about copyright is changing. fair use, transformative work, and IP laws stay the same. nothing will change for anyone except techbro shills. we'll finally be protected from them.

4) I can't believe I have to say this but copyright is a good thing. it can be abused (there's room to criticize about HOW it's applied), but it's the only thing protecting small artists and individuals from their labor being stolen. anyone who whines about copyright as a whole being evil is a techbro who wants to steal your money and labor.

5) please. please remember copyright is completely separate from IP law. Disney will not be able to outlaw "style theft", that's still under fair use. their argument against LLMs lies solely in the fact that LLMs use the source material directly in computing an output, and is unable to create an output without said source material. this is how it's different from human-guided machines like digital art programs--those don't require copyright work to create any output.

6) not saying there's a 0% chance of something going wrong but there's a reason artists are excited about this. we have good reason to be optimistic. the court case is airtight--it fully refutes all arguments techbros make in defence of unethical LLMs.

7) being happy about Enemy 1 killing Enemy 2 does not mean anyone suddenly loves Enemy 1. nobody is celebrating Disney. we're celebrating LLMs losing. Disney being evil doesn't mean we can't be happy about Evil 2 dying.

8) techbros keep crying it's so fucking funny

[moonchild1]

jeon jungkook fic rec list (Ⅺ)

hi everyone i am back and boy has there been some amazing fics posted while i was away it's awaken that spark in me again and this list is honestly packed, i went over like 60 fics for this one and i even added some of my ult. faves. the ones i have to mention again because they are just so amazing, trust me you will be going back for more over and over again too. you might notice some fics from ao3 and wattpad included as well they are hold a special place in my heart, they are masterpieces that need to be shared with you guys so please enjoy this new list and give all the authors mentioned all the love and respect they deserve seriously they work so hard on creating these beautiful fics and they deserve all the attention and gratitude we can offer them so please share your love through a like, comment and reblog them so they can feel the love and more people can find their masterlists and accounts because they have some really good fics there as well.

I just wanna send an honourable mention to every single writer i have added to this list without you i would not have so much happiness when i come on this app and you have filled my heart and countless others with so much joy and happiness we appreciate you more than you will ever know and you make being here 10 times better your stories help us through alot and puts smiles on our faces and we get to spend time with a community of people who love what we love and we get to interact because of your ideas and it creates such an amazing experience so thank you for everything that you do the worlds you create and the ideas you come up and for sharing it all with us i adore you so much and you are just the best so once again thank you for everything and i look forward to what so many of you have planned - kiki ♡

NO MINORS ALLOWED PLEASE DON'T INTERACT!

happy reading everyone i hope you enjoy this extra long list of my faves and please remember to be happy and keep on smiling and interact if you want i love hearing from you guys and if you want you can send me a few of your faves 🥹🖤✨

f - fluff s-smut a - angst

series

yuanfen by @azurefangirl AzureFangirll s a unrequited love slow burn brother's best friend arranged marriage dadjk widower jk (315k) ao3

⋆ Yuanfen (yuánfèn), "fateful coincidence," is a concept in Chinese and Vietnamese societies describing good and bad chances and potential relationships. Koi No Yokan (Japanese): the feeling upon first meeting someone that you will inevitably fall in love with them. You did not know what was stupider, falling head over heels for your older brother's best friend the day you saw him, or agreeing to marry him after his wife died. Either way, you're now stuck with Jungkook whom you've loved since before you hit puberty, who can't stand the sight of you. Will he ever feel the same way, or does he just see you as the replacement mother for his infant?

lines of fate by @kookiestarlight s a exes au zombie apocalypses tattooist jk

⋆ the last thing Jungkook ever imagined was an outbreak that turned the dead into the living. But even more unexpected is seeing you—an ex he’s known nothing about in the past four years—with a small child who bears a striking resemblance to himself. As Jungkook grapples with the shock and the city spirals into chaos, the two of you are thrust back together, forced to confront unresolved feelings, long-buried truths, and the horrors of the deadly virus taking over.

lost stars by @hueseok f a roommates e2l slow burn college au (33.2k)

⋆ the last person you’d expect to be there for you is your roommate, jeongguk, on the night you break up with your cheating boyfriend; because as far as you’re concerned, the both of you aren’t exactly friends, and he definitely shouldn’t be running to get you upon hearing you sob via phone call.so when he does, you begin thinking that maybe you’ve just been hard on him over the years, or perhaps he just liked pretending to be an annoying shit most of the time. either way, it becomes the beginning of an unexpected friendship finally blossoming.

a lovers kiss by @/hueseok f s a fwb i2l college au (55.6k)

⋆ a friends with benefits relationship never ends on a good note. unless, both parties are not dumb fucks who find themselves falling for each other along the way of their agreement, of course. and in yours and jeongguk’s case, you should have known better than to think the two of you would be an exception to the so-called curse of being friends with benefits with someone you already hold dear to you, since not even five months since it was agreed upon—the line between being only friends and being a little like lovers only continue to get hazier and hazier.

hell is empty by @aquagustd f s a ft.kth love triangle dadJK exJK CEO kth (164.4k)

⋆ life has a tendency to throw things your way when you least expect it, when you’re content, and the ominous presence knows exactly how to steer your existence back into the darkness.

to the stars by arckook (ao3) a zombie apocalypse (94.6k)

⋆ It was always you, and Jimin, and your best friend Jihyun. But fate, regardless of whether you believed in it or not, had other plans for you. Jimin told you once, "It's a tough road to the stars." Nowadays it was hard to believe the stars were somewhere you could reach.

moirai by norabean (ao3) f s a soulmates slow burn (95.2k)

⋆ On your 18th birthday a name appears on your wrist. The name of your soulmate. It’s a momentous day that everyone looks forward to, but you’ve always brushed aside; refusing to believe in a fickle mistress called destiny. But what happens when on the morning of your 18th birthday you wake to find the name of your mortal enemy? Jeon Jungkook.

from home by @yuzukult f s a e2l richkid jk fakedating au (89.5k)

⋆ a rich kid who gets cut off from family money meets an average post-grad girl who may be the key to getting him back on his parents’ good side.

and they were roommates by @hoseok666 f s a ft. kth e2l love triangle tsundere jk s2l (103.k+)

⋆ it all started with a rejection from your longtime crush, jeon jungkook. you decided to confess to him on your last day of high school. after a harsh rejection and a rough summer dealing with the heartbreak, you were starting anew once your freshman year of college came. you were going to be sharing an apartment with two other roommates that you don’t even know. what a surprise you’re going to be in for once you find out it’s the one and only: jeon jungkook and kim taehyung.

future hearts by @jungblue f s a ft. pjm punk jikook s2l band au f2l lost love (114.6k)

⋆ It was everything, from his tattoos, to his touches, to the way sweat rolled down his neck as he strummed into his guitar on stage; everything about him completely enthralled you. So why are you now, two and a half years later, on a train to Seoul, telling a complete stranger the recollection of how you became fated to forever have scars on all of your future hearts due to the happiness, but most of all the pain, that came along with falling in love with Jeon Jungkook.

mind games by @yerion f a tsundere jk roommates au (31.8k)

⋆ jungkook drives you to think strict criticism isn’t too bad, purely because you didn’t expect things to turn a bit steamier than intended. as the one and only female esports player, misery was at your fingertip when your skills suddenly deteriorated. however, the stoic leader of your team—jungkook, simply couldn’t sit back. he puts you back on track, yet no one told you sparks would fly; and the crazy fact that it’s inevitable

heartbeat by @xbaepsae s a ft myg unrequited love (24.9k)

⋆ “You fell in love with a boy who was in love with music, and you weren’t sure if he was capable of loving you the same way. This thought should’ve caused you to move away from him; but, if anything, it just drew you closer.“

one year, my love by @hayjeon f s a historical/royal au 100 days my prince kdrama (31k)

⋆ You forge a marriage contract with the strangely speaking man who suddenly stumbled into your town with memory loss, but little do you know that he’s actually the lost Crown Prince, and a lot can happen between a married man and woman in one year. 

the love prognosis by @awrkive f s a medical au roommates f2l (90.7k)

⋆ for as long as you can remember, you've always been a hopeless romantic. the girl who’s always dreamt of cheesy encounters with her soulmate, grand love declarations, and a cute little beach wedding to boot. but reality pretty much slaps you hard right on the face, because love, unfortunately, doesn’t come grand — it’s simple and it’s quiet, but it is quite painful, especially when the love that you’ve been seeking for all your adult life has just been right under your nose all this time.

ever a never after by @yoonia s ft. ksj enchanted au (51.8+k)

⋆ Some say fate can be a cruel thing. Yet you never knew how true it was until fate played a hand in your bad luck. Merely moments before your happily ever after, you are suddenly sent out to a weird place. A different world. You wonder if this is a test from fate to see if you are truly deserving of your happy ending, or if perhaps fate wants to show you something else. Something that fate wishes you to learn before you can finally move on to take the next step towards your happiness.

between takes by @jeonstudios f s a fluffer au porn star au (74.6k)

⋆ as a fluffer for a popular porn star, your focus is to keep him hard and performing on set. turns out he's not the only thing that's hard

Shatter With Me by @colormepurplex2 f s a surrogate au best friends husband (46.4k)

⋆ Your best friend, Jiyoon, and her husband, Jungkook, have faced years of hardship trying to start a family. In a last-ditch effort to have their dream life, they seek solace in surrogacy. Wanting to see your best friend smile, you offer to become the bright beacon at the end of the tunnel, giving them what they have always wanted. But what happens when you begin to shine your light on their darkness? Things aren’t always as they seem—happiness can be a façade, shattering under the lightest pressure.

Chasing Cars by @oddinary4bts f s a college au brother best friend forbidden love (218.5k)

⋆ when your brother goes to study on a semester abroad, your life collides with his best friend Jeon Jungkook, who's coincidentally your roommate. Will you survive the collision, or will you crumble into dust?

hold me close by @ahundredtimesover f s a brother best friend (41.8k)

⋆ When you're asked to look after your parents' house and meet them before they go on vacation, you, Jimin, and Jungkook take the trip to your hometown of Busan and relive memories of your youth. While your new relationship has you feeling like a lovesick teenager with all the affection that Jungkook shows you, you're still you - a professional trying to make it in the corporate world, and an eldest child trying not to disappoint her parents. And that turns out to be your undoing, as a little blunder causes a rift between you and Jungkook, resulting in a trip that you might as well have messed up… Not if your brother can help it, though

sugar high by @yeojaa f a idol au childhood best friends unrequited love (33.3k)

⋆ You thought you’d known real love and maybe you had - it just wasn’t with who you thought.

the law of attraction by @jexnkookie f s a lawyer jk girl of his dreams (26.9k)

⋆ Throughout his life, Jung Kook has only ever loved one girl. Despite her being out of his league and of an elite class that he wasn't born into, he fell hard, keeping his feelings a closely guarded secret. When they parted ways, and Jung Kook pursued his law career, he did so with the intent of moving on. But when she unexpectedly arrives back into his life, Jung Kook finds himself once again face to face with his own insecurities, and the girl of his dreams.

love bug by @here4kpopfics f s a established relationship (30.4k)

⋆ A collection of stories and drabbles with my comfort couple Jungkook and Love Bug as I affectionally call her. They were my first couple to write in over a decade and I hold them very close to my heart.

sh by @wwilloww f s a ot7 f2l (118k)

⋆ Six months of quarantine have kept you apart. Somehow the distance sparks something new in each of you: questions, unfinished conversations, threads once chased now left cold. So when your roommate invites you to come with him to a mysterious house in the mountains with your friends, how could you even think of saying no?

bloodlines entwined by @spideyjimin f s a s2l soulmates werewolf au royalty au (30.8+)

⋆ having a baby alone was supposed to be easy. but an accidental twist of fate pulled you into a hidden world of werewolves, and ancient bloodlines. navigating your already complicated life becomes even harder as you uncover your past; one tied to a legacy you never knew existed. and in the middle of this chaos stands jungkook, the werewolf king… and the father of your child.  

jump then fall (into you) by @writtenwhalien f s a bf2l fake dating (52k)

⋆ bringing Jungkook along as your date to your ex’s lavish cruise wedding seemed like a perfect idea at first — all of your family and close friends together, nothing can go wrong… then Jungkook’s ex shows up and all of a sudden you’re in a years long relationship with him. You don’t mind though, really, how hard can sharing a cabin and pretending to be deeply in love with your best friend really be?

not in that way by @girlygguk f s a ft. myg unrequited love bf2l (30k)

⋆ in which you're hopelessly in love with your best friend, min yoongi. meanwhile, your other best friend, jeon jungkook, is hopelessly in love with you.

live through this by @starshapedkookie f s a band au exes to frenemies to lovers (46.5k)

⋆ A record deal. The one thing Violet needed to become the next big rockstars. As the front-woman to the band, life couldn’t have been any easier for you. That is until a devastating life event changes everything for you, leaving you heartbroken and in a downward spiral you can’t get out of. With your biggest competitor, Whailen 52 on your heels, your bandmates worried about the future, and your ex Jeon Jungkook being your only solace; you weren’t sure if you were going to live through this to see your dreams come to fruition.

a story that we paint by @thedefinitionofbts f a ft.kth college au scifi au (25k)

⋆ in which the lines between virtual and reality are blurred.

crimson park by heartbeatan f s a e2l crime au(159.6k)

angel in the darkness by @icyhobi s a mafia au prostitution au

⋆ after a patient urgently pleads you to go and help a friend of his, you naively agree to it. little did you know, that you would get more than what you agreed to, when he leads you to a brothel, to help a dangerous prostitute named jeon jungkook.

one night stand by @buryhny f s a ceo au e2l (382k)

⋆ as if the unexpected twist of a one-night stand turning out to be your CEO boss wasn't surreal enough, the situation takes a more challenging turn when both of you discover that you're expecting his child.

the alpha omega series by @borathae f s a childhood best friends to enemies to lovers werewolf au (40.8k)

⋆ Jungkook is the son of the pack Alpha and therefore heir of the titel. You are an omega and utterly out of his league. This is the story of how, against all odds, you and he became true mates.

4-7-8 by @jiminrings a marriage au (73k+)

⋆ you’re secure when it comes to loving jungkook, knowing that your husband loves you beyond words. what you aren’t so secure about is his first love — someone who isn’t you. alternatively, jungkook’s married to you, but he still celebrates his anniversary with his ex out of sentimentality.

netflix & chill by @1kook f s blindate collge au (113.7+)

 ⋆ If you planned things right, you could rain down your raging displeasure on Jeon Jungkook right after the meal but before this proposed ‘Netflix and chilling,’ maybe dramatically throw your glass of wine at him, before storming out of his place and reporting him to the authorities (Namjoon) for his douchebag personality.

the bad blind date by ravsisrekt f s a idol au f2l (wattpad)

⋆ Being set up on a date is hard as it is. But being set up on a date where the boy you're with loves your best friend is even harder-and trust me, being bubbly, cute, and incredibly hilarious doesn't work on him either…but on the other members it certainly does.

sns by narcotichobi f s a idol au s2l (wattpad)

⋆ Jae is a twenty-one year old Korean-American university student whose life is just ordinary. Struggling through the confines of cultural differences between her lifestyle and ethnicity, Jae finds herself through social media outlets and the integration of k-pop into her American life. Jungkook is a twenty year old singer, dancer and producer of the Korean-Pop idol group, BTS (방탄소년단). He works over twelve hours a day and has almost every second of his life circulating around social media. Jungkook, with newly found dating privileges, is slow to trust another person with his personal life and thoughts. Follow Jae and Jungkook through a love-story heavily motivated by social media and press

40 weeks by magicalmochii f s a teeange pregnancy f2l (wattpad)

⋆ They didn't want to be virgins when they graduated. Two friends agree to let go of their innocence together, no strings attached. Life had other plans.

unconditionally by magicalmochii f s a parents au (wattpad) sequel to 40 weeks

⋆ They survived high school and overcame the obstacles that tried to break them apart. Together they adapt to college life and work, all while caring for their new baby. Now, two friends turned lovers prepare for their wedding. Life had other plans. The continuation of 40 Weeks. Bring tissues.

blood ink by pocketbangtan f s a gang au tattoo artist jk (wattpad)

⋆ "That's my tattoo, Y/N, on your body. You know exactly what that means."

one shot

wait for your love by @/spideyjimin f s a exes2lovers parents (17.3k)

⋆ sixteen years ago, your life was turned upside down when you surrendered to the temptation — none other than jungkook, the star basketball player on your school’s team. today, after all that time, you reunite under tragic circumstances; a car crash where he saves your life.

Inkling by @gguksgalaxy s a f2l tattoo artist jk (17.7k)

⋆Jungkook is your brother’s boyfriend’s co-worker, they own a tattoo and piercing parlour. In other words, he’s tall, gorgeous, has his passion literally etched into his skin, looks incredibly good in a man-bun, and is semi-unattainable for you. Why? Well…you’re not entirely sure but him ditching right after a very heated make-out session sure isn’t a good sign. His extremely poor mood the next week sure isn’t either, but the only way to fix it is to face the beast head-on. Right?

in this paradise by @ressjeon f s a s2l survivor au (16.3k)

⋆ in an attempt to escape what’s been planned for him, Jungkook hopped on a ship only to face a tragedy that he didn’t expect and then there’s you who somehow couldn’t believe to find company in this isolated land. was this fate or was this just a temporary chance of bliss as a challenge for you both?

sleepover by @personasintro f s best friends brother (10.4k)

⋆ Jungkook is your best friend’s little brother who invites you to have a sleepover at his place. Nothing can happen, right?

bottle up old love by @wintaerbaer f s a exes to lovers (4.6k)

⋆ Jungkook may have broken up with you a year ago, but that's not going to stop him from coming to your rescue when he sees you being cornered by a creep.

the devil’s change up by @/jungblue f s a coach au (41.3k)

⋆ Majoring in athletic training means you have mandatory observation hours to perform with every single sports team at your school throughout the year, and so far it’s been going pretty great. However, when regrets from your past cause your rotation with the baseball team to become a little rocky, there’s one star pitcher who says that he can make it all better. 

entertainer by @taegularities f s a s2l (32.4k)

⋆ Growing singer Jeon Jungkook is as charismatic as he is self-absored – that is, until he meets you. Caught in a web of secrets, he finds a riddle in you he urges to solve; even ready to turn the spotlight towards you until nothing remains… but regret.

habits of a clandestine nature by @alphabetboyluvr s a college au rich jk e2l (16k)

explorer by @/1kook f s alien au s2f2l (17.8k)

⋆ Jungkook does not want to impress the frankly tyrannical ways of his planet on you. He just wants to stay here and keep your couch warm for you, hold your hair back when you wash your face in the morning. 

million dollar darling by @kooktrash f s a e2f2l crazy rixh asians inspired (19.7k)

⋆ jeon jungkook is well aware of how privileged he is to have been born into the life he was given. it was glamorous and influential yet close-knit and suffocating, something he thought he wanted to escape from. a trip back home to the circle of wealth and snottiness for his best friend’s million dollar wedding has reminded him of all the reasons why he wanted to leave in the first place… and all the reasons he should stay — the main one being you, the spoiled rich girl he knew was utterly perfect for him.

little surfer girl by @ppersonna f s a summer love suferjk (9.8k)

⋆ every summer you watched jeon jungkook turn into a perfect, professional surfer. every summer, you wanted him more. this summer, you were determined to make him yours.

the whole of your heart by @lcksndkys f s a husband au band au (8k)

⋆ Save a drum, bang a drummer.

sketch by @moonscriptsx f s soulmate au artist jk (9.6k)

⋆ After sixteen years of dreaming about the same unknown beautiful girl, Jungkook finally gets to put a name to the face — and she's so much more than what he's dreamt of

strings attached (to my heart) by @jungkoode f s spiderkook college au (11.8k)

⋆ You were a journalist at Yonsei University when you started noticing the strange coincidences between your favorite bumbling freshman and Seoul's newest superhero. The way Spider-Man's voice cracks on 'noona' exactly like Jungkook's does. The way they both bring you the same snacks, have the same nervous energy, the same tendency to ramble when flustered. You tell yourself it's just a coincidence, because the alternative means admitting something you're absolutely not ready to deal with.

it was always you by @/hueseok f s a childhood best friends to lovers (13.2k)

⋆ for as long as you remember, you’ve always had the fattest crush on your childhood friend, jeon jungkook. it never blossomed into something more though, because that’s what happens when life naturally takes it course—you grow up, you move on, and you pretend that those feelings never existed in order to maintain the good friendship that remained between the two of you over the years.so when he visits you after work one day, asking you to marry him, you do everything you can to refuse, because the reason he’s asking you isn’t due to the fact that he finally realized that he loved you after all this time, but because he thinks he’s doing you a big favor.or at least, that’s what you think.

mio angelo by @/hueseok f s a mafia au established relationship (33.3k)

⋆ it’s no secret to the whole nation how powerful the jeon family was. the efforts of the highly respected don jungsoo was the reason why the name of their clan continues to be a name that people thought greatly of and sometimes even feared. despite your father working alongside with the don, you never truly understood what the family possessed to earn them such acclaim; that is until you got closer to one of his grandsons, jeon jeongguk, that you caught a glimpse of how much power they truly seized as you see it first hand and become a part of it yourself. inspired by the godfather and vincenzo

ultimatum by @parkmuse f s spiderkook (10.3k)

⋆ Your pervy, idiotic boyfriend just so happens to also be your friendly neighborhood Spider-man (in bed).

melomaniac by @jungkxook f s a band au f2l (13k)

⋆ you’re wholeheartedly, madly in love with jungkook and yet you shouldn’t be because he’s supposed to be your best friend and nothing more. worst part of it all is that you know he’s in love with you too.

Navigating Tides by @jjungkookislife f s a exes2lovers (18.9k)

⋆ A cruise is the last place you expect to see your ex-boyfriend, Jeon Jungkook. You broke up six months ago, and your best friends Jimin and Yoongi assured you your ex wouldn't even remember this cruise that you booked a year in advance. However, on your first night on board, you discover your ex isn't only on the cruise ship, but there are no rooms available for him to stay in other than yours.

will it fit? by @jeonsweetpea f s idiots2lovers roommate au (6.7K)

⋆ So what if your roommate caught you masturbating? At least he forgot about it the next day. But he can’t exactly forget the big dildo you left in your shared bathroom…

pull me down by @starryeyedkoo f a badboy gang college au (22.9k)

⋆ “Do you regret it?” “What?” “Falling in love with me? It feels like I only weigh you down.” “I’ll let you pull me down to the depths of hell if that’s what it means to love you.”

espresso by @joonberriess f s a boxer jk idol oc (14.6k)

⋆ a rowdy boxer and the pretty it-girl he bagged by being him. jungkook’s doing anything to prove he’s serious, even if it means making a fool outta himself.

changes in between by @/taegularities f s a roommates s2f2l (24.7k)

⋆ Becoming the roommate of Jeon Jungkook is the biggest change you’ve ever gotten thrown into - but little do you know that the addition of another man will bring even further turbulence into your (love) life.

not my fault by @/taegularities f s college au classmates 2 lovers (12.6k)

⋆ After sparking a sinful conversation on a dating app, you vow to yourself that you won’t give in to more the notorious college fuckboy Jeon Jungkook might have to offer. That is, until he rings your doorbell just one night later – and it’s truly not your fault that he’s so damn hard to resist.

the secret beneath our stars by @subvk s a college au f2l (13.1k)

⋆ Falling in love with Jeon Jungkook was everything you’ve ever dreamed of and more, but maybe it was exactly that: a dream so blissful and comforting that it was too good to be true, something that could all disappear when the night changes to day, and your eyes open again. Or, making a marriage pact with your best friend was supposed to instill a sense of hope for you, so why does this hurt you more than it should?

mature by @/jiminrings f a pining f2l (8k)

⋆ alternatively, crushing on jungkook who's in your friend group is, has, and will never be a good idea.

movie goers by @mi55delulu f s a e2f2l (16.4k)

⋆ starting off on the wrong foot with your new neighbor was not on the top of your bucket list, yet you’ve made an enemy of jeon jungkook in less than 24 hours. unlucky for you, he’s not backing down either.

hopless hearts by @cupofteaguk f idol au s2l (17k)

⋆ you never understood the gravity of your position as an intern working Kcon until you fall for one of your favorite idols, Jeon Jungkook—quite literally too.

dissonance by @/yuzukult f s a rockstar jk student oc (19.4k)

⋆ something that first seems out of reach becomes a reality for him. screaming adoring fans, billboards with him and his band plastered on it, and touring across the globe with venues sold out. he has everything… but all he’s missing is you.

this is how we break by @ahundredtimesover f s a exes au (20.6k)

⋆ There are things you prepared for coming back home and that includes seeing your ex-boyfriend, but helping him design his apartment isn’t one of them. From meetings over coffee and lunches with your friends, you both learn more about the time in-between, and what you find out leave you heartbroken, wondering if there’s enough of you left to try to get back what you’d lost.

↬looking for other jjk fics or the other members check out my library

coming soon....

[lowkeyerror]

Key to Your Flat

Wanda Maximoff x Reader

Word count: 4.9k

Notes: Fluff, a bit of angst, pining, lots of acts of service, friends to lovers, au no powers

Summary: Wanda ends her long term relationship with Jarvis after realizing she was a lesbian. You've been her best friend since college, it's only right for you to support her in any way you can.

An: So this was supposed to be a cute little 1-2k fic loosely based on the Doja Cat snippet that says "Does a key to your flat mean girlfriend?" But it has turned into something else lol.

Masterlist | Masterlist 2

From the first day that you met her, you knew that Wanda would be one of the most successful people that you had ever encountered. There was no one more determined to make something of themselves than her. It was more than hard work; it was the way she sacrificed for the things that she wanted to accomplish in life.

You admired her.

How could you not, especially with the lack of direction you had in your own life? When you became her roommate in your sophomore year in college, you were already on your 3rd major. From engineering, to English, to culinary arts; you were all over the place. Yet you didn’t care much about it, figuring things would work out somehow.

You believed that the universe would grant you whatever fate you deserved. Until Wanda told you that was such a ridiculous notion. Who would wait for a handout from the universe when they could simply get what they wanted themselves?

She was a good influence on you. You started taking school and your future a little more seriously after that. You put a lot more stock into your culinary dreams, and they paid off. There was a beaming fulfillment in your chest when you opened your own restaurant. Something that probably wouldn’t have happened if you hadn’t met Wanda.

While you can’t necessarily recall what Wanda does off of the top of your head. You know she’s got some long fancy title at some big industry company. She had taken an internship in college and because of how completely undeniable the woman was, she shot up in the ranks of the company within a 10-year period.

You were both busy people, but you never loss touch as you climbed your respective ladders of success. It was second nature for you to keep in contact with Wanda. It’s not something you thought about as much as something that you did.

Other aspects of your life often slipped through your fingers. You weren’t proud to say you’d forgotten a birthday or two or missed family plans because of work. Even your dating life suffered immensely because of your hectic lifestyle.

You never understood just how Wanda could manage to create enough balance in her life to find someone like Jarvis. He was a good man, clean cut. A little more uptight than you’d thought Wanda would go for, but a charmer, nonetheless.

You remember being skeptical when you first met him. You were the first person that he’d met from Wanda’s life. It was an accident when you ran into him on the way out of Wanda’s flat. He was about to knock when you were exiting. The red head was a little embarrassed to explain as you stared at the tall blonde man. You looked between the two before you shook his hand and sent him a decent enough smile.

She had chased after you when you left, trying to explain herself, but there was nothing to explain. You congratulated her, said you were happy she found someone. She thought you’d be upset with her, but you weren’t. How could you be upset when she was happy?

You had assumed that they had a perfect relationship. That’s how it seemed when you saw them interact with each other. His hand on her waist, her eyes shining into his. They’d seem to compliment each other like the ocean compliments the beach.

Which is why you were confused when Wanda called you in the middle of your shift at work. She hardly ever called, finding texting much more reliable. However, you picked up the phone on the first ring.

“Hey, I know you’re probably working right now but is there any way you can pick me up.”

It sounded like she had been crying.

You were taking your apron off as you spoke into the phone, “Always, just send me your location and I’ll be on my way.”

You hear the relieved sigh she lets out, “Thank you.”

You informed your staff of your departure and went to your car.  Wanda sent her location, and you put it into your GPS, before driving off. She was closer than you had expected so getting to her was easy.

She was at a park in the middle of the city. The day was cloudy, and the sun was preparing to set. It was a very grey day to be outdoors.

Once you were out of your car you scanned around for your friend. You found her almost instantly. She was sitting on a bench, her head in her hands.

You’d seen her stressed before, but this felt bigger than that. Her voice on the phone made that very evident to you.

You approached her cautiously and when you got close enough you called her name, “Wanda.”

Her head shot up when she heard you. She was off the bench and in your arms before you had time to react. Her arms were tightly wound around you. It caught you off guard and all you could do was stare down at her for a moment.

Soon you were holding her back just as tight. Your hand cradled the back of her hair, finger tenderly rubbing her scalp.

“What happened?” Your voice is soft when you ask, not trying to provoke her any more than she already is.

It takes her a minute to pull away enough to answer you, but eventually she does, “Jarvis, he proposed.”

Your eyes widen, “These don’t look like happy tears.”

“I was trying to break up with him,” she lets out a deep sigh. “I called him to talk in person, and then I tell him that I think we should break up. He gets on one knee and starts talking, and I- I just…”

“Oh Wands,” you pull her back into your embrace.

You readjust so that you have one arm over her shoulder. She doesn’t protest as you lead her to your car. She climbs in the passenger seat no questions asked as you pull off.

When you arrived at your destination she finally speaks up, “What’re we doing here?”

You’re in and out of the Chinese food spot with a hefty bag of boxes in tow. When you re-enter the car with the food Wanda sends you a small smile.

“Getting takeout,” you answered quickly getting out of the car. “You sit tight.”

“Did you-”

“Of course, I got our favorite and I asked for extra sweet and sour too. I was going to drive to yours, maybe we could eat and indulge in some sitcoms or talk, whatever you want. How does that sound?”

Your eyes raked over her features. She gave you a few small nods, “Sounds better than having an existential breakdown at the park.”

“Well, I guess it’s settled then,” you chuckled a little.

You drove to her house, glancing over at her every few minutes. Her head rested on the window and her eyes were closed, but you knew she wasn’t sleeping. Wanda often closed her eyes when she was trying to ground herself. It was something you had picked up on back in college. You never knew where she went in her head, but it always seemed to help her refocus.

When you got to her flat. You handled the food and the tv, shooing Wanda away to put on some more comfortable clothes. When she came back in her sweatpants and robe the two of you ate as you watched I Dream of Jeannie.

It took about 2 episodes before she said anything to you.

“You’re not going to ask why I wanted to break up with him?”

You leaned back into the couch, “I’m curious, but it didn’t really seem like something I should be asking right now.”

She searched your eyes for something. If you had to guess, you say for security. She needed to know that start she said next was ok to tell you. In truth there was nothing she could say that would deter you from being there for her.

“I think I like women,” she said as she looked into her lap. There were more tears brewing behind her eyes, “Only women.”

There was no hesitation as you moved closer to her. Your thigh brushing against hers, prompting her to meet your gaze.

“That’s not a bad thing Wanda.”

She shakes her head, “It is especially when you have a long-term boyfriend who loves you with everything that he has. You keep wondering when you’re going to love him the way he loves you. When will you stop hating the way he touches you? When will you be able to look at him, the way he looks at you. By the time you realize it can’t be him, it will never be a him… it’s too late. He shows you a ring while you’re trying to break up with him.”

You grab her hand, “You need to be kinder to yourself. This isn’t something you chose to do Wanda. It’s not like you knew the whole time. It sounds like you’re just coming to terms with your sexuality. You did the right thing by breaking up with him.”

“But-"

She ran her free hand through her hair, “Did you think we were a good couple? Jarvis and I.”

“Let me finish. If I’m being honest, getting on one knee and proposing to someone after they tried to break up with you sounds like a manipulation tactic.”

You thought about the question briefly, “I think it looked like you were the perfect couple, but sometimes I didn’t understand it. You’re both so different, not that it was a bad thing. I just… I’ve seen you soar to unimaginable heights. I’ve seen your ambitions become your reality. I just didn’t see that in him. You’re always striving to be the best, to improve. I always thought you’d want someone to do the same with you or someone who was okay with you doing that. It just seemed like all of that went over his head.”

“He was a very traditional man. He always talked about settling down in the future, with firm roots, and kids. He talked about me retiring and letting him take care of me. It was just- not what I wanted.”

“And that’s ok, people break up all the time Wanda. It’s a normal part of life. Yes, it sucks, but it's just a breakup. Think of it as one step closer to finding your person.”

She nods slightly, “When did you get so good at this?”

You smile at her, “I’m not good at this. I’m just good with you. That's what nearly a decade of friendship does to someone.”

She didn’t say anything else. Instead, she rested her head on your shoulder and turned her attention back to the tv. You wrapped your arm around her shoulder, pulling her firmly into you.

Wanda would get through this, just like she got through everything else. You’d make sure of it, because she'd do the same for you.

In the coming months, you found yourself carving out more time for Wanda. The busy nature of your schedule died down significantly when you started to entrust the general manager of your restaurant with some more responsibility. It made your workload lighter while allowing your GM to get some more experience.

You used the new free time to support her the best way you could. Sometimes that meant bringing her lunch when she was working. Other times it was coming over after work to make sure the woman wasn’t neglecting her home. You’d go over and check if she had groceries or that she wasn’t letting the flat get too dirty.  She was the kind of woman that threw herself into work when she was trying to avoid something.

You’d even gone as far as helping her set up a dating profile when she was ready to put herself back out there.

“How do you do it?”

“Do what?”

You were once again in her flat. She stood in the kitchen, while you sat on a chair stationed at the island in the middle of the same room.

“Date women,” she was asking sincerely, but you couldn’t stop yourself from laughing.

“Well, I don’t really date, but it’s the same as any date. You’re trying to present your best self, get a good foot forward, but while maintaining an authenticity. It’s not like a job interview where only one person is doing the hiring; you both have a say in how it turns out.”

Wanda narrows her eyes, “Why don’t you date?”

You shrug, “Too busy running a very successful restaurant.”

“You’re not as busy as you used to be. Maybe you should set up a profile for yourself. I’m sure any girl would be lucky to have you.”

You shook your head, “Hard pass, but I appreciate the effort.”

“Come on, Y/nn. I know accomplishments can feel empty when you don’t have anyone to share them with,” she tried to persuade you.

“Well good thing I can share it with you then,” you countered.

She let out an irritated sigh, “You know that’s not what I meant.”

You smirked, “Why do you want me to sign up so badly anyway? You think we’re going to match?”

You were only joking, yet you can’t help but notice the slight color on your friend’s cheeks.

She scoffed like you expected her to, “Grow up.”

For a moment it felt like you were back in your college dorm. The playful and flirty banter was always present between the two of you. It was easy for you to flirt with her, knowing you never really had a chance. However, now that there was even the slightest of possibility that this could escalate, it felt completely different.

“It’s alright Wanda, nothing to be ashamed of. I’m hot, successful, hardworking, and financially responsible. Hard to ignore the total package.”

She rolled her eyes, “I remember when Ms. ‘Total Package’ couldn’t even finish her college assignments without my help.”

You chuckle when you catch her eyes, “You’ve got me there. If it wasn’t for you, I have no idea where’d I be.”

“Probably still in college on your 95th major change,” she laughed at her own joke.

It was your turn to roll your eyes, “Very funny.”

 With a smile plastered on her face she strolled over to sit next to you. She spun on the barstool before grabbing your arms and looking into your eyes, “I have something for you actually.”

“What is it?”

She reached into her pocket and sat a key down on the island. You looked at her, then the key, with slight confusion.

“A key?”

Wanda nodded softly, “You’re basically here all the time and I’m getting tired of opening the door for you.”

“I’m using this key to come over and cook in this beautiful kitchen, you hardly use.”

“Hey, I cook,” she defended.

You laughed, “I said hardly, didn’t I?”

When you got home that night, you felt a new weight on your shoulders. Your hand slipped into your pocket to pull out the key. You held it flat in your palm. The small piece of metal was cool against your skin. You stared at it for a long while.

It was just a key. There wasn't anything crazy about it. Your friend gave you a key to her house. Friends do that with each other. Your heart shouldn’t have been fluttering the way it was over such a simple gesture.

You closed your hand around the key trying to ground yourself. Your eyes shut, but as soon as they did her smile etched its way into your sight.

“Shit.”

It was like college all over again. You thought you had gotten over your crush on Wanda many years ago. She was straight, it was never going to happen. That was something you could deal with, something you could work through. However now, that wasn’t the case anymore. Wanda liked women, technically you had a chance.

You shouldn't be thinking like that. She needs you now, to be her friend. You were doing so well. Taking care of her had become an unconscious pattern as easy as breathing. You never thought about it too hard when she needed you. It’s like the moment she put the key in your hand, your mind finally started thinking.

Subconsciously you’d always known it. It’s why you didn't date. It was unfair to be with someone who you could never prioritize over Wanda. She was one of the few people in your life that you’d drop everything for.

Sure, you were a busy woman, but you’d never be too busy for her. Her distress over Jarvis literally made you change the way you worked, just to make sure you were there when she needed you.

“Why would I make her a dating profile?” You asked yourself as you face-planted on to your mattress.

Just as you expected Wanda’s profile was gaining some traction. There were a lot of women interested in someone like her. Soon she was going on more dates than you had been on in years. Most of them weren’t serious, she often said she wouldn’t be seeing them again.

You made a day of finding the freshest ingredients. You drove out to find markets that had authentic food from her home country. There wasn’t a lot locally, but you didn’t mind the hunt.

While you were sad that she wasn’t finding anyone suitable you were also happy for the same reason. You thought you’d attempt to cheer her up after so many bad dates by cooking one of her favorite dishes.

Once you had everything you needed you made your way over to Wanda’s. It was a hassle carrying everything up, but you managed with a little effort.

While you were still conflicted about having a key to her flat, you used it plenty of times. So just like you had done previously you let yourself into Wanda’s home.

“Oh, fuck sorry,” you said as you immediately saw Wanda straddling the lap of an older ( admittedly super attractive) woman on her living room couch.

Wanda looked like a deer in headlights. You were trying to comprehend if you were more mortified or heartbroken. No one spoke for a long while until the older woman cleared her throat.

“Right, uh I’ll just come back tomorrow or something. Enjoy your night, Wanda.”

With the groceries still in your hands, you turned around and closed the door. You only made it down a few steps before you heard someone calling after you.

“Y/n, wait!”

You closed your eyes and took in a deep breath trying to mask your feelings before you turned around.

“This stuff is a little heavy Wanda; I want to get it back to the car before the bags break.”

She took a few bags from your hands, “Let me help you.”

“You don’t have to; you looked pretty busy in there. Here I was, bringing stuff to cook for you in light of all your failed dates, but it seems like you’re not doing nearly as bad as I thought,” you tried to joke with her.

“Agatha is definitely the best of the dates I've had so far.”

You had to keep yourself from wincing, “Glad to hear it.”

Wanda helped you load the stuff back into the car.

“I’m really sorry about this. If I would’ve known you were coming-"

You shook your head, “It’s fine Wanda, go back to making out with a hot older woman. They don't like to wait for too long. I’ll just text you next time instead of just barging in.”

“I gave you a key because you’re always welcome.”

You unhooked the key from your key ring and hand it back to her, “I know that, but maybe it’s best if you let me in.”

“Y/n,” she looked at you with confusion.

You smiled through the pain, “If you’re going to have women over, it’s not a good look for another woman to be coming in and out of your house whenever. We’re not related and we’re not roommates. There’s not really a reason for me to have access to you like that.”

“I don’t understand,” she looked between you and the key that was now in her hand.

“Usually, a key to your flat would mean I’m your girlfriend. Me coming over to cook for you as another woman who likes women is bad for your stock. It just doesn't feel like something that's easily explained. I would have a bunch of questions if I was in Agatha’s position, especially since you haven't gone back yet,” you got into your car.

There was a conflicted look on her face, “You’ll stop by tomorrow?”

“I’ve got work, but I'll try to stop by after,” you told her that even though you knew you wouldn't be coming back tomorrow.

“I’ll see later then?” She was searching for something as she surveyed your features.

With what little control you had left, you tried to give her what she was looking for, “Definitely. Now forget about this and go back to your date.”

She looked like she wanted to say more, but with a small glance back at her flat, she walked away. You drove home.

The groceries felt eternally heavier when you were bringing them into your house. You wondered how carrying them upstairs to Wanda’s was even possible.

You hurriedly put the food away, showered, and then got in the bed. When your head hit the pillow, you let out a deep sigh. Your jaw started to tremble on its own.

You let out a bitter laugh as the tears fell down your face. You didn’t bother to wipe them away.  It felt like a part of you was ripped out of your chest.

This was bound to happen eventually. Wanda would move on from Jarvis and your silly fantasy would be crushed. You felt silly crying over a woman that was never yours.

Yet another part of you was screaming at you for feeling silly. You were doing a lot for Wanda. Even if it was all just friendly, sometimes it felt like more. All the dinners, all the cuddling on the couch, all the late-night talks. She was your better half, but she wasn’t your girl. She’d never be your girl.

It was something you had to accept. You didn’t go to work the next day. You rotted in your bed, not having the energy to get up. Scrolling on your phone was the only thing you wanted to do.

Wanda had texted you a few times, but you ignored the messages. Even the thought of her just made your entire chest burn.

You finally got out of bed when you had to pee. You took the opportunity to brush your teeth as well. On the way back to the bed your doorbell started to ring. Not just once either. Whoever was at the door pressed the button over and over again. It was impossible to ignore.

So, with your bed head, red eyes, and mismatched pajamas you yanked the front door open, “Look, I don’t know what you want but could you just go away and try again tomorrow or something.”

“Tomorrow’s not going to work for me.”

Your head shot up and you felt face heat. Wanda was standing at your front door with her arms crossed over her chest with an eyebrow raised.

“What’re you doing here?”

Your voice had a softness to it that you reserved for the red head in front of you.

She didn’t answer your question. Instead, she let herself into your home. You closed the door behind her. You followed her to your living room. She sat on your couch while you took a seat on a chair diagonal to it.

“I thought you had work today,” she says.

“I decided not to go.”

“I’ve been texting you.”

You shrugged, “Haven’t been on my phone, sorry.”

Wanda stared at you, “I went to your restaurant looking for you.”

You were looking into your lap, “I’m sorry Wanda.”

She got up from the couch to come completely into your line of sight. She kneeled down in front of you, her hands resting on your knees.

“What’s going on with you, Y/nn?”

The concern in her voice broke you out of your trance. You tried your hardest to feign that you were alright.

“I’m fine. Since you’re here why don't you let me cook something for us?”

“This is for paprikash,” Wanda watched as you began to prepare.

You stood from the chair quickly pushing down the rest of your emotions. She watched as you walked over to the kitchen pulling out some of the ingredients you had bought the day before.

You nod, “Yeah, I got stuff for chicken paprikash, alivenci, and cholent too. The plan was to cook the paprikash and then the alivenci for dessert. I was going to set up the cholent for you before I left so you could have it fresh the next day because it’s got to cook for like 17 hours.”

“You got all of this for me?”

You answered her while chopping up the vegetables, “It was nothing.”

“It’s not nothing. You’re using Hungarian bell peppers, where did you even get those?”

You smiled a bit, “I do own a restaurant, Wanda. If there’s anything I’m an expert in, it’s food. I wanted it to be authentic as possible.”

As you began cooking you felt the weight of the situation lift off of your shoulders. Cooking had always been a stress reliever for you, and it wasn’t any different now. You could feel Wanda’s eyes on you, but you never looked away from the meal.

Only when the chicken was simmering in the pot did she attempt to grab your attention.

“After you came by yesterday, I asked Agatha to leave,” Wanda broke the silence.

You finally look at her, “Why would you do something like that?”

She simply placed a key on the counter, “I couldn't stop thinking about you giving me this key back.”

“Wanda,” you tried to stop her, but she cut you off.

“No, I need you to listen. When you put this key in my hand, it felt like you had handed me a live grenade. I didn’t understand why. It wasn’t until I went back inside, and Agatha asked me how we knew each other that it clicked. You’re my everything.”

“What are you saying?”

She hesitated, “I’m saying I’ve already found my person.”

“Wanda, you’re my best friend.”

She invaded your personal space, grabbing you gently by the wrist, “And you’re mine, but it’s more than that isn’t it? You’re the person I can rely on for anything at any time. You’re the woman that left her restaurant to put me back together when my ex left. You listened to me, you held me, you cooked for me, made sure I had groceries, and that my house was clean. Friends don't do as much as you've done for me.”

You slowly lifted your gaze to meet her’s, “I just know you appreciate acts of service.”

“Y/n if you don’t want this I’ll leave and we can pretend it never happened; but if you do want this, want me, I’m right here laying it all out for you.”

You drop your gaze again, “I cried myself to sleep last night. I thought I'd lost my chance. When I saw you on top of Agatha, something broke inside of me Wanda.  Back in college I had a crush on, but I thought you were straight, so it was easy to keep it down. When you came out to me, it was like I was at square one all over again.”

Wanda shook her head, “It’s not square one because here I am telling you that I’m in love with you. Please give us a chance Y/n.”

You wished the moment was more glamorous as you kissed the woman in front of you. You hadn’t denied her yet and you never planned to. Her hands locked behind your neck while yours rested on her waist.

Your breath was shaky when the kiss ended. Neither of you moved.

“I love you too,” you pecked her lips again.

Wanda blushed, but you were more focused on the way she looked at you. Her eyes were full of nothing but tenderness.

“Would you take the key back?”

You raised your eyebrow, “Why does it feel like you’re asking me for something else?”

She feigned innocence, “I’m not. Unless you think that what you said yesterday about keys is true.”

“Remind me what I said again?”

Her fingers played with the hairs at the base of your neck, “A key to my flat means girlfriend.”

You pretended to think about it, “Girlfriend?”

She nodded, “Girlfriend.”

“I guess I’ll have to get you a key too then,” you said softly.

This time Wanda leaned in for a kiss. It was supposed to be a peck, but you both got lost in that moment. Neither willingly to part with the other just yet. Lips fitting together to create a soft lullaby of security.

You never thought you’d be lucky enough to have Wanda in this way. She was your best friend, your person, and now your girlfriend. It may have taken years, but you wouldn’t have had it any other way. Wanda cherished you just as much. She felt like an idiot for not realizing her feelings sooner, but she was just happy to call you, her girl.

And one day, she would be ecstatic to call you, her wife.

[viperify]

1k celebration | ᴀᴄᴀᴅ. ʀɪᴠᴀʟ ꜱᴜʙ!ᴛᴏᴍ ʀɪᴅᴅʟᴇ x ꜰ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

⋆˚𝜗𝜚 ˖ Good Boy.

Short Summary: Tom Riddle and you have been fierce rivals for as long as you can remember. The year you finally beat him for top student, certain secrets come to light.

Warnings: 18+ only! sub!Tom—I mean it. submissive. mentions of intoxication, unprotected p in v, begging, brief handjob, teasing, edging, slight dacryphilia, creampie, face riding, oral f!receiving

A/N: here it isss!!! This is based of @tomriddleemp’s request! Thanks again for requesting, baby!

wordcount: 3,4k

in this fic, you will find HINT NR #6

The Great Hall erupts in cheers when your name is called. Your heart drops—head spinning. You’ve won it, made it. Become student of the year. You remember how hard you have fought for it. Pulled countless all-nighters just to get ahead of Riddle—who had defended the title for as long as you can remember.

You walk up to the professors and headmaster, facing all other students who seem to be quite pleased with your victory. Then, you hold your winner’s speech that you have prepared—half as a joke, half seriously. Your eyes flick towards Tom, briefly. The chatter and cheers fade into a blur, silence engulfing you as though time stills the moment your eyes meet his.

He sits there, next to his friends. They glance at him, then at you. None of them dare to move, sitting there like carved out of stone. As always, he’s controlling them as though they were his puppets. His expression is closed, guarded—like he can’t believe it. There is fire behind his eyes. Hatred. Probably already thinking about a way to make you pay for it. Find a reason for his failure.

That same evening, his head hurts from how hard he’s been trying to figure out how to discredit you. There is nothing. You’ve beaten him fair and square. He might hate you even more for it. 

Hates how much he admires you. For not backing down, for working hard all year long—when he took time off, you studied. He admires you for what you have become. 

He’s known you for years. Ever since you boarded the train as eleven-year-olds. Now, many years later—you are the person who’ll receive the opportunity for an internship at the Ministry this year. Instead of him.

The end-of-the-year party hosted the next day is mandatory for all students—he wouldn’t attend otherwise. There are more important things to do, and partying has never sparked his interest.

—

But just like the top student, interests can change, can’t they?

He’s gotten himself more drinks than he intended. And when one of them tastes slightly off—he doesn’t notice at first. Assumes they have put less alcohol in his firewhiskey. Goes to complain about it, just to almost get kicked out—his vision is blurry, his usually strong vocabulary reduced to a few select words. Barely able to walk. Other students are staring at him now—and the state of him.

It was not the Tom Riddle people knew—and he’d surely hate himself for it in the morning. Drinking, because of you. He’s never done this. Resort to alcohol when he is upset. And he knows there is more behind it—something he can’t quite grasp.

“Riddle! I want you and Riddle to go in there.” Your friend giggles, almost spilling her drink all over herself. Your eyes widen in horror. She can’t be serious, right? You clasp your hand over her mouth, but it’s too late. The others cheer you on, and Tom turns around from where he’s standing, having barely even registered his name being called.

Before you get to complain, a hand wraps around your wrist, and you are pushed towards a nearby broom closet—Riddle following you.

Your eyes narrow at the sight of him. One of the Gryffindor guys tugging on his sacred suit—and he doesn’t even bat an eye. His walk is unsteady, a half-empty glass of firewhiskey in right hand. Then, he gets shoved into the tight space, right next to you—and the door shuts close.

You fetch your wand, creating a small source of light. Tom is looking right at you, smirking while he takes a sip. You stare back at him for a moment, eyes scanning over his taller figure. Unsteady legs, dilated pupils—smell of alcohol so thick in the air, you have to keep yourself from gagging.

“You shouldn't look at me like that when we're alone. You know exactly what you're doing to me.” He manages between a few breaths, voice husky and suggestive.

The dots connect in your brain, and you take a step back, eyebrows furrowed.

“You are drunk, Riddle. Since when do you even drink?”

“M’ not,” he slurs, leaning in so close you have to push him away, steadying him. You definitely prefer him all arrogant and untouchable—not like this.

“Come on. I have a sober-up potion in my dorm. Can’t have you embarrass yourself—even I have some decency left.” You say quickly, intertwining your arm with his and slowly pushing the door open, checking whether anyone is watching. Then, you lead him away from the crowd, into the corridor and towards your dorm.

You have to stop several times so he doesn’t trip.

“Taking me to your dorm, huh? I have always wondered what it might look like from the inside. If you have pictures of your family, friends—your adorable little hobbies. What was it? Crocheting?” He stops mid-track and takes another sip.

These were probably the clearest sentences he’s spoken all evening—and you wonder how he knows all of this—why he knows and has remembered it. 

Why he chose to tell you.

You shake your head. “You are out of your mind, Riddle. What have they given you to drink?” You snatch the glass he’s been holding this whole time and hold it close to your nose. Immediately, you recognize a trace of something herbal that was definitely not firewhiskey.

Veritaserum.

Well, you certainly do not have an antidote for that. It is badly brewed too—Veritaserum is supposed to be taste- and odourless. So the effects may last shorter or longer—

“Let’s go. Quick.”

When you shove him past the entrance to your dorm, closing the door behind you, a deep sigh falls over your lips. A drunk Tom Riddle in your room is not how you pictured this night to go. Certainly not a drunk Tom Riddle who is overly affectionate and honest.

You open your drawer, scrambling through the contents. A blue vial catches your attention, and you grab it. That must be it.

“Here, drink this.” You say, turning around—just to see him sprawled out on your bed, eyes scanning your room. Pausing at the pictures of you and your family on the wall next to your bed. You walk over to him with hurried steps, grabbing his arm and pulling him upright.

“Please just— drink this.”

His lips lift into a smirk, and his hands grip your waist, pulling you closer. So close, you almost lose your balance and fall on top of him.

“Sit on my lap,” he instructs, looking up at you with those big brown eyes of his. So soft now—unguarded and genuine. You’ve never seen them this close. Your heart skips a beat, and you look away, suddenly feeling hot all over.

Fuck.

He is drunk, you tell yourself. He’ll push you away as soon as the first drop of the potion touches his tongue.

“You don’t actually want me to. It’s the alcohol that’s talking for you,” you try, but he shakes his head.

“I have never wanted something as much as I want this.”

Usually, you pride yourself on your rational thinking skills. They are screaming no. But your instincts are screaming louder—and they are saying yes.

Then, you do get on his lap. Carefully. Hook one leg over his, then the second. He pulls you closer.

Darkened eyes instantly dropping to the hem of the dress you are wearing—it’s short, almost too short now. Your favourite. A black, satin material with glitter elements. It’s gorgeous—and he can’t take his eyes off you. How perfectly it hugs your curves, cut low enough for him to see the soft swell of your tits.

Your face heats up at the realisation of what he might be thinking. Meanwhile, his hand comes to rest on your thigh, wandering higher and higher—

“Drink this. Now!” You blurt out, opening the vial in a haste, placing the head of the bottle against his lips—and he empties it in one go.

You watch his reaction. His pupils shrink back to normal, and he breathes out—shakily.

Instantly, you try to get off—but he stops you. Without words, just tightens his grip. One hand on your thigh, the other on the curve of your hip. Fingers digging into your skin. He watches you for a moment, takes in his surroundings. The situation he is in.

At peace, no longer surrounded by loud music and the thick stench of alcohol in the air. Instead, it smells like perfume—a sweet scent, floral. Jasmine, perhaps. 

With—you on his lap. He only faintly remembers how he got here.

Still, he can’t find himself complaining.

Your head spins as seconds pass. And suddenly, he is everywhere. His breath, his eyes, his hands. The bulge you feel growing beneath you.

“Stay.” He murmurs, finally.

You nod, reluctantly. Relax against him. The tension between you two is at an all-time high—and it feels different now. Not the academic type. It feels like the one-wrong-move-and-I-moan kind of tension. You try to avoid his gaze as best as you can, looking over to the drawer.

“I— I can look if I have another. You are not well.”

He shakes his head. “I am doing fine.”

“But—“

His hand cups your face, gently guiding your gaze back to his. “Shhh.” He whispers, drawing soft patterns on your waist. 

Your protest catches in your throat as you get lost in the depth of his brown eyes—and he uses that moment to tenderly brush his thumb over your lips. Then, he leans in, slowly but surely, and presses a kiss to them. Soft, gentle, deliberate.

“We shouldn’t,” you whisper against his lips, shaking your head.

“You are right, we shouldn't. But that's exactly why it feels so good.”

His fingers brush your skin as he eases the first strap of your dress from your shoulder. You kiss him again—and your mind goes blank. Suddenly the year-long rivalry between you both is forgotten, or doesn’t matter—not now, at least.

What matters is him and you, this moment.

“Do you hate me as much as you pretend?” You whisper as you break apart.

His eyes scan your face. “No. Never have.”

You’ve never thought there’d be a day where you would thank whoever invented Veritaserum. But it has come.

The second strap follows—and your dress slips down to bunch around your waist—Tom’s gaze following the satin fabric, lingering on your tits for a moment, placing a kiss to your sternum—looking up at you as he does. His grip on your thigh softens—the slightest twitch in his finger. Yet, you feel it. Feel how he softens, opening himself up to you. The usual harshness vanished—big brown doe eyes staring back at yours. 

The energy between you shifts in that moment, and both of you sense it. Confidence blooms in your chest, and you slide off his lap, stepping out of your dress as it drops to the floor. He watches your every movement, eyes following your hands as you undress in front of him.

First your bra, discarding the lace on the floor. His hands cup the soft curve of your hips once more, trailing kisses up your lower tummy as his fingers hook into your panties, slipping them down your legs. An action so calculated, you could mistake it for one straight out of your countless romance novels.

“What are you waiting for, Tom?” You purr, pulling him closer by his tie as you bend over, kissing him. “Need me to help you?”

Words fail to form in his brain. He nods, breathless. “Please.”

You sit down on his lap again. Naked. He swallows, hard. Fabric of his trousers stretching taut over the dent that has formed beneath them.

Piece by piece drops to the ground. His suit, his tie, his shirt. Lastly, his trousers and underwear. You let him step out of them, capturing him in another kiss.

“You like when someone takes control for once? Gives that beautiful brain of yours a break?”

Again, he nods.

You huff a laugh. “Lay down, then. Just lie there and look pretty for me, okay?”

He follows your order without a moment of hesitation. Lies down on your soft mattress, which dips beneath him. His eyes don’t leave yours, not even when you climb on top of him and settle on his thighs.

“That’s what you do best, after all.” You continue, trailing your hands up his thighs—making him breathe in, sharply. “Looking pretty—a shame you weren’t just as good in class this year. I wouldn’t have stood a chance.”

You don’t give him time to find an answer—wrapping your hands around his cock, your finger ever so gently following a thick vein on the underside, which stretches all the way to his flushed tip—already glistening with precum. His head drops back at the sensation, eyes squeezed shut, lips slightly parted.

God, he is gorgeous like this.

Tom’s hands reluctantly reach to touch you, palming your tits—but you shake your head, pinning them to his side instead. “No touching. Just watching.”

Then, your hand wraps tightly around his length, giving him a few gentle strokes. He hisses as you do—hips jolting upwards. 

So sensitive.

“Fuck,” he rasps, fingers curling into the bedsheets. “I need to feel you. God— let me feel you.”

“Hm. I think you forgot something,” you reply, thumb swiping over his tip, a ghost of a touch—but he is so, so reactive.

“Please,” he whimpers, finally. “Please let me feel you.”

You grant him his wish. Positioning his tip on your entrance, you slowly, carefully sink down on his length. Inch by torturous inch. Until you are flush with his hips—a soft moan escaping you. He is the perfect combination of girth and length, stretching you open perfectly. You place your hand on his chest and start moving. Rolling your hips against his, gently at first.

Tom has to fight himself not to touch you. He wants to—so badly. Wants to feel your smooth skin, feel your curves beneath his hands when he closes his eyes. Yet, he refrains. Lets you have control over him. It’s hard—but the longer he endures, the more he enjoys it. Being able to shut off his brain. Just feel.

You swipe a curl from his face, leaning over to press a kiss to his swollen lips. “Touch me.”

He doesn’t need to be told twice. Hands wandering over your hips, waist, to your tits. Palming them, squeezing. Whimpers here and there when you take him all the way. Reacts to every change in pace, angle. Looks at you as though you were an angel sent from heaven—soft, beautiful, mesmerizing. How tight you are squeezing him, how you manage to make each moment better than the last. Your own soft moans music to his ears. It drives him to the edge of sanity.

You notice when he gets louder, his eyes fluttering closed. Take in his expression, stilling your movements. 

“Look at me,” you murmur, taking one of his hands in yours.

Tom whines as he does—soft, broken. Lips swollen and bleeding from how hard he’s been biting them. Tears pricking at his eyes. He is so close—just in reach. So sensitive, it hurts.

Lifting yourself slowly, you sink down again—steadily, just to tease him.

Yet, you feel him pulse inside you, eyes rolling to the back of his head—hips stuttering beneath you.

“Shh.” You whisper, silencing him with a finger on his lips, shaking your head softly as you force him to look into your eyes. “Don’t come yet. Don’t you dare come yet.”

He nods, a tear rolling down his cheek. You wipe it off with your thumb.

“Don’t cry, pretty boy. All you need to do is ask.”

No hesitation. Pure and raw need. “Please— fuck, please let me cum. Please—“

Smiling at him, you get off—instead taking his cock in your hand, soaked in your arousal. You caress over his tip—which pulses at your touch. He moans, hips jerking up at the slightest contact. Chasing your touch—anything.

“That desperate? Poor you. Just want to cum, don’t you, Tommy?” You mock with fake sympathy, head dipping to place a kiss right below his sensitive tip. 

He nods, hastily. Groans when you give him a single stroke—slow, not even remotely tight enough for it to feel good. Yet—his eyes beg for more. He’ll take anything at this point. You grin at the state of him, satisfied. You’ve broken him. Great Tom Riddle, looking up at you like a lost puppy with his big brown eyes. Even prettier than usual. So soft, so submissive. You could get used to this.

“Why don’t you tell me how much you want it? Show me how pathetic you can sound while begging?”

His lip quivers. “I am— God, I want— I need it. It’s all for you— just please—“ he whimpers, and you press a kiss to his forehead, shushing him.

“Good boy. Such a good boy.”

Your hand wraps around him again, giving him a few more strokes, dragging it out. Over his swollen tip, eagerly leaking with need. “No, Tommy.” You whisper. “Not yet. Wait for my permission.”

You are pushing him to his limits, and you know it. “Please,” he whispers, broken, half a sob. “I’ll do anything.”

Deciding to end his torture, you sink down on him once more, angling yourself better. Using the last bit of strength left in your thighs.

“Come for me, pretty boy.”

And he does—hard. The feeling of your warm cunt wrapped so snugly around him, clamping down—he loses it. Whimpering your name as thick ropes of cum paint your walls white, hips stuttering beneath you, every muscle in his body wrung tight. Hands interlocked with his as you guide him through it, praise him.

It lasts several long seconds—and after, his body just goes limp on your bed, chest heaving, eyes closed.

You give him a minute to calm down before you gently lift yourself off of him, getting a towel to clean the both of you.

But he stops you. Holds onto your wrist. You turn to face him, about to ask what’s wrong—

“Sit on my face, please?”

You quirk an eyebrow. “Are you sure? I don’t need to—”

“Yes, absolutely. Please?” He asks again, and you don’t deny him this time.

Fingers digging into your hips, pulling you even closer—and God, his tongue works magic. Licking and sucking on your clit just the right way, you soon find yourself a trembling mess on top of him.

“How do we taste, Tommy? You like it?” You breathe, accompanied by a moan.

He nods, humming against your soaked cunt—greedily lapping up your mixed arousal. “Good. So good.”

Tom doesn’t let go immediately—not even when your climax washes over you with such force, you see stars dancing in front of you, vision going black at the edges. Your thighs tremble, no longer able to hold yourself up—but he loves it. Doesn’t stop sucking on your clit until you beg him to.

After cleaning everything up, you settle down beside him—and he pulls you in, holding you close until you fall asleep.

Tom knows he can’t stay. That you might regret this the morning after.

So, after double-checking you are asleep, he quietly gets up, dresses himself. Looks back one last time at your sleeping form. Smiles to himself. Then, he pushes down the handle of the door, and with silent steps walks down the corridor to his own dorm, the first golden sun rays of the morning lighting his way, casting a glow on his messy curls.

When you wake the next morning, the spot next to you in your bed is empty, cold. He’s gone, and that for a while, although it’s only 6:00.

You wonder whether he regrets last night, if he regrets you.

That is, until you spot a note on your bedside table.

thank you for reading! feel free to reblog and leave feedback <3 — masterlist. | 1k celebration. <- event masterlist.

©2025 viperify. please do not copy, translate or claim my work as your own.

[jaehaeryshater]

The Day Viserys Sold Rhaella’s Crown

Viserys and Daenerys by @nautieval, beloved oomfie

Just like all my other comm ideas, this has been something I have been sitting on for quite a while now. This one I’ve had on my mind since October, if I remember correctly. The thing is, I am so particular and mindful with the art I commission. Everyone I work with is incredibly talented and I appreciate all of them; I am simply of the opinion that different styles that I have in mind work better with some people and everyone works best with different characters, usually characters that they have a passion for. So I’ve been looking for someone that does Targaryens and depicts child characters in a way that speaks to me. Finally, I found Shep, who also did an infant version of my OC Bael Whitewolf back in January. He did a phenomenal job with that, and I think you all will agree that he did a phenomenal job here as well. Since this piece is portraying children, I love the feel of something more storybook-esque and more vibrant in color. This is perfect, in my opinion. Shep is my mutual on twitter and I adore him so I’m hoping everyone checks out his other work as well.

What’s always bothered me has been the lack of people talking about Viserys and Daenerys’s life before the events of AGOT and how things are from his perspective. This is understandable because there aren’t as many details on it as we get in the main storyline. Viserys also turns out to be an abuser so people do not wish to make excuses for him, I do not blame them. I merely think understanding him is important to who Daenerys becomes as a character and how she has thus far avoided becoming who he became, even when met with great hardship. It is not my belief that Viserys was born “mad” or from some kind of Targaryen curse, I think he broke under pressure and trauma. That does not excuse him, all it means is that is not evidence that Daenerys is l genetically predisposed to madness. I am also of the belief that Viserys loved her and that she did not lack for love as a small child, only the amount of people she could go to for that love. That created an immense trauma bond between the two of them. Further, I don’t think he ever lapsed in love of her, but his abuse of her lapsed any relevancy of that love. He probably did plan on her eventually joining her in Westeros because I don’t think he would fare well being without her for long, but I don’t think he had much of a plan beyond that because he is not a sane person.

It is said Viserys lost joy and his sanity when he sold his mother’s crown in order to keep him and Daenerys fed. I can totally see that. Viserys remembers his family and how they were taken from him, which left him with the responsibility of Daenerys. He had Willam Darry at first, but when he died, he was forced to be a sole caregiver very young (and had had the burden of an emotional and probably to some extent physical caregiver for her even before then). Viserys taught Daenerys what he knew and seemed to take his responsibility somewhat seriously for a time. It was most likely very humiliating and traumatic to have to go from Free City to Free City, begging people to house and feed him and his sister. He’s at the will of these powerful men and they all eventually abandon him and he will have to start over, he’s fully aware of that. Selling Rhaella’s crown to keep Daenerys fed was giving up the memory of his family, he has nothing left (and yet, he agrees to give Daenerys up, whether he thought it would be long term or not, later on). That, to me, was probably the tipping point of him breaking down mentally.

All that to say, here he is, playing with Daenerys the evening after he sold Rhaella’s crown. He’s still at this point making an attempt to shield Daenerys from trauma and keep her happy, but his eyes are empty and in time, he will descend into cruelty and abuse towards her. For now he’s fighting it. She is unaware of what’s going on because she is young, which probably is frustrating to him. By the time she’s his age, she will know much too well the cruelty of the world. They are currently seeking shelter in an abandoned building while they await the next ship to come to port to take them to the next Free City. It was important to me to show he wasn’t all there and that Daenerys is just trying to play and be happy. It shows a childlike ignorance of what is to come, not knowing that this familial love, for what it is, is not to persist for long.

I hope it did not come across that I am romanticizing or excusing Viserys’s actions, that is the furthest thing from my mind. I just think his relationship with Daenerys is fascinating.

Here are some other version for you guys. I did get full render at first, but I preferred it with less detail, I found. I’m sure there will be others that enjoy the full render more. My endless thanks to @nautieval for doing this for me.

[pucksandpower]

hiii! with the chaos that was today’s career, could I request one with driver reader that she started telling her team that she wasn’t feeling good but still wanted to continue but the next moment she isn’t answering her radio because she fainted in the car and the car goes out, the marshals take her out of the car and she doesn’t wake up, maybe she has extreme dehydration and is hot to touch, etc.

How the other drivers react when they found out, her team, etc.

Thank you

Too Hot To Handle

Max Verstappen x Red Bull driver!Reader

Summary: the Qatar Grand Prix pushed every driver to the limit … and some past the limit

Warnings: heat stroke, dehydration, crash, medical conditions

The Lusail International Circuit hums with electric anticipation, its asphalt ribbon shimmering under the floodlights. The roar of the crowd fills the night but the oppressive heat weighs on everyone, creating a contrasting atmosphere of excitement and cautious apprehension.

Standing alongside your Red Bull Racing car, you wipe a bead of sweat from your brow. In only your first year with the reigning double champions, you already have a record that has quickly become the talk of the paddock. But for all the praise and whispers, there is one voice that stands out.

“Remember, liefje, it’s not just about speed tonight. Keep hydrated, alright?” Max’s voice is full of warmth and concern. His hand rests gently on your arm.

You flash him a confident smile even though you’re battling your nerves internally. “I’ve raced in heat before, Maxie. I won in Singapore. I’ll be fine.”

He pulls you into a quick embrace, the temperature doing little to dampen the spark between you. “It’s different here. This heat ... it’s like nothing I’ve ever raced in before.”

Pulling back, you raise an eyebrow teasingly. “You worried about me, Verstappen?”

He laughs but there’s a hint of steely seriousness in his blue eyes. “Always. Just ... promise me you’ll be careful out there. For both our sakes.”

You nod, touching your helmet to his. “Promise.”

The intercom in your ear crackles to life. “Drivers, to your cars!”

You both exchange a final glance. Racing is in your blood, it’s what brought you together, but it also keeps you apart, if only for the few hours you’re no longer partners in life but competitors on track.

Sliding into your car, you secure your helmet and gloves. The world outside becomes a bit muffled but your focus sharpens. The engine’s purr is a familiar comfort, but tonight, it’s edged with the unease Max’s words left behind.

Your race engineer, Hugh Bird, checks in over the radio, “Everything good, Y/N?”

You take a deep breath, “As good as it’ll ever be. Let’s light up this track.”

“Give them a show.”

Lights out and away we go.

***

The Qatar Grand Prix unfolds with its usual mix of intensity and skill, drivers navigating tight turns and overtaking with precision. But beneath the spectacle, a subtle tension mounts. The oppressive heat, the stark floodlights, and the weight of expectation — all of it seems to be building to something.

In the garage and on the pit wall, your team closely monitors the race and your performance. Hugh occasionally chimes in with updates, “You’re doing great, Y/N. Remember to hydrate whenever you need to.”

You nod even though he can’t see it, “Understood. The heat’s something else in here.”

A pause. Then, “Just keep stead. And Max told GP to tell me to tell you to remember what he said.”

A smile touches your lips, “I always do.”

***

The track is a blur as you push your car to its limits, feeling the adrenaline surge in tandem with the roar of the engines. It’s as if the heat has seeped into your very core, burning with intensity. Each lap feels slightly longer, every turn a tad sharper, as the humid air takes its toll.

“Y/N,” Hugh radioes through, sounding distant and slightly distorted by the pounding in your head, “you’re P2. Great pace. Remember to sip some water.”

A trickle of sweat runs down the side of your face, stinging your eye. Blinking rapidly, you reach for the button that activates your hydration system.

“Got it,” your voice sounds foreign even to your own ears. The water is lukewarm and tastes metallic, not as refreshing as you had hoped.

“Just keep doing what you’re doing,” he urges.

With every lap, the world outside your visor seems to grow brighter, the floodlights shimmering like mirages in a desert. The race has become a battle, not just against other drivers but against the environment and, increasingly, against yourself.

“You’re dropping pace. Is everything alright?” Hugh’s concerned voice crackles through.

A knot tightens in your stomach. “I don’t know. I ...” You trail off, the words catching in your throat as a wave of overwhelming dizziness hits.

You can hear the alarm in your engineer’s voice becoming more pronounced. “Y/N, talk to me. Do we need to pit?”

The heat wraps around you, constricting, making it difficult to breathe. Your hands, slick with sweat, struggle to grip the wheel even through your gloves. “Guys ... I don’t ... feel ...” The world spins and your words falters.

“Y/N? Y/N, talk to me!”

But before you can respond, before you can even finish your sentence, the world tilts and blurs into an incomprehensible whirlwind. The sweltering heat, the relentless pursuit of victory, and the weight of expectation converge into a maelstrom that engulfs you entirely.

Your hands, once deftly steering the RB19, now hang limply by your sides. The car veers off the track, careening towards the barriers. Panic rises in you but it’s too late. Your body refuses to act.

The deafening sound of metal against metal fills your ears, followed by the nauseating sensation of impact. The world outside your cockpit twists and spins, a kaleidoscope of colors and chaos. Then, abruptly, it all goes dark.

In the garage, your team watches in horror as the monitors show the violent crash. The radio falls silent, the connection severed. In that heartbeat, the world goes eerily quiet, punctuated only by the distant echoes of screeching tires and the blaring alarms.

Moments pass like hours and finally the static on the radio clears, replaced by your frantic race engineer, “—please respond. Y/N? Are you okay?”

But there’s no response. Your world remains shrouded in darkness as the circuit comes to a standstill, gripped by an eerie silence that drowns out even the most deafening of cheers.

The track is plunged into chaos. Red flags wave fervently, signaling danger. Marshals rush towards your wrecked car, their fluorescent jackets contrasting brightly against the night.

“Get her out! Get her out!” One of the marshals shouts as they reach your car. Your limp form is carefully extracted and they begin immediate first aid. The severity of the situation is clear — the heat, the dehydration, it’s all taken its toll.

The crowd watches, a collective gasp filling the air soon replaced by a thick, heavy silence. As your unconscious form is stretchered away, the weight of all those warnings crashes down.

Back on the pit wall, four words whispered into the radio are the first of many about to turn your boyfriend’s world upside down.

“Safety car, safety car.”

***

“Max, we’re pitting this lap. Box, box,” the calm, steady voice of Gianpiero Lambiase, Max’s race engineer, instructs over the radio.

Max’s voice is curt, his mind still on the race. “Why? Tires feel fine.”

“Non-negotiable. Safety car is out. We need you to pit now.”

The urgency in GP’s voice is not lost on Max and he immediately senses that something is wrong. “What happened? Why is there a safety car?”

Silence follows for a heartbeat too long. “There was an incident. Just focus on your race.”

An icy dread seeps into Max’s bones. The circuit is massive yet his world feels terribly small at this moment. “Who was it? Who crashed?”

His engineer hesitates, and in that pause, the weight of a thousand possibilities presses on Max.

“Who. Was. It?”

GP wavers, “It’s … Y/N.”

Max’s breathing becomes ragged. Panic and fear flood his system. “Why the hell wasn’t I told immediately?”

“It was team orders. The decision was made to keep you focused on the race.”

Max laughs but it lacks any humor. “Team orders? You’re saying Christian decided not to tell me that Y/N ... my Y/N is hurt?”

“Yes,” the reply is uncharacteristically soft, “It was believed to be in everyone’s best interest for you to be fully focused on the race.”

Max has never felt such white-hot rage. He spits into the radio, seething with fury and pain. “You tell Christian that if he ever makes a decision like that again about someone I love, I’ll cut his balls off with a rusty spoon.”

“Max, I understand you’re upset. But right now, we need you to stay focused.”

Stay focused? When the love of his life is in potential danger? The weight of what that means presses down, threatening to crush him. “I need to see her,” he finally rasps out, voice breaking.

The plea hangs in the air, met by another long silence. Finally, the radio clicks on again, softer than ever. “Y/N would want you to finish. You know that. Win this for her.”

Tears blur Max’s vision, mixing with the sweat already pooling in his helmet, but he nods, a silent assent. The roaring engine now sounds distant, the glinting lights a backdrop to the storm that rages within him. Every second is an eternity, every turn a test of his resolve to keep racing. But Max drives on, pushing his limits for you.

Every fiber of his being silently screams your name, a prayer or a promise or both, Max doesn’t know. All he knows is that the faster he crosses the finish line, the sooner he can be with you.

For the world watching, the race continues, cars whizzing by. But for Max Verstappen, each lap, each second, is a race against his own heart, torn between duty and desperate love.

***

“Her pulse is erratic! Get the defibrillator ready!” A medic shouts as the emergency team frantically works around you, the ambulance parked haphazardly nearby.

Another voice, calmer but filled with urgency, counters, “Wait, give her a moment. She might come around.”

“Come on, Y/N,” A young medic mutters, pressing an oxygen mask to your face. “Don’t do this.”

The ambulance door opens again, the head medic speaking into a radio, “We need an airlift, now. The situation’s deteriorating rapidly.”

Another voice, muffled, replies, “The helicopter’s on its way! Clear the area.”

As the medics continue to administer aid, working desperately to stabilize you, the chief medic tries to maintain order, “Every second counts. This heat stroke is severe, coupled with dehydration ... it’s a nightmare scenario.”

“We should have had more cooling stations,” the younger medic mutters. “The humidity coupled with the heat ... it’s brutal tonight. And we’re not even the ones out there driving.”

The older medic takes a deep breath. “That is on the organizations. We can’t fix there mistakes but we can focus on what happening now and do everything we can to get her through this.”

The thrum of helicopter blades soon overwhelms the noise of the circuit, growing louder as it approaches. Soon, the bright light from its landing spotlight punctuates the night. “The helicopter’s here!” Someone shouts.

“Alright, team, on three,” the chief medic commands. They work in perfect sync, lifting you carefully but quickly, your body still unresponsive.

As they approach the helicopter, the pilot shouts over the roar, “We’ve got the best onboard. She’s in good hands.”

“She’s one of our best,” the younger medic shouts back. “She has to be okay.”

The chief medic, securing you inside, murmurs more to himself than anyone else, “Come on, Y/N. The race isn’t over. Keep fighting.”

***

“You expect me to smile and stand on that podium knowing she’s been airlifted to a hospital?” Max’s voice trembles with rage as he confronts the FIA officials blocking his way.

“Mr. Verstappen, there are rules, procedures,” an official replies stiffly.

“Rules? Y/N might be fighting for her life right now and you want to talk to me about rules?” Max’s hands clench and unclench as he physically holds himself back from throwing a punch.

Another official steps forward, trying to mediate, “Max, we understand your feelings but millions of viewers are watching. The podium is an essential part of the race.”

Max’s eyes flash with anger. “You think I care about a trophy when my girlfriend is in a hospital? Do you really think that piece of metal means anything to me right now?”

“We sympathize— ” the first official begins but is cut off by Max’s heated response.

“You sympathize? Do you even know what that word means?” He’s on the verge of breaking, voice barely above a whisper as he continues, “She is everything to me. Everything. And you want me to smile and wave for the cameras?”

The air grows thick with tension. The two drivers from McLaren waiting for their cue to go to the podium are silent, their eyes darting between Max and the officials.

A new voice interjects , “Let him go.”

It’s Lewis Hamilton, who despite DNFing early in the race, made his way across the paddock after seeing the distress on his rival’s face. “There are things more important than a ceremony.”

The officials exchange glances, clearly not expecting this intervention. But before they can reply, Max levels them with a final scathing look. “Fine me if you must! Penalize me! Suspend me for all I care! But I am going to her.”

And off he goes.

***

A nurse at the desk recognizes Max immediately when he runs into the hospital. “Mr. Verstappen,” she begins hesitantly, “Miss Y/L/N is in the ICU. Room 302.”

He doesn’t need any further prompting to sprint down the hall. Reaching the room, he stops dead in his tracks. You’re there, surrounded by machines that beep and whirr, tubes running to and from you, an oxygen mask on your face. The sight of you, once so full of life, now frail and vulnerable, breaks him.

His voice, when he finally managed to finds it, is a choked whisper, “Y/N ...”

Approaching the bedside, Max gently takes your hand, feeling its clamminess. “Hey, liefje ... it’s me,” he murmurs, pressing a tender kiss to your knuckles. His tears fall freely, wetting the back of your hand.

“Come on, love,” his voice cracks as he continues, “You’ve got to pull through this. For us.”

He brushes a strand of hair from your face, tracing the familiar curves and lines he’s come to adore. “Remember that time in Monaco? When we snuck out for that secret dinner that our trainers would have killed us for? We promised each other forever that night. You can’t leave me now. Not when we’ve got so many more memories left to make.”

The room’s silence is punctuated only by the rhythmic beeping of the heart monitor in a cruel reminder of the fragility of the moment.

“I love you so much,” he murmurs. “Please ... please come back to me.”

Leaning in, he rests his forehead against yours, allowing the weight of his anguish, love, and hope to flow between the two of you in the sterile room.

***

Nothing has changed. The steady beep of the heart monitor still punctuates the silence of the hospital room. Max sits vigilantly at your bedside, his hand gently clasping yours.

It’s been three days since the crash and you still have not woken up. The doctors say your condition is stable but uncertain.

Max leans in close and presses a kiss to your forehead. “Morning, liefje. I’m still here. Not going anywhere.”

He brushes a strand of hair from your face, his touch impossibly gentle as if you might break. In the stark hospital lighting, the dark circles under his eyes are visible. Sleep hasn’t come easy to him, not with you lying here.

A soft knock at the door draws Max’s attention. Hugh pokes his head in hesitantly. “Hey, Max. Any change?”

Max shakes his head, swallowing hard. “Nothing yet. But she’s fighting. I know she is.”

Your race engineer steps further into the room, his expression solemn. “I should have seen the signs earlier. Pushed her to hydrate more. Slowed her pace.” His voice catches, “It was my job to look out for her.”

“This wasn’t your fault,” Max says firmly. “Y/N is stubborn. We both know that. She wanted to prove herself.” A ghost of a smile touches his lips. “It’s what makes her brilliant.”

Hugh pulls up a chair on the opposite side of the bed. For a moment, the two men sit in pensive silence. Then your race engineer speaks again, softer this time. “Has she ... has she responded at all? Squeezed your hand or anything?”

Max clenches his jaw and stares past Hugh at the blank wall. “No. Nothing yet. But I know she can hear me. I tell her about training, the team ... I update her on everything. She’ll want to jump right back in when she wakes up.”

Footsteps approach and a nurse enters, checking the equipment and your vitals. After making some notes on a chart, she offers an encouraging smile. “No change but she seems stable. Just keep talking to her. Familiar voices help.”

After she departs, Hugh leans forward, clasping your still hand. “Hear that, Y/N? You’ve got to wake up. The team needs you. Your fans are all rooting for you. And ...” His voice cracks. “I need my driver back.”

Max looks at him gratefully. “We all need her back.” Reaching out, he gives your race engineer’s shoulder a comforting squeeze.

Another knock sounds. This time, it’s Christian. His face is etched with guilt and worry. “Max. Any improvement today?”

Max’s expression hardens. He hasn’t forgotten Christian’s decision to withhold news of your crash. But his voice remains even as he responds to the team principal. “Nothing new.”

Christian pulls up a chair next to Hugh. He chooses his next words carefully. “Max, I need to apologize. I made the wrong call that night. You deserved to know immediately about Y/N. My priorities were skewed.” His voice shakes slightly. “Seeing her like this ... I would give anything to go back and change what I did.”

Max studies him for a long moment and some of the hardness leaves his eyes. “I appreciate that. But right now, the past doesn’t matter. All that matters is her getting better.”

Christian nods. Reaching out, he gently smoothes your hair. “You hear that, Y/N? We’re all here for you. Your whole team. Now you need to come back to us.”

A heavy silence settles on the room once more. The three of them remain clustered around the bed … keeping vigil … willing you to show any small sign of recovery.

After some time passes, the ringing of Hugh’s phone snaps the three men out of their thoughts. “Sorry to interrupt,” your press officer’s voice filters through the speaker, “but the team’s on the line. They want to send their well wishes to Y/N.”

Hugh glances at Max questioningly who nods, “Patch them through. Let the whole team remind her why she needs to wake up.”

A smile tugs at your race engineer’s lips. “You got it. Go ahead, team. She can hear you.”

A chorus of voices floods the room. Your mechanics, pit crew, strategists, PR team … everyone chimes in with encouraging messages.

“Come on, Y/N! We need our star girl back on the grid.”

“You can do this, kid. You’re the toughest one out there!”

“We all believe in you. Keep fighting!”

Max grips your hand tighter, emotions threatening to spill over. Even Christian and Hugh have sheens of tears in their eyes.

“Alright,” your race engineer says after the team signs off. “You heard them. Time to wake up.”

And that’s when Max feels it. A short, weak squeeze of his hand.

Then your eyelids begin to flutter.

“Y/N?” Max leaps to his feet, leaning over you anxiously. “Can you hear me?”

Slowly, painfully, your eyes open, taking in the scene around you. Confusion clouds your expression. “M-Max?” You rasp.

A brilliant smile breaks across Max’s face. Relief floods through him so powerful that his knees nearly buckle as he chokes out, “Yes, yes it’s me! You’re back, liefje. You’re really back.”

Hugh lets out a shaky laugh, scrubbing a hand across his face. “Welcome back, superstar.”

You try to speak again but Max hushes you gently. “Save your strength. We’ve got all the time in the world to talk.”

Christian grins, looking years younger. “Oh thank god. I need to tell the team. They’ll be thrilled. Welcome back, Y/N.” He hurries from the room, phone already in hand.

Your race engineer squeezes your shoulder. “Get some rest. We’ll all be here when you wake up.”

As he and the nurse move discreetly out of the room, you gaze up at Max. “You ... you stayed.”

Max lifts your hand to his lips, blinking back tears. “Of course I stayed. I’ll always stay by your side.”

He leans down, pressing his lips against your chapped ones. All the fear, the uncertainty, the heartache of the past few days melts away.

You’re back. You’re really back. And Max knows, without a shred of doubt, that your lives from this day on will be greater and more meaningful than all your wildest dreams.

***

In the following days, drivers from across the grid make the pilgrimage to your hospital room. They come bearing gifts — flowers, balloons, even a nearly life-size plush race car. But more importantly, they come bearing a message.

“That race should never have happened,” Lewis says solemnly, handing you a get-well card covered in signatures. “The heat was dangerous. We should have acted sooner.”

Esteban grips your hand tightly. “I’m sorry, Y/N. We should have spoken up about the conditions sooner. We all suffered but you suffered most.”

“Your crash woke us all up,” Lance adds. “No trophy is worth risking drivers’ safety even more than we already do each race.”

You’re moved by their solidarity but sigh knowingly. “The FIA would never have listened to just one driver saying something. But maybe they’ll listen to all of us.”

Max’s jaw clenches, residual anger simmering beneath the surface. “They have to listen. We won’t race in unsafe conditions again.”

The other drivers nod, They know the power that you all wield together and for the first time in a long time, you are going to use it.

In a show of outspoken unity, the GPDA drafts a strongly worded letter condemning the lack of caution around extreme heat and demanding tangible changes to make sure drivers aren’t put in avoidable jeopardy.

All twenty of you threaten to strike.

To your surprise, the FIA not only apologizes for the oversight but pledges to implement the requested changes immediately.

“Your crash was a wake-up call,” the FIA president says solemnly during a visit to your hospital room. “We should have protected you better. That will never happen again.”

When he departs, you let out a long breath, leaning back against the pillows. The anger and hurt from that night haven’t disappeared entirely but you feel a sense of hope, that some good has come from the experience.

Max clasps your hand between both of his. “What you went through is unacceptable but you used that to make the sport safer for every driver out there. I’m so proud of you.”

You give him a tired smile. “We did this together. All of us.”

He presses a kiss to your forehead. “Get some rest. When you’re better, we’ve got plenty more checkered flags to take. Side by side.”

The long road to full recovery still lies ahead. But with Max by your side, and all the drivers behind you, you know everything will be okay.

The race goes on but it will be a safer race thanks to you.

[ambrosiagoldfish]

Can you write more Adam fics plz there so freaking good

Benefit of the Doubt PT.2

Adam x 3rd Spouse! Reader

Viewer discretion is advised

Warnings: Hurt/Comfort, Fluff to Angst to comfort, General Adam TW’s, Reader lowkey-highkey has a complex about being loved, Panic attack (I’m not even sure if this is correct term or not), Adam is afraid of heights (makes sense in story) This is set way before the show, and Gn! Reader (Y/n is once again not used lol)

Part 1 Part 3 Part 4

Request Box: Open

Word count: 3136

A/N: Hi! I’d like to Thank you all for the love and support on Part 1! It means a lot that you all enjoyed it as I loved writing it! I’d also like to apologize for this being a week late, I honestly had 0 idea on how to start this one and then a bunch of stuff in my life happened, so it was a mess.

So as an apology I tried to make this one longer than the first! (I seemed to go a little overboard but it’s fine)

Anyways I hope you all enjoy part 2 to ‘Benefit of the doubt’ and as always, if you do, please tell me if want another part in replies/requests/DM’s!

Proofread but of course could have missed something

Tags: @tired-of-life-86

To think love could feel this good.

You were made for it, to give it, receive it… You’ve waited your entire existence for this love, This closeness. It doesn’t even feel real now, even as you’re walking down the golden lined streets of heaven with his arm wrapped around you, all while you’ve been showing him around. The best places to eat, entertainment, or just a nice park. You made sure to show him all of it.

He kept his wings tucked to his sides, the gold contrasting with the white of his robe. The feathers at first glance looked sharp, but now, being so close to him, you could see each of them individually and how soft they must be.

“Hey Sweetcheeks, my eyes are up here”

You jump slightly “Sorry… Adam.” You avert your eyes away from him and focus them in front of you.

Adam laughed “I didn’t say you had to fuxkin’ to stop”

His wings truly were beautiful. It was hard to keep your eyes off them. Adam had only got to heaven recently, it made you wonder if he had the chance to use them yet. You remember when you were first created, wings took forever to get used to. You crashed and fell so many times before you figured out how to use them

Properly.

“Ok seriously, you keep staring, what the fxck is up with you?”

“It’s nothing, just…. Have you tried out your wings yet?”

“Uh, yeah totally, they’re rad as hell” Adam’s voice drifted off, the LED eyes of his mask looking away from you as you both walked. Was he… lying? Why would he lie?

You quickly walked in front of Adam, leaving his warm embrace, gently you took his hands as your wings picked you off the ground. The gust of wind with each flap softly blew around you.

“Well, come on, it will be faster than walking.” Your voice was soft and airy. Slowly, so very slowly, you lifted yourself higher from the ground, Adam’s hands locked firmly in yours, as he was pulled with you in the air.

“W-Wait a- shit- Wait a- motherfuxking second“ Adam yelled strand after strand of curses as you both lifted further and further into the air. His body flailed and his legs kicked against nothing. You pull him to you, his arms quickly snake around your waist, holding on for his dear After-life.

“Adam… did you lie to me?” Your voice was still so soft, so calm, so sweet.

“Fuck- yes I lied, I’m sorry, so put me the fuck down you crazy asshole-“ Vulgar as ever, his voice had fear in it, the LED eyes were forced shut and his grip around you was getting tighter and tighter.

Your arms wrapped around Adam’s head as you laid back, letting The wind breeze from the air pull and push you along its path with your wings soaring through the clouds..

“Adam, it’s ok, I promise you’re fine, all you have to do is open your eyes.”

You pet the back of his neck trying to sooth him which seemed to work after a few seconds. Adam didn’t want to, he really didn’t want to open his eyes. But the longer he kept them close, the more you would whisper soft words of encouragement to him. Eventually, his eyes slowly but surely opened.

“See? There is nothing to be scared of. I’ve got you.”

You hold him closer in your embrace. Adam looked below, the white vastness of heaven’s clouds beneath you both felt unreal, but as amazing a sight it was, Adam’s grip on you didn’t loosen.

“So… I’m guessing you don’t know how to fly yet?” You laugh a little, rubbing a spot on his back, just between his wings comfortingly.

Adam huffed and looked away “oh! I couldn’t fxcking see that!”

You held him close to you. The embrace seemed never ending, and you loved every second of it. Feeling the warmth of his plump body next to you was like a dream come true.

“Here let me just…”

You moved your hands slowly down his arms, caressing the soft flesh as they moved to eventually be at his hands behind you. You began to leisurely undo the grip he had around you.

“What do you think you're doing-“

“Shhh, relax, just trust me, ok?”

With each finger being removed from you, the grip lessened bit by bit, until eventually his hands were fully in yours. Your face leaned closer to his,

“Come on, just give your wings a good flap, trust me.”

“Ugh…. Fine but I swear to god if you let go-“

“I won’t.” Your voice was firm, yet still remained reassuring.

Adam didn’t want to do this. He really didn’t want to. But what other choice did he have? He gruffs and extends his wings from his body. The wind brushed and tickled at his feathers. The way the light hit them caused a glare of gold to be cast from them, enveloping you both. Then, he gave two hard flaps of his wings, he lifted up slightly before quickly falling back to where he was.

“There you go! Now keep doing that.”

Adam continued, his wings slowly pushing him up and up before being sent back down when he stopped. This repeated for a few minutes until he finally got a grip on it. The entire time, you were laughing. Pure unadulterated laughs of joy.

Truly, to think love could feel this good?

“See? You're a natural!”

“Of course I am! I’m the Original Dick, obviously I’d… be good at this… flying… shit.” With all the parading he was doing he kept forgetting to use his wings causing him to fall. ‘A natural’ may have been an overstatement on your part, but hey? At least he hasn’t fallen flat on his face yet!

Gently, you led him through air, giving him reassurance every few feet you flew, never letting go. Seconds turned to minutes, minutes to hours. Before you knew it a brisk orange sunset encased you both with its hue. That’s when you realized just how long you both had been flying.

“You must be tired with sightseeing all day… I think it’s time we go home and rest, yeah?”

“Home?” Adam’s voice sounded for a moment genuinely confused. Had he not been told he’d have a place to live in heaven? As much respect you had for Sera, you’ll have to file a complaint to avoid this with future souls.

You gripped his hand and opened your wings letting the wind lead you through the clouds and above the city. The angels below look like ants at the height you both were. It was peaceful, the flight back home. But it did seem… off? So… quiet? You couldn’t put it together, at least not at the moment, But Adam hadn’t spoken a word since you both left.

Adam, while yes, he was initially confused, it made sense to him, why wouldn’t heaven have a place for its people, a place for each of them to relax, to feel safe, happy, at home.

Home was such a weird word for Adam. Has he ever felt like a place was his ‘home’? The closest thing to it was the Garden of Eden but even that proved to be anything but a home for him. Ever since that snake entered his garden.

No. He can’t think about that now. He doesn’t want to have to think about that again. But oh-do thoughts love to worm their way back into your mind when you least want them to. He’s snaps out of his thoughts when your voice picks up

“Ok, we’re here! Just get yourself settled in and I’ll go make us something to eat. I didn't really know what food you’d like so I mainly just have junk food… I hope that's ok.”

Adam nods his head nonchalantly

You smile, waking him over to the small, plush couch in the living room and handing him a blanket and some pillows. Telling him to wait a second as you fetch some food, leaving him alone.

Adam thought your house seemed welcoming enough, ‘well… our house’ Adam thought. The living room was dark aside from a few luminous lights around the room as well as the small blue gleam from the windows from the night sky.

The couch was comfortable and the pillows just as much. And the blanket you gave him was soft and warm. This really was heaven, huh?

His thoughts are, once again, interrupted by your voice, “Ok here we go, I’ve got snacks and some soda” you say, handing him some of the many food you ravaged from your fridge and sitting beside him, wrapping yourself in the shared blanket.

Grabbing the remote lying next to you, you flick on the TV flipping through the channel before ending on a cheesy sitcom, you keep the volume low wanting to enjoy any conversation with Adam. Except… he never started one. So that’s what felt off.

The entire time you flew back home, got snacks and found something to watch. He hadn't said a word. You may not have known him long but even you had already picked up that he was an advid talker in a conversation.

“Is… everything ok Adam?” You whispered, not want to scare him with your random words.

“What kind of question is that, I’m fxcking fine… I’m fine.” His voice trailed off at the end almost getting as quiet as yours.

“Are you sure cause-“

“I said I’m fuxking fine!” His voice roared through the dark room. Gritty and callous, but you could tell it was meant to hide something. Something he didn’t want you to see.

“I’m sorry…” you paused. What did you want to say from here? What could you say? You took a deep breath and tried to continue. “I… I know I said this earlier… when Sera left.”

Adam’s LED mask looked away from you half shut eyes and a frown forming a scowl on it, but still he let you continue.

“But I’m going to say it again anyways cause… I mean it. I’m really happy to have you here. To finally have you home” you place your arm around Adam’s back rubbing it soothingly as let your head slowly lax onto him, gently cuddling close to him.

That word again… home. That’s all he could think about ever since he first heard you say it. Why? Why couldn’t he get it out of his head? His breathing was becoming unsteady with each new thought and image his brain made. Lilith and Eve, they were made to be apart of his home, for him to be apart of their homes. So why? Why did it end that way?

Suddenly Adam leap from the couch as fast as he could, the shear force knocking you to the other side of the couch, sending the food to scatter and drinks to spill to the floor.

“Adam!?” Your voice was frightened at the sudden movement. Adam looked just as frightened as you, at least from what you could tell through the LED mask. He suddenly began running, where? he didn’t know, the rooms in the house looked the same. But all he knew is that he needed to be away from you. You followed quickly behind him and pleaded for him to tell you what was wrong, but eventually he ran into a room and locked the door.

He looked around, already out of breath. He was in a bathroom. He felt his knees give out under him as he tried to slowly sit down by the tub. His breath heavy, it was hard to breathe, this stupid mask. He needed it off. But just as he went to do so,

*rattle rattle rattle*

The doorknob began to move followed by frantic knocking on the door.

“Adam! Are you ok?!” Your voice pleaded through the wood of the door.

“Fuxk- I'm fine! How many times do I have to tell you that shit” his voice cracked a few times followed by a strand of curses leaving his lips.

Home. The word repeated like a mantra in his head. Like it was mocking him. Was he not meant to have a place he called a home? To have someone to return to, who would tell him “welcome back!” Without even being told to?

Lilith hated him, Eve betrayed and hurt him like no one else before, ever. They were made to be with him, one was literally made to be his other half. The garden, his home, was taken from him because of something, someone he couldn’t control. it all comes back to him. That albino snake in the grass.

Lucifer, ‘The dreamer’… was this some sort of game to him? To toy with his emotions, treat him like some kind of plaything to mess with, to screw over? What kind of life was it? To have every opportunity and opening be broken down by him, And Adam being powerless to stop it?

“Adam! Please open the door!” Your voice was even more frantic now, knocking every few seconds before it quickly quieted down. Your body slumped against the door.

“Adam… I’m sorry if I hurt you or… or if I was going too fast… I didn't mean to… I’m so sorry…” your breath hitched with tears.

And then there was you.

You have been nothing but kind to him since you met him. You showed him around heaven, taught him how to fly and welcomed him home without having being told to. You were so different. So, so very different. Adam figure that out a while ago now. But in reality, it’s exactly why he was terrified.

To have someone who loves him so... unconditionally.

*click*

The sound of the door unlocking drew your attention and was followed by it slowly opening from Adam on the other side, still on the floor.

“Adam!” Your voice was low, already tired from crying. You crawled your way toward him before stopping in front of him, tears still falling from your face, “I’m sorry Adam, I’m sorry-“ you were cut off by a quick movement.

Warmth enveloped you, clouding your senses as a soft weight laid onto you. Arms wrapped their way around you in an embrace.

“Shit- it's not your fault, it was never your fault…” Adam’s voice was surprisingly soft, a stark contrast to his regular tone. Sincerity evident with each word. All you could do was hide into his large frame and cry at the words.

Adam was never good at comforting people. He himself was never comforted, so the concept was more than a bit foreign to him. But even still, he tried. Slowly he helped you both up from the bathroom floor and made your way back to the couch.

The floor was covered in the discarded food you both left behind. The spilled soda is now dried and sticky. Crumbs everywhere.

“Here.. let me get a mop and broom-“

“No just sit down, I’ll clean up the shit I made” you lay down on the couch and watched as Adam swept and mopped the mess from the floor. The entire time the silence hung in the air by a thread. Neither of you wanting to be the one to snap the string and speak.

Finally Adam got done cleaning the mess and made his way to the couch. He sat down and gestured for you to come closer. Crawling over to him, he wrapped the blanket around you both allowing you to snuggle into him.

“Do…” your voice barely audible “Do you want to talk about it?”

Adam looked hesitant but nodded.

“You know about everything, right? About… what all happened in Eden?

You nod against his chest content on listening.

“When… When Lilith left me, I thought I didn't care as much as I did. I thought she was a bitch and that was that. And it didn’t help that as soon as she left, I got Eve…”

He paused

“Then, when I found out about that shit between Eve and Lucifer… I didn’t care then either, but I didn’t understand why…” his voice hitched “but when I ate that damn apple… I realized how hurt I should have been. All the concepts of right and wrong, good and evil, learning all of it through that fruit, I realized one shitty truth… that the one I loved betrayed me.”

You hugged him tighter softly, your hands caressed his stomach as some form of comfort before he continued.

“For the same person- Both of them for that snake…”

“Adam… I’m so sorry you had to go through that.”

“And that’s why… I’m scared. Scared that I will fuxk up again and get… attached to you. Because every. single. time. He ruins it. And I don't want to see that happen with you.”

Your heart ached for him, the saddening look of his LED mask as he talked only furthered your emotions. Slowly your hands made their way to his face, he looks at you confused, your fingertips crept under the mask before his hand shot up and held your wrist slightly, carefully not holding it too tight.

“Sorry fuck- I’m.. I’m not ready.”

You smile and nod understanding “Adam. I love you… with all of my heart. And I would never do what those two done to you. “

Adam thought for a moment deciding what to say.

“Promise?” was all he could think of, his voice, mind, and body were all too tired to speak more about it.

You slowly remove your hands from his mask, instead taking one of his hands into yours.

“I promise, I would never betray you, let alone talk to that man” ever-so lightly, a soft golden glow burned between yours and Adam’s hands, the gold flame was warm and comforting to both of you as it rose and grew in strength.

From the flame, a string wrapped and warped itself around both yours and Adam’s pinky fingers. The string tightened and loosened as it moved, before finally melting away leaving only two solid gold rings behind, One on Adam’s finger and the other on yours.

“What the hell was that?” Adam’s voice was filled with bewilderment

“A deal- or I guess a promise. In this case”

“Shit, You didn’t have to do that-“ this time it was your turn to interrupt him. You bring Adam’s hand to your lips, and give a kiss on his newly formed ring before lying down and cuddling into Adam.

“I know.”

For once in his life, Adam felt at ease with love. How easy it was to fall for you.

Is this what home feels like?

[starcurtain]

2.1 Penacony Spoilers!

I know the scene after Ratio's "betrayal" can be read a lot of ways but I am shocked I haven't seen more people interpret it as Ratio being so worried about Aventurine that he couldn't stay away even though he was supposed to.

We know:

1) Ratio absolutely knew Aventurine's plan from start to finish, both his gamble to create "death" in the dream and with the three cornerstones. (Wish people would stop underselling Ratio in their analyses; "Three chips are enough" is a direct enough clue that, genius as he is, Ratio would never miss.)

2) In his own words, Ratio was acting according to Aventurine's instructions while in Dewlight Pavilion and with Sunday and felt that he did a good job not giving them away.

I think most people are on the same page up to there, but then I've seen a lot of people interpreting this scene after Aventurine leaves Sunday's mansion as Aventurine being genuinely angry at Ratio (possibly after having gaslit himself into thinking Ratio was actually betraying him).

But this doesn't make much sense to me because:

1) Ratio actually has nothing to gain by selling Aventurine out to Sunday. They're on the same side in this mission. Information about a Stelleron on Penacony wouldn't be news anyone with a brain like Ratio's and why would he need someone else's research on Stellerons when he already has ties to the Genius Society through Screwllum and Herta, as well as the Astral Express where the Trailblazer is actively housing a Stelleron?

2) One of Aventurine's most notable lines of dialogue is how it's perfectly fine and expected for "friends" to use each other and backstab. This is his default understanding of partners--why would he suddenly be mad about something he expected from the start?

3) If the betrayal wasn't already planned and was just a possibility based on Aventurine's understanding of Ratio, why would he ever have revealed there were "three chips" (aka three cornerstones) in play? If even the betrayal over Topaz's stone wasn't planned, just assumed, why would Aventurine reveal the existence of the third stone? He would gain nothing from doing so.

Instead, I think it makes a lot more sense to interpret Aventurine's frustration with Ratio in this later scene as annoyance over Ratio taking an "unnecessary" risk:

1) As far as Sunday knows, Ratio had just very seriously betrayed Aventurine, completely selling him out and essentially sending him to his execution.

2) In the scene afterward, Aventurine is out in public in the middle of Penacony where The Family's eyes are always watching, yet Ratio walks right up to him to check on him. Why would someone who just sold you out come up to you immediately afterward to check on your health?!

3) It's only natural that Aventurine would pump the brakes and go "Wow, didn't think you'd show yourself after you just betrayed me, remember?" Because that's the act they are supposed to be keeping up! They're still being monitored; it's not safe to break character!

But Ratio is a genius, right, so why would he break character here? From the standpoint of the ploy itself, revealing to the Family that he and Aventurine were still on the same side would only jeopardize the plan, not help it.

The logical explanation, then, is that Ratio went to Aventurine here because he felt like he had to.

He had to check in and make sure the situation was still under Aventurine's control.

(In fact, the entire exchange through the middle of this scene is Aventurine and Ratio confirming the rest of their plot in a veiled manner: Ratio brings up the plan and mentions what's concealed in the gift money bag, Aventurine confirms the cornerstone is good to go; Ratio asks what his next step will be; Aventurine says he's going to do the insane thing of handing out cash while looking pathetic [aka fishing for Sparkle]. Ratio essentially asks if he's crazy enough to take the final gamble with his own life, which Aventurine confirms, and then Ratio sets them up for the finale by gifting him the doctor's note.)

Ratio was willing to risk ruining their entire plan--something Aventurine does seem to be frustrated about at first--just to ensure Aventurine still felt all right about the situation.

He needed to deliver his note demanding Aventurine stay alive.

He needed to tell Aventurine to come to him if the situation got too painful to bear.

In short, Ratio was worried enough that he could not stay away even though, for the sake of their plot, it would have made significantly more sense for him not to appear. The gain of breaking character was worth more to him than the risk of being caught.

You honestly don't even have to take this in a shipping context. The real point here is that Ratio is an incredibly good person who wasn't okay with Aventurine's self-sacrificial plan and who felt morally compelled to check on a person in pain. He's a healer through and through, and ignoring Aventurine in this condition--ignoring someone who was taking so much risk on themselves--simply wasn't possible for him, no matter the danger it posed to the plan.

But for those who do ship Ratio and Aventurine... I hope more people will come to see this scene as another example of Ratio's genuine concern for his mission partner! He did not have to appear here at all; it would have made much more sense for him to leave Aventurine to his own devices to uphold the illusion of their "betrayal." He showed up in this scene--very likely against Aventurine's expectations--because he was concerned for Aventurine's situation and wanted to ensure Aventurine knew he could fall back on Ratio's support at any time if the plan went awry.

tl;dr: I wish people would stop interpreting this scene as the aftermath of a betrayal. Aventurine wasn't ticked off with Ratio in this scene because he felt like he'd genuinely been backstabbed; he was ticked off because Ratio was literally breaking their pre-established "betrayer" character just to be fussy over Aventurine's safety and well-being. (Okay, and to double check on the plan, but let's be real, the first part was definitely more important. 👌)

[eclipixels]

Signature Dish

Kakashi Hatake x Reader

Content: History seems to repeat itself…

[1,086 words]

      You had no missions for the next two weeks, thank lord fourth for that. With nothing major on your plate, you spent the day running simple errands. After returning from the grocery store, an idea struck you—why not surprise the kids with a homemade lunch?

      Well, not your kids, obviously. But you treated them like they were. Especially Sasuke. Out of all the adults in Sasuke’s life, he just seemed to click with you. And also because he needed all the emotional support he could get. The last thing you wanted was for him to end up like Orochimaru, Nagato, or Madara. The Uchiha clan really had a history of issues… yikes.

      You couldn’t help but chuckle, remembering the time Naruto broke into your house, with Sasuke and Sakura trailing behind, desperately trying to stop him. Of course, he didn’t listen. He somehow found this dish you had been perfecting, and before you knew it, all three of them were on the kitchen floor, faces stuffed. The noises they made were so chaotic that you and Kakashi had genuinely thought a tailed beast had invaded.

      For lunch today, you decided to make that same dish. You packed everything neatly into a golden woven basket, along with some cups, a teapot, and green tea leaves.

      As you left the house and made your way toward the training field, you recalled Kakashi mentioning that today’s session was in the forest nearby. Great. More walking. Why did your husband have to drag these kids out to the middle of nowhere for training?

      Once inside the forest, you spotted their distinct hair colors from afar. As you got closer, you could see they were still training. Kakashi noticed you first, offering a subtle smile before calling for a break.

      “Finally! I thought we were never gonna stop," Naruto groaned, plopping onto a rock under the shade.

      ”Sensei!" Sakura was the first to call out as soon as she spotted you.

      "Huh? Y/n Sensei? What’re you doing here?" Naruto ran toward you while Sakura threw herself into a tight hug.

      "I made you guys lunch! It’s Y/n’s special. You know, the one you broke into our house for," you teased, placing the basket on a nearby log.

      "Yes! I love the food you make, it’s always the best!" Naruto cheered.

      "Way better than anything from a restaurant!" Sakura added, practically glowing with excitement.

      "Tch." Sasuke, as expected, sat a little farther away from the group, arms crossed.

      Leaning in close, you whispered to Kakashi, "Hey, why don’t you set up the food? I’ll be right back."

      You made your way over to Sasuke, resting a gentle hand on his shoulder. "I made lunch for everyone. Come eat with us?"

      "I’m gonna keep practicing. You guys go ahead. I’m not even that hungry," he muttered.

      "Really? I made my signature dish. I thought that was your favorite," you said, frowning slightly.

      "Whatever. I don’t even like it that much—" His words were cut off by the loud growl of his stomach.

      You raised an eyebrow. "Really?"

      Sasuke scowled but said nothing as you grabbed his wrist and dragged him toward the others.

      Lunch was lively. Naruto and Sakura showered you with praise, while Kakashi casually enjoyed his food, lost in thought. You noticed the team had gotten stronger, and you couldn’t wait to see them take on higher-ranked missions.

      "Oh, by the way," Kakashi chimed in between bites, "your advice about Naruto and Sasuke combining their jutsus actually worked."

      "Wait, seriously? What did you guys create?" You perked up, feeling a rush of pride.

      "Rasengan Chidori!" Naruto blurted out, his mouth still full.

      "It’s Chidori Rasengan, you idiot," Sasuke huffed.

      "I think Rasengan Chidori rolls off the tongue better, don’t ya think?" Naruto argued.

      You laughed. "Are you two really fighting over whose jutsu name comes first? Why not come up with a completely new one together?"

      "The lightning thunderball of doom…gan!" Naruto exclaimed, thrusting his fist into the air, looking way too proud of himself.

      Everyone just stared.

      "What? Whatever, we’ll figure it out later," Sasuke grumbled, sipping his tea.

      “It’s a work in progress.” Naruto shrugged.

      Kakashi, meanwhile, remained deep in thought, his gaze distant. You wondered what was on his mind.

      That evening, far from the training grounds, Minato and Kushina sat together after a long day.

      "Why hasn’t Naruto come home yet?" Kushina asked, settling beside her husband.

      "Oh, there he is." Minato nodded toward the door as Naruto walked in. Speak of the devil.

      "Hey, what took you so long?" Kushina asked.

      "Sorry! Y/N-sensei brought us lunch and then stuck around to watch us train. We got carried away," Naruto explained, rubbing the back of his head.

      Minato’s nose twitched. "You smell like… wait. Did you eat Y/n’s signature dish?"

      Naruto blinked. "Yeah? How’d you know?"

      Kushina chuckled. "Everyone knows about it, it’s delicious."

      Minato shook his head with a small laugh. "I remember when you used to bring lunch for my team, Kushina. You always brought ‘Kushina’s Special.’"

      "Well, well, history repeats itself. But I think Y/N’s might be my new competition," Kushina teased.

      —

      Later that night, as the cool summer breeze drifted through the open windows, Kakashi lay on your lap, his head resting against your thigh while the glow of the TV flickered across the room.

      "Y’know," he murmured, "you bringing lunch today felt really nostalgic."

      You absentmindedly ran your fingers through his silver hair. "Really? How so?"

      "Kushina used to do the same for us—me, Obito, and Rin. Watching you with Sasuke today reminded me a lot of how she was with Obito. Almost exactly the same."

      Your eyes widened. "Wait. There was a Kushina’s Special?!" You gasped, suddenly panicking. "Oh my God, what’s wrong with me?! I have to change the name of my recipe! No—no, I have to erase it from existence! Ah—"

      Kakashi grabbed your face, cutting off your meltdown. "Calm down, Y/N. You’re going to wake the entire village."

      "B-but—"

      "She wouldn’t even care that much," he assured you, rolling his eyes.

      You squinted. "You sure?"

      "Positive."

      Letting out a deep sigh, you finally relaxed. "Phew! Almost lost my mind there." You laughed.

      Kakashi just stared at you.

      "Why are you looking at me like that?" you deadpanned before casually shoving him off the couch.

      "H-hey!" He tried to grab onto something—anything—but ultimately failed, landing on the floor with a soft thud.

      He really just tried to grab air. You couldn’t stop laughing.

[vxnillabxn]

hiiii, could i please have some lads men x mute!mc (separate, not poly)? thanks!

𐙚˙⋆.˚ mainfive! x mute gn!reader ꒰੭

𐙚˙⋆.˚ fluff! ꒰੭

𐙚˙⋆.˚ sfw! ꒰੭

𐙚˙⋆.˚ do not translate/copy/repost! ꒰੭

﹙♡﹚thanks for requesting! i did what i could with the little knowledge i have, —and i did some research just to be sure!— because i only know deaf people and i know peruvian sign language, but other than that... i tried my very best ( ˶•ᴖ•) !! sorry for any inaccuracies! also, i had a completely mute reader in mind, hence why i didn't add any additional sounds on their part. hope this is okay! ૮ ྀི◞͈ ˔ ◟͈ ྀིა

𐙚˙⋆.˚ caleb! ꒰੭

﹙♡﹚ever since you two have had use of knowledge, he's always been next to you. that means you know him just as much as he knows you, and the way the two of you communicate has always gone beyond words.

﹙♡﹚he acts as your voice when you ask him to, but he never talks over you, and he makes sure people know exactly what you want to convey —nothing more, nothing less.

﹙♡﹚he definitely knows sign language, both the traditional one and the one you two created when you were kids. it includes lots of silly gestures, and it's easier for you to communicate rather than scribbling things down or using a text-to-speech app.

﹙♡﹚with that said, he definitely keeps all the letters, post-it notes and scribbles you've sent him. even if the notes just read “buy me snacks” or “i'm mad at you, u suck!!!” with bold, crayon letters from when you were a kid, he still treasures them.

﹙♡﹚he keeps them in little boxes or pasted on dozens of diary pages. maybe he'll never be able to recall your voice in his memories, but it doesn't matter to him. he'll always remember you this way, and he finds it even more endearing.

﹙♡﹚he loves your silent laughs. you use your entire body; eyes closed, sharp inhales, body shaking from a laughter that doesn't quite reach his ears…

﹙♡﹚and he loves your gestures, too. there are days you don't even need to sign, or you don't have to write anything down at all. you just look at him, he looks at you, you do a gesture with your brows or softly glance one way, and he'll know what you need.

﹙♡﹚he loves you so much, truly. the lengths this man will go to just for you to always feel heard or seen… gosh, he'll always make sure you feel comfortable expressing yourself however you want to. he'll also make sure people around you don't ever dare to make you feel bad.

﹙♡﹚they don't understand sign language? fine, he'll translate if you ask him to. they don't want to read your notes? they'd better do it, or he'll punch— …he'll make them reconsider.

﹙♡﹚because he wants everyone to know how precious and smart you are, how complex your mind is, and how you always have something to express. so when formerly mean and stupid people suddenly start taking you seriously overnight, it's possible you have a huge guy behind you, tilting his head with a menacing glare.

𐙚˙⋆.˚ rafayel! ꒰੭

﹙♡﹚ah, this man doesn't even notice you can't express yourself with words. why? because you are so expressive; always using your hands, your facial expressions, gesturing… or writing down your thoughts.

﹙♡﹚he absolutely loves looking at you. if you are signing, his eyes are focused on your pretty hands. if you are writing, he admires how you hold the pen or pencil. if you type on a text-to-speech app, he'll watch your face light up by the phone screen.

﹙♡﹚he'll still bicker with you. a lot. you two will go back and forth, with him whining and you furiously writing down or signing back to him. he'll definitely bite back with dramatic flair, so every argument ends up in creative chaos.

﹙♡﹚he once turned off the lights when you were teasing him with hand signs. you duct taped his mouth while he slept that same night. fair game.

﹙♡﹚he forgets to translate for you. when he takes you to grand events, he's so entranced by how you move, how you try to express yourself, that he forgets he actually has to explain to some of the people around you what it is that you're trying to convey.

﹙♡﹚he won't admit it, though, but he likes to keep your thoughts for himself —sometimes. he loves being able to understand you, being able to tell what you want, what you need… and he doesn't want other people to be able to read you the way he does.

﹙♡﹚either way, he'll make sure you feel understood as always, and if you ask him to speak for you, he will.

﹙♡﹚he'll sing for you. he notices you enjoy his voice and nuzzle against him when he hums, so he'll pull you closer, just so he can look at your peaceful face. those quiet moments and lovely gestures are more than enough for him to know you love being close to him as much as he loves being close to you.

﹙♡﹚he still messes up some signs. you tell him he doesn't need to use them, since you can hear him just fine, but he wants to. he wants to feel a different way of expressing himself. after all, he shows what he feels through his paintings, so he wants to feel how you do too, without verbal interaction.

﹙♡﹚he'll probably teach you how to paint too, just so you have yet another way to communicate your thoughts and feelings. and what better way than doing something he'll always be able to understand, and that will be forever portrayed on a canvas for him to admire?

𐙚˙⋆.˚ sylus! ꒰੭

﹙♡﹚i'm convinced he speaks lots of languages, and he knows some basic and specific sign language variations too.

﹙♡﹚he'll be your translator, but only if you explicitly allow him to. if you don't, and you'd rather write down or use a text-to-speech app to communicate by yourself, he'll let you have the spotlight. after all, he loves when you share your smart and pretty mind.

﹙♡﹚he's very protective. overly. if he sees an ounce of impatience or even a brief, patronizing, seemingly insignificant gesture from someone you're communicating with, his gaze will darken.

﹙♡﹚can't they see you're expressing yourself just like anyone else? though, you're not like any other person. you're his love, the most special gem in the entire world. they will understand you, and they must pay attention to you. or else.

﹙♡﹚he is always looking at you. no matter if you're close or far, if you're sleeping or turning your back on him. he's attentive, he's ready for you to address him, ready to interpret your signs, to read your notes, to notice your body language.

﹙♡﹚he makes everything easier for you, too. not because he thinks you can't solve things by yourself, but because he wants to spoil you. plus, it is convenient (he gifted you a bell you can ring whenever you want him near).

﹙♡﹚he always comes to you upon the bell's jingling. you might as well ask him to dress up as a butler, but don't test your luck. you might end up wearing the bell around your neck instead, like a cute kitten.

﹙♡﹚he'll also have mephisto follow you around. nothing new, really. he just wants to ensure you feel okay, that your day is going smoothly, that no one is being unnecessarily rude to you, and if you require his assistance for anything at all.

﹙♡﹚he'll whisper sweet nothings to you every night. he'll remind you how your silence doesn't make you small, how you should always express yourself if you feel like it, how he loves when you share your ideas with him.

﹙♡﹚if someone isn't able to appreciate you, they aren't worth your time. at all. he'll pepper your face with kisses until you fall asleep; each kiss for each day he promises to take care of you and make sure you feel more than enough. because you are.

𐙚˙⋆.˚ xavier! ꒰੭

﹙♡﹚sweet baby takes his time learning sign language for you, because he sees how much better you express yourself rather than having to write or type it down.

﹙♡﹚he struggles at first, but he surprises you by signing “i love you.” he earns tons of kisses after that.

﹙♡﹚even when you can hear his voice, he still rather uses sign language. why? he's too lazy to speak.

﹙♡﹚...sike. in reality, he just loves the idea of sharing something with you, and he loves the way you sign his name, or when you sign cute things just to get him flustered. he thinks it's like a cute, secret way of communicating between you two.

﹙♡﹚he also finds it a bit funny how you leave post-it notes all around the house for him so he won't forget something you already told him, like buying a specific snack or going to the supermarket to bring you something.

﹙♡﹚that, or when you surprised him by using a text-to-speech app, setting a deep, funny voice to tell him “you're so hot haha," followed by a "would you still love me if i was a nuclear-bomb-shaped green, fuzzy worm?" sigh.

﹙♡﹚he buys you different sets of notebooks, each for a different purpose. the red one is for when you wish to complain. the pink one is for when you want to tell him something cute. the green one is for funny jokes you can't exactly sign, but still want them to be funny, so you write them down.

﹙♡﹚after all, there's only so much you can sign, and you know he'll understand words better, so his idea isn't useless. besides, he gets to keep them as treasures, even when you write nasty things when he messes up. he'll keep them in mind to improve, though.

﹙♡﹚sometimes, you feel exhausted, and he notices you don't even feel like writing down complex thoughts or trying to sign them, either. those days, he'll just silently hold you, reminding you that he's there, and he'll always be; whether you need him to step in, or you just need him to support you from the sidelines.

﹙♡﹚he is still getting used to all your different expressions and gestures, but he's thrilled every time he gets one right, even if it seems silly to you. he wants to be the bestest boyfriend on earth, so he'll quietly study you —while also admiring how effortlessly precious you are.

𐙚˙⋆.˚ zayne! ꒰੭

﹙♡﹚he definitely knows sign language. at least three variations, if not more. he understands when you use them, and he'll either answer orally or by signing back to you.

﹙♡﹚his signs are always polished and clear, his slender fingers making it easier… you could literally just stare at him as he both signs and talks to you.

﹙♡﹚he's too perceptive. he'll notice your gestures, no matter if they are subtle or if you try to hide them. he'll notice how you feel, and he'll be able to tell if you feel discomfort, boredom, or anything else he can change or fix for you.

﹙♡﹚you two develop a secret code full of soft gestures, little taps, tender touches, or even some nuzzles here and there; each one with a different meaning. he knows it is hard to express exactly what you want, especially when you're in a public setting with people who might understand your signs or read your notes, so your secret code will always be a safe option.

﹙♡﹚and he absolutely loves those loving gestures, too. so he's more than happy to use them when words aren't needed.

﹙♡﹚he notices that you love when he talks, so he'll read for you at night, he'll hum softly in the privacy of your shared bedroom, and he'll quietly explain some medical texts just to soothe you.

﹙♡﹚feeling his voice echoing against his chest, and hearing his heartbeat, is an absolute bliss for you, and you'll make sure to let him know how thankful you are with loving gazes and traces on his arms.

﹙♡﹚he definitely makes his medical team take sign language classes. not only because of you —though you're the main focus— but because it is a must. in fact, everyone should learn at least the basics. even when you can hear, he wants people to understand you.

﹙♡﹚he also prepares sweet surprises for you. for instance, he took you to your favorite café and the already familiar employee greeted you in sign language. zayne made sure they knew how to, since it would put a smile on your face. and it did. it was sweeter than the desserts you shared that day.

﹙♡﹚he lets you express yourself freely. he waits until you finish rambling in whatever method you choose, and he'll pause everything he's doing just to pay attention to you. you're the most precious person in his life, so naturally, everything that comes out of you is extremely important and urgent.

[distuff]

ahhhh thank you for writing such beautiful work...

baby when the reader gets pissed at him for saying something mean during a fight, so she ignores him? AND not only ignores him but chooses to spend an abnormal amount of time with Jinu/any other (Jinu cause the tiger and the bird) saja boy to rant about how obnoxious baby is and stubbornly refuses to interact with baby? and baby just going nuts because what do you mean he's getting ignored? (and maybe abby and romance trying to help him figure out why reader is pissed and get him to swallow his pride and apolgize?)

Answer: Oh my- I actually had fun exploring this dynamic ngl khahaha! You my dear readershi are also gettin' a renewed author (la mOi, obviously) who is more confident in my vers of the boyz. Gotta thank all the support (my beloved anons/ askers, taggers ( I see you @sleepylion ! ), commenters and even those who are silent enjoyers ) who showed support on stories I was unsure of. sO ! Pls, enjoy~ ( = ⩊ = )

Note. Please ! Do not take anything here seriously. These are my versions of the boyz where I'm tryin' to figure out their character through these prompts and make em react as canon as possible. Nothing in here is aimed at anyone just a faceless MC whose traits are created around the prompt. Arigatou ( _ _)人

📍Requests: Please check HERE

📌 POTENTIAL CONTINUATIONS FROM MY DARLINGS  + Yuichi-cat

꒷꒦︶꒷꒦︶ ๋ ࣭ ⭑꒷꒦

Baby SAJA: Apology?

Featuring: Baby Saja Reader: female

It was a rainy night. The rain tapped gently against the windows, and dark clouds covered what few stars were ever visible—even on clear nights.

Their studio sat on the highest floor, close to the heavens, yet Jinu could rarely see more than two faint stars, even on a good day.

The only “stars” around were the distant lights from neighbouring buildings, all of them standing a few floors lower than the building their company had chosen for them.

It always reminded Jinu of a story Mystery had once told him—something about humans trying to build a spiralling tower to reach the heavens, only to be cursed by the very god they were climbing toward to.

Babilion? Bubilion? Tower of Bebil? He couldn’t remember the name. Never cared to. It was the idea that stuck with him.

Seems like that desire never left them, he always thought. Whether humans realised it or not, they always craved more.

Speaking of humans and their insatiable wants—

"Can you believe that smug—ugh!"

Jinu turned slowly from his desk to face you. You were pacing his room, eyebrows furrowed, hands flailing like you were about to strangle someone.

He let out a soft sigh and dropped the pen in his hand, casually covering the card he’d been working on. A loud, pink bird with spindly legs danced beneath the text Let’s Get Flocked Up!!—whatever that meant. It looked like a poorly drawn phoenix in his opinion.

He’d ask the phone to identify the bird, but for some reason you decided he was good for whatever conversation you were trying to have with him.

Jinu would shrug your words off and let you talk to yourself in hopes of you having some devine realisation, but he couldn’t risk drawing your attention to what he was writing. That would lead to questions. And Jinu was terrible at dodging questions. Which would only made him more suspicious.

Just thinking about Mystery giving him signs he was beginning to suspect Jinu of something made him wince.

So instead of kicking you out—which would only make things worse—jumping out the window, which wouldn’t solve anything—or trying to change the subject, which your expression made clear you weren’t going to let happen, Jinu gave in.

He dropped his arm over the card and leaned back in his chair, eyes flicking over to you with resigned sigh.

"Alright, I bite. What did you do?" he asked flatly. He didn’t even bother pretending to care.

Where were Romance or Abby when he needed them? What possessed you to bring this kind of thing to him? Not questions he voiced, of course. The carpet was white, and he had no intention of getting blood on it. No, thank you.

That, he quickly realised, was also the wrong question to ask.

You stopped pacing and turned to him slowly, glare sharp enough to make him consider jumping out of the window did actually sounded quiet helpful for this situation.

If human looks could kill demons, Jinu was pretty sure he’d be dead already. Moments like these reminded him why he appreciated your honmoon wave being bright crimson for more than easy snack. At least it didn't tried burning him while you were clearly distress.

And under all that curled one single feeling that most demon's would salivate at.

Hurt.

Funny, he thought dryly, how wrath is just crushed expectation throwing a tantrum.

You pointed at yourself, incredulous. “Me?” you repeated. “Me?! What I did—? I didn’t do anything!” you shouted, and Jinu winced, pressing his hand to his left ear.

You were off again, pacing as your frustration and sadness poured out.

“It’s him who can’t see past himself! He can’t shut up long enough to listen or—or understand that what he says hurts!”

Your voice cracked as your frustration pushed through. “It’s like I don’t even exist to him. Like I’m just… here. I expect something. Anything to show I’m not the only one who cares in this relationship!”

Your eyes were starting to glaze over. The shine of unshed tears formed as your honmoon line pulsed with that bitter sadness Jinu hated to taste but his body craved anyway.

Too bad he already ate tonight. No excuse to feed off you now.

Which meant, unfortunately, he had to listen.

He sighed again, bracing himself, and opened his mouth—fully prepared to be the voice of reason you’d ignore anyway, in the hope that maybe, just maybe, you’d use your last brain cell to hear what he had to say.

"Alright," he said calmly, his voice instantly drawing your attention. You stopped pacing, staring at him with that same look—expecting something. Jinu had to stop himself from shaking his head.

Expectations, were formed around the false believes one had about themself, fueled by the fear of unknown, they only built blueprints for reactions, and always ended in disappointment. Humans never learn, he thought with a quiet sigh. Funny how becoming a demon gave him the clarity to spot flaws he never noticed as a human—flaws now repeating in front of him like clockwork.

It was as if the behaviour had been coded into the human DNA.

No matter. Lifting his head—which he hadn’t realised had dipped—Jinu met your eyes. You’d calmed enough to sit on the edge of his bed, your attention fixed solely on him.

"I mean, this might sound crazy," Jinu began, his tone light as he straightened up, rolling his shoulders. "But did you consider—just maybe—that Baby is a demon?" His hands gestured to you like he was making a groundbreaking point, his face marked by exaggerated innocence.

The sound of Tiger rising from where he’d been lying beside the bed draw both yours and his attention to the spirit—giving you a pause from the conversation as the two of you watched it quietly prowling over to you with steady steps.

Its amber eyes didn’t blink as he stared at you—curious, and clearly reading the cocktail of emotion your body radiated. That, and shielding Jinu from your honmoon wave to give him a moment to breathe.

Magpie, on the other hand, looked wholly unimpressed. It blinked slowly between the two of you, flicking its head toward Jinu as if to say, Want a shovel to dig your grave deeper?

Jinu would have a full blown conversation with that ungrateful chicken if his attention wasn't stolen by your following words.

"Yeah, and?" you replied flatly, starting to pat Tiger without looking at Jinu. The spirit stood still, purring faintly, though it didn’t break his stare.

It was a stupid question. Jinu was going to say that aloud—but thankfully your voice cut through before he could.

"You're also a demon, and you're showing a clear interest in Rumi-nim." You met his eyes with a deadpan stare that made his spine tighten. His gaze flicked, involuntarily, toward the greeting card on the desk. Don’t look at it, don’t look at it, don’t look at it!

"I—I mean, as a fellow idol, it’s natural to be... cordial—"

But again, you cut him off, turning away as you focused on Tiger. Jinu stiffened, eyes falling on Magpie who continued preening its feathers with Tiger’s stolen hat, completely ignoring his discomfort.

"As a 'fellow idol', you owe her polite interactions and the occasional mention on your lives," you said, eyes locking with his again. "You’re doing more than that."

Jinu felt cornered. Accused of something he couldn’t explain to you. His brows knit as he leaned forward, elbows on his knees.

"Alright. And if I am—what of it? Doesn’t change how Baby behaves, does it?" His voice was flat.

He regretted it the moment the words left his mouth.

You froze mid-pat, inhaling sharply. Your posture turned rigid—but thankfully, being in contact with Tiger meant you were also being bathed in his calming aura. Instead of shouting or throwing something, you spoke through a strained breath,

"It does. If you can act like Rumi-nim matters, then so can Baby."

Jinu had to resist the urge to groan, roll his eyes, and laugh into his palm. Of course. Of course. That was how you saw it.

You thought he was being “attentive.” You assumed that meant some grand revelation. Maybe you thought his "heart" was changing, that he was maybe starting to think differently about humans.

But no—he was just using Rumi. She was a means to an end: the path to reclaiming his soul from Gwi-ma. If satisfying the Demon King meant playing the role of a human idol—luring in as many souls as possible with the hope that it might make the King more willing to return his one meek, pitiful soul—then so be it.

And yet, just the thought of what Rumi might feel—what her soul line would pulse with if she ever found out—made his hollow chest tighten as he wondered what emotion she'll willingly feed him once she finds out what his real goal was.

It wasn't even a betrayal… it was Rumi's naive nature to trust something with no soul. Just like you with Baby... Rumi had created unrealistic expectations of him too.

Still, none of this was something he could say to you. He couldn’t tell you that he wasn’t any better than Baby.

The fact that you even knew they were demons was already crossing a line. They couldn’t offer you anything more than this simply because it could jeopardize what they have build.

Humans were fickle like that.

With a long, drawn-out sigh, Jinu let his hand settle over his mouth, trying to string together a sentence that would sound coherent enough to explain the situation from Baby's point of view.

Jinu's eyes flicked to you as you continued to pat Tiger, who still stood unmoving at your side. Both spirit animals focused on him—Tiger clearly anticipating the greeting card meant for Rumi, while Magpie looked far too smug for Jinu’s liking.

"How to put it..." Jinu muttered, gesturing for Tiger to come closer. The spirit prowled forward with deliberate slowness, unblinking eyes locked on him. Magpie, in contrast, glided down next to you, probably in some noble attempt to keep your nerves from fraying any further.

You trailed your eyes after Tiger, the stress and fatigue bleeding into your gaze, but then you gently started to trace a finger down Magpie’s spine. Jinu noticed that at least the tightness in your shoulders eased slightly.

“Well, I don’t know exactly what he said,” Jinu admitted as he folded the greeting card, keeping his tone even. “But there’s a high possibility that he just… bluntly said what he though at the time.”

He pressed his lips together. Tiger tilted his massive head to the side, bulbous eyes looking through him, clearly thinking: You're a fool

Not like Jinu needed reminding that he was probably making things worse. But sue him—he didn’t know what you expected him to say.

If he lied, you’d just march back to Baby, and that little bastard would crush all the soft hope Jinu managed to build with some sugary words. So all he could really do was try to soften the truth on Baby’s behalf.

Why can’t she go to Romance or Abby~ he whined internally, rolling his eyes as he turned, greeting card in hand.

With a flick of his wrist, he offered it to Tiger, who obligingly opened his mouth and rolled out his tongue. Jinu placed the folded card atop it with a sigh. No point hiding what you were clearly already aware of. Hopefully, you had some sense to keep it to yourself.

He gave you a sidelong, sceptical look, but it fall off when he caught the quiet way your body had curled in on itself. You were gently stroking Magpie’s feathers, your expression unreadable, but distant.

Jinu exhaled, placing a hand under Tiger’s jaw and gently guiding it shut, patting twice to signal the spirit to deliver the card to the purple-haired huntress. Then he turned back to you with a bit more urgency in his voice.

“Alright then. What do you want Baby to do?”

Maybe—maybe—he could actually get the brat to play along for once, just to calm you down. ...Maybe.

“Apology,” you said flatly, your eyes locking with his, hard as steel.

Jinu blinked.

And then— —he lost it.

He toppled sideways with a choked wheeze, clutching his stomach as laughter wracked his frame. Just the image of Baby apologising was absurd. Utterly beyond imagination.

Handing a cat a Bible and asking it to lead Sunday mass had higher success rate than Baby apologising. The young demon would no doubt look at him like he’d grown three heads before confidently diagnosing him as clinically insane.

As Jinu laughed himself breathless, he didn’t even register Tiger and Magpie slinking away. What he did notice was your now-throbbing honmoon wave, no longer behind the barrier, and radiating frustration.

Honestly, he was just impressed you were still this emotionally attached to the SAJA after what Baby had put you through. Wiping an invisible tear from his eye, Jinu sat up and met your glare head-on.

Arms crossed, expression locked down tight—you were not amused.

“Mind explaining what’s so funny about that?” you asked, voice dangerously calm.

He opened his mouth—and an involuntary snort escaped. Seeing your irritation bubble, he straightened quickly and cleared his throat.

“Well... you see,” he began, in the universal tone of a man about to say something you wouldn’t like.

“Uh-huh,” you prompted flatly.

“Apologising means the person believes they did something wrong,” Jinu continued, choosing his words carefully. “And I can very confidently tell you that Baby—”

- - -

“I don’t even know what I did wrong,” Baby groaned, fisting his hair as he stared down at the dark carpet of his room like it held all the answers to this frustrating and frankly uncalled for situation.

The constant pitter-patter of raindrops against the windows wasn’t helping. It only made Baby’s fingers twitch harder, itching to tear into something that would resist—something he could press against until it ripped.

Irritation, mixed with fury? Check. But only because you, for some incomprehensible reason, had to go and get upset over words. Characters.

Honest to Gwi-ma—invisible, untouchable things that just poured out of someone’s mouth. How could anyone get hurt by that? If you wanted pain, Baby could show you exactly what he did to humans who fought back during his feeding.

And yet... there was bitterness too. A hollow ache clinging under his skin. It made his jaw itch to sink into your honmoon and just roll in it.

He didn’t mind emotions—he wasn’t a picky eater—but fury? That tasted stale. Always just a layer for hurt, and hurt was the sweetly bitter flavour he never turned away from.

But when that hurt was tangled with anger, it tasted like a dessert coated in mould.

And now, with you still inside the apartment—your honmoon wave loud and heavy—it was impossible to ignore. He couldn’t take it anymore. So he dragged the closest brother of his with him to his room: Romance.

As they passed Abby, the other had to be grabbed by Romance by the back of his shirt just like Baby did to him as he could hear Abby curiously ask, “Oh? Where we goin’?”

Now, the two of them were seated on the bed in Baby's room, listening as he explained what had happened—though “explaining” was generous.

More like pacing in circles and hissing between clenched teeth as he began mentally debating whether licking bleach would soothe the sting in his mouth or if petting your honmoon would be more effective albeit risky with the state you were in.

Kicking you out would only make things worse. He knew that much.

His eyes finally left the carpet when Romance let out a long sigh—the kind that sounded straight out of one of Mystery’s dramas, complete with the tone of a tired, exasperated mother. He crossed one leg over the other, that dreamy smile curling over his lips.

“Aah, one has to admire humans for their shameless displays of selfishness.”

Baby shot him a sceptical look, hands finally dropping from his tangled hair. Why didn't I gone to Mystery instead?

Before he could voice the thought, Romance continued, voice light and knowing. “But it’s easy to understand what your human wants, my sweet little junior.”

“Call me that again and I’ll put that vanishing ability of yours to the test—”

“Mm, always so charming,” Romance said, waving him off as he leaned back, supporting himself on his arms. He locked eyes with Baby and smirked. “She’s dissatisfied~ You’re not giving her what she wants. Touches. Attention. Acts that make her feel special.”

He fluttered his lashes dramatically. Baby rolled his eyes, straightened, and arched a brow.

“Not everyone can act like you, shitty senior.”

Romance beamed. “Not as good, but they can try!” he chirped, holding up a finger like he was announcing a divine truth.

Baby exhaled hard, shaking his head. Then both he and Romance looked to Abby, once the other spoke, “If it’s so much hassle, why’d you even bother starting something with her?” Abby tilted his head, expression completely genuine.

They stared and he blinked back at them with the slow confusion of a dog not understanding another creatures speech.

Romance bit his bottom lip, visibly entertained, and reached over to pat Abby on the head. Abby blinked, but let him.

Baby, however, just stared at his so called senior like he’d said the most ridiculous thing in all of world's history.

“Oh, I don’t know,” Baby said dryly, narrowing his eyes. “Maybe because Jinu told me to accept her confession?”

Abby raised a brow while Romance, now fussing with his hair, didn’t even look surprised. Of course he knew. He had a habit of sticking his nose where it didn’t belong—especially the first time Baby had brought you home.

Abby, meanwhile, had just treated you like a living chocolate fountain he could snack on whenever you were around.

“Since when do you listen to anyone?” Abby asked, genuinely baffled.

Romance snorted and sat up proudly with hands on his hips, satisfied with his perfectly fixed hair. “Don’t worry,” he said with a laugh. “Baby didn’t hit his head. He only agreed because Jinu promised he could skip seven shows of his choice.”

That made Abby let out a long, exaggerated “Aaaaaaah!”—right before freezing and clamping his mouth shut. His eyes flicked back to Baby, confused again.

When is he not confused? Baby thought, already bracing himself as Abby opened his mouth to ask another question.

“But that still doesn’t explain… why you’re tolerating it.”

That gave Baby pause. He blinked, caught off-guard. He hadn't expected that level of insight from Abby of all beings.

Romance, on the other hand, didn’t even look surprised. He simply turned his attention from his hair to Baby, eyes glinting with curiosity, waiting, alongside Abby, for his answer.

They looked like those humans from that movie they watched “Dumb and Dumber.” Fantastic.

Baby sighed. Why does it even matter? But he gave a blunt reply anyway.

“Her soul helps suppress my hunger. I figured if I’m being forced to play pretend, I might as well get something out of it.”

He’d noticed it early on—whenever you were near, the gnawing void in his chest dulled slightly, tricking his instincts into thinking it was getting a full meal.

There was also another benefit to this bravado. As long as you didn’t try comforting him with words when Gwi-ma turned his skull into a private arcade, your touch was... grounding.

Of course, none of that was something he’d ever admit to these two jackals. And yet, even with the bare scraps he’d given them, both Romance and Abby were already grinning like they’d cracked some forbidden code. Jackasses.

The look they exchanged told Baby everything: Silence was the only safe option around these two, truly.

Why can’t they be this creative with the mission? he thought, mildly annoyed as his body instinctively tensed. He leaned back, away from Abby, who now wore a smirk that practically screamed bait.

“Well, that makes sense,” Abby drawled, eyes still on Romance as if Baby wasn’t even there. “Baby needs a pacifier during the day to keep calm.”

Romance nodded sagely, finger pressed under his chin like he was seriously contemplating Abby's words rather than suppressing a grin.

“Pacifiers do have the ability to keep Baby's nasty little temper in check, mm?”

At that, Abby flashed his sharp canines with a pointed look, practically daring Baby to lunge.

Baby knew they could’ve easily been referring to that snivelling pile of human meat that never stopped crying—but the words could also be taken another way. One that he knew was the correct one. He could feel his human glamour fading just slightly. Faint demon markings crept along his cheekbones, his own fangs peeking out as his claws dug into his palms.

His lips, darker now with a lack of oxygen, parted as he exhaled. And then he spoke—voice low, gravelly, and deadly calm.

“If I could… without alerting those three bitches to where we are… I’d slash every inch of your body, bit by bit, scatter the pieces across Korea, and watch your head roll around trying to put yourself back together.”

Yet instead of getting the reaction he wanted, Baby watched with half-lidded eyes and an involuntary twitch in his brow as Romance let out a delighted coo. Hands clasped together, the older demon gazed at him as if Baby hadn’t just threatened someone ranked above him. Worse, Romance even went and stretch out his hand, finger aimed at Baby’s nose for a little boop, and chirped, “Cute.”

Baby’s eye twitched.

And to make matters worse, Abby—arms crossed, muscles bulging in that infuriating way he knew was deliberate—wore the smuggest grin as he added in a teasing tone, “Can’t bring yourself to get fully rid of me? You must truly love me. Oh, I can just feel how much you care for me! ” He let out an exaggerated wail, swiping an invisible tear from under one eye and clutching the wrong side of his chest—the side where a heart wouldn’t be, even if he were human.

“Alright then,” Baby growled lowly.

His glamour frayed further as he rolled up his sweater sleeves, a malicious grin cutting across his face. His small tusks peeked from under his top lip, canines gleaming, and purple flames began licking off his skin. The pressure in his skull surged as Gwi-ma stirred, laughing in pure euphoria, egging him on with a hungry rasp: “C̶̛̩͈̋͑̎̽̈́l̵̲̥̫͚̳̞̗͒̊̽͘͝a̷̯͕̲̰̖̟̦͊͝w̵̛̬̱̦̻̟͗̄̄̋͜s̴̢̞̺̮͖͇̽͋̍͆̈́̔̍͂ ̴͉̯͕̹̞͖͈̈́͐̿̓̍̏̾͒t̷̡̢͉̖̠̺̺̝͗͊̐͛͒͠͠h̴̲̼̞̥̲̖͍͒͗͑̽̕r̸̙̘̟͍̺̟̲̱̋͑͒̿̇̒̚ơ̸̬̿̌̍͋́͗ų̴̘̟̤́̓͌̍̓͗g̶̠̝͍͈̼̦͕͐͋̅̋̀̈́h̵̛͇͗̏͋̄̍̈́̕ ̷̬̯̯̲̞̐̔̿̓̍͘͝͠t̵̺̖̩̦̳͖̯̜̉̈́̅̈́̚h̴̰̬͈͚̠̲̋̈́͗̽́͘͠ͅe̵̢͚̞̦̱̘̅͒̾̒̿͛͐͑͜ ̶̢͍̗̖͇̺͌̅͊̽͛͌̚c̶̳̤̞͈̬̩̬̐̄͜h̷̼̜̳͓̦̳̙̤̿͐̓̋͠e̵͖̰̰̲̼͕̅́̑̓͒̚͜s̷̢̢̱͖̠͓̈́̎̐̿͝t̶̛̤̖̬̟̮͌͂͠͝͝—̵̢̥͕̦̤͇̖̘̀̓̓̍̇̀͛̚s̷̘̱̼̋̈́̏͛̏̔͂͘l̴̞̮̱̞̬̩̏̈́o̵̠͎̤̮̥̫̔̈́̇́͝w̶̛̮̼̺͓͚̄̀̆͋͘͝ͅ ̴͇͎͍̖͓̒̅́͊̔͝͝a̴͖͓̰̳̲̞̍̒̎͗͊̕͘͜n̶̩̯͓͛͝d̸̹̮̟̰̺̼͈̏̏̽̾̏̀̕ ̵̻̯̥̞̺̪̙́́͛̑̽͝p̵̬̘̖̳̥̐̈́͊̚̚ͅa̵̢̨͖͇͈̲͐̈́ͅi̸̘̲͎͓͇͐͗̇͋̔̓̍͝n̷̙̟̙̮͑̍̓̿͆̅́ͅf̴̘̯͔̳̺͓͚̐̈́̇́̾͘ū̵̘̬̠͎̫͇̔̿̚l̵̢̢̺͚̜͇̐̽̐̐̎͘ͅ!”

Visions flickered across Baby’s mind, dizzying flashes of how to use abelites he didn't even knew possible—and for a moment, his vision blurred as he shook his head to fight it off.

He barely registered Abby’s widening grin as the older demon cracked his neck, clearly eager for the brawl. But before either of them could move—

They froze.

The air didn’t grow heavy like it did when Mystery was done tolerating their idiocy. No, it grew light. Too light.

Disorientingly so, like a false calm before something sharp breaks through. Baby almost wanted to laugh and flip Gwi-ma the middle finger as he felt his Lord disappear with furies thrashing before leaving Baby's head empty.

Only Romances aura was capable of submerging the demon King. He may not know the real reason, but he has a theory. Unlike the others, Romance never flooded them with his demonic presence like Mystery.

He let it slither—wrap and squeeze. It wasn’t choking—it was holding, threatening to shatter them from the inside if they so much as twitched. Baby felt it keenly in the way his ribs ached and his core pulled taut. And judging by the way Abby’s eyes widened beside him, he felt it too.

It didn’t help that Romance was older than both of them. Which made the subtle restraint feel effortless—unavoidable.

Baby knew, logically, that Romance didn’t have the kind of power that could cancel their regeneration. But it didn’t matter. The illusion—the intoxication—was enough to press every instinct into submission. He let out a slow breath, reluctantly pulling the frayed edges of his human disguise back into place, a silent show of compliance.

Only then did Romance smile wider, bringing his hands together with a gentle clap before easing off. As the pressure lifted, both Baby and Abby exhaled sharply, shoulders loosening.

Their eyes met.

A silent nod passed between them. Later.

If Romance noticed, he chose to ignore it. After all, what came later wouldn’t be his problem. Instead, he steered the conversation back to its original course, locking his brilliant eyes onto Baby’s with a quiet sort of focus.

“So?” Romance asked, folding his hands over his crossed legs. A lock of hair curled against his cheek as he tilted his head, flawless as always, voice soft with curiosity. “What are you planning to do, then?”

Great question. A slow smirk curved across Baby’s lips as he cracked his knuckles.

Now that the banter cooled him down and the storm of your emotions from your wave was drowned out by Abby’s demonic aura—still pulsing faintly from when he’d nearly launched himself at Baby—his head was clearer than it had been in days.

“Easy. Kill ’em.” He said it flatly.

Sure, he’d lose his easy snack. The occasional grounding effect you gave him when Gwi-ma got especially insufferable. Those moments when you simply enjoyed yourself without demanding anything, letting him exist without expectation. Moments when your happiness spread through him, and he did enjoy himself—those would vanish too.

But in return, he’d get back something far more valuable: the freedom to just be himself.

No more forcing conversation. No more awkward attempts to explain things you could’ve asked about without sounding like a guilt-ridden martyr. And that constant, nagging feeling—like you were trying to make him feel bad for you.

How? Baby always wanted to ask. He didn’t feel anything unless you did first. And when you were caught in that swirling mess of insecurity and longing, it made him want nothing more than to rip your soul out and consume it just to silence the white noise in his head.

So yes—pros outweighed the cons. Any day of the week.

And hey, maybe you'd finally find someone who was your actual match.

His words had barely finished leaving his mouth before Abby choked on his saliva, then cackled hysterically—head thrown back, heels of his feet thudding on the floor. Romance winced, pressing a manicured hand to his chest as if personally wounded, eyes flicking to Baby’s deadpan expression.

“Please don’t,” he said, shaking his head. “Your kills are always so... messy.” His nose crinkled as he pulled a face of exaggerated distaste.

Baby crossed his arms and raised a brow at him. “Alright then. What should I do instead?” His tone was bored, but he was listening.

That was all it took. Romance perked up immediately, and just as Abby’s laughter began to taper off, they both blurted out two completely different responses at once:

“Suck ’em dry,” Abby grinned.

“Apologise,” Romance said at the exact same time.

Baby blinked, owlishly at first, then narrowed his eyes with growing scepticism—just as both Romance and Abby snapped their heads towards each other, startled.

For a brief moment, Baby swore the two of them were having a full telepathic conversation. Then, without a word, they nodded in perfect synchrony.

Romance turned back to him, casually, while Baby—still with arms crossed—had leaned down slightly, watching the pair with thinly veiled disbelief, scanning between them for any trace of logic. Naturally, he found none.

Romance shrugged. “Calm her down by apologising. Then devour her. No soul ever tastes good angry.”

Huh. Baby straightened up, expression easing as he nodded slowly. Romance had a point. Even if Baby wasn’t picky, it was common demonic knowledge that rage-flavoured souls only appealed to a rare few with weird palates.

Before he could open his mouth to agree, a soft click broke the moment.

The doorknob to his room twisted, the door creaking open. All three snapped their attention to it, wide-eyed—no doubt looking like startled hares caught in torchlight.

Baby didn’t know who to expect. But it definitely wasn’t Mystery, half-visible behind the slowly opening door.

He blinked. His spine snapped upright as his usually droopy eyes widened into doe-like. Romance, unfazed, lifted a hand in a pleasant wave. Abby grinned like a proud idiot for some reason.

While Baby continued to stare at Mystery as if the man didn’t live under the same roof, it was Romance who broke the silence.

“What are you doing here senior?” he asked, smiling, his tone laced with genuine curiosity.

Mystery stood motionless, one hand still on the doorknob. They couldn’t see his eyes, but Baby had the creeping suspicion the eldest had blinked once before speaking, voice as soft and chilling as ever.

“I was told to come... by him,” he replied coolly, raising two perfectly shaped fingers to point directly at Abby—who only grinned wider.

That snapped Baby out of his daze. He flinched slightly, turning sharply as Romance—seated next to Abby—did the same.

“Why?” Romance asked with a calm tilt of his brow, voicing what Baby had been about to bark out himself.

Abby looked far too pleased with himself, arms crossed over his chest like a smug lion. “Since Baby was being dramatic, it had to be important. So I figured Mystery would be perfect for solving it! While Baby was yapping and growling, I texted Mystery to come over.”

He said it like it was the most obvious, brilliant solution in the world.

Romance and Baby both gawked at him. Abby didn’t seem to notice. He turned back to Mystery—who remained standing in the doorway like a weathered statue—completely unreadable.

“What took you so long, old man?”

That was usually the kind of thing no one dared to say to Mystery—ranked as he was, not to mention his power—but Abby lacked the instinct for self-preservation. Always had.

Mystery, for his part, didn’t react in the slightest. He merely responded with a quiet, clinical jab, “Saw your name.”

Baby snorted, lips twitching into a grin. Romance chuckled softly behind his hand. Abby, oblivious, beamed.

“Ah! Still learning how to open the magical boxes in the phone?” he asked brightly, already launching into a pointless explanation. “You just gotta—”

Mystery stepped back without a word, shutting the door slowly.

That alone pulled Baby back into focus.

Wait. Abby might’ve actually been on to something.

And Mystery did have the most functioning brain cells out of anyone here. That alone made him worth listening to.

Baby stepped forward slightly, expression softening again, a rare earnestness in his voice. “Would Mystery-nim consider... having a moment still?”

For once, there was no sass or smugness behind it. Just a sincere question—he wanted to hear what his senior had to say.

A silence followed. Romance and Abby glanced between the two, waiting.

Mystery didn’t move right away. He remained still in the hallway, back to them. Baby couldn’t feel nervous, that was taken together with his soul by Gwi-ma. Baby could only stand quietly, watching, waiting for a respond to react to.

Finally, Mystery turned his head just enough to face him. Though his eyes were covered, his aura gave a brief flicker of contemplation. Then, he finally gave a short nod.

With a shift of his shoulders, Mystery stepped inside, closing the door gently behind him. He stood inside the room, saying nothing—but making it clear he was waiting for Baby to explain the issue.

Baby didn’t waste a second.

He launched back into the explanation—this time without the growls, or slipping into demonic dialect that made Romance and Abby squint or read his aura like a weathered text. Now, it was just words. Clear, sharp, and finally spoken with some composure.

Once the full story was out, the room fell quiet.

Mystery hadn’t moved from where he first stationed himself, still standing near the door. The only change was the tilt of his head—chin lowered as he absorbed Baby’s words in full silently but most importantly thoroughly.

The three waited, clearly too eager despite trying not to show it.

Finally, Mystery straightened. He turned his head towards Baby. The attention made his fingers twitched slightly, resisting the urge to clap like an overeager child. Instead, he sharpened, silent, listening with his full focus.

“Humans are needy creatures,” Mystery began in his cool, steady tone—echoing Romance’s earlier words—before continuing without pause. “You should have taken that into account before letting Jinu sway you.”

Ah. Baby’s eyes flicked to the side.

It wasn’t a reprimand, exactly—Mystery wasn’t one for scolding—but the truth stung all the same. That was the reminder. Baby had been just as selfish as you, and this? This was the cost of that.

Fair. His eyes dropped to the carpet, shoulders heavy as Mystery’s voice carried on, calm and unbothered.

“However,” he said, “she is not one to leave.”

That snapped Baby’s head up. Mystery continued, head tilting slightly, fringe shifting, though never revealing the sharp briliant eyes hidden behind. “So... even if the two of you had a mindless argument over a foolish disagreement—which, I agree, could’ve been handled more peacefully if she wasn't blinded by her lack of self-worth—she’ll return. Even if you give her space and don’t speak to her.”

Baby grimaced, subtly. That didn’t help.

It wasn’t that he disliked the idea of keeping your cooling wave around... It was the thought of you returning anyway. Coming back while still expecting something from him he visibly couldn’t give.

But Mystery, unfazed, didn’t pause.

He lifted his chin to glance at the ceiling. “Of course, humans are fickle. So if she does surprise us and doesn’t return—worst-case scenario—she may attempt to damage your name. And, by extension, SAJA’s name. On those human gathering zones—”

“Socials, senior,” Romance cut in, smiling as he gently corrected.

Mystery paused only to nod, then continued, barely missing a beat. “...‘Socials’,” he echoed, as if the word were a foreign incantation. “The humans under the company that manage our images and interactions on those... 'Socials', would easily turn the narrative. She’d be painted as overbearing. You, as the wounded victim.”

He turned his face back toward Baby, cool and direct.

“That way, Jinu still gets the attention he wanted from the relationship,” he said plainly. “And you—get your ‘time’ back.”

Mystery finished with the same calm he always carried. He offered no emotional comfort, no praise—only clean-cut logic and resolution, as if he were stating a weather report.

The lack of him commenting on you potentially revealing they were demons spoke volumes too. No one would believe you and even spin it into one of those wild theories that would just give SAJA more attention through the content the humans would spin out of it.

Romance gave an approving clap, fingers snapping in a polished, regal manner. “Brilliant, as always.”

Abby just groaned, dragging his hands down his face. “Too many turns and curves. I think I got whiplash.”

Baby sighed heavily. His arms folded again as he rocked back on the heels of his feet, eyes fixed on nothing in particular.

“So much fucking unnecessary drama...” he muttered, his voice trailing off, drawn out by the pitter-patter of rain tapping steadily against the windows, ringing in his ears and echoing in his mind.

[slepiesheep]

SpongeBob Truman show AU lets gooo!! Discussing with friends and feeling motivated. Setting takes place decades later. I will analyze, include about my theories, and intentions how the series ends. I made this for FUN, don’t take it too seriously. It's likely that you might not fully understand this if you haven't watched The Truman Show or are unfamiliar with the television theory by Alex Bale. I highly recommend watching the Television theory.

Just a quick note before we start: in the SpongeBob SquarePants universe, the show is canonically a show within the show. For instance, we've seen pirates getting excited about the first SpongeBob movie. Even Patchy the Pirate, the biggest SpongeBob fan, knows about SpongeBob's existence in real life (within the show). If i remember correctly, in the Sponge out of water movie, a child even saw SpongeBob and called out his name. I think that Scientists will do anything to make the show interesting and profitable.

There will be 2 parts of this story.

Part 1

SpongeBob, Squidward and Mr. Krabs gets to celebrate The Krusty Krab anniversary. Mr. Krabs wanted to set sail on a boat trip with SpongeBob, a father-son bonding experience. Mr. Krabs dressed in his sailor hat, a dark blue trenchcoat, and SpongeBob also wore sailor clothes. Yeah Mr. Krabs fucking dies because he took 50% of the show's profits and didn't perform his duties properly 😂 The producers decided to eliminate him from the show, leaving SpongeBob traumatized for his life to increase viewer interest. A horrible thunderstorm hit. SpongeBob tried to pull up Mr. Krabs, but his scrawny arms couldn’t do it. He only managed to grab his trenchcoat. Mr. Krabs’ body was never to be found. Now, SpongeBob is the manager of the Krusty Krab, responsible for keeping the secret formula safe. He opens a notebook to write down important information. Due to aging, SpongeBob started wearing glasses. Plankton tried to exploit his naive nature, but SpongeBob slowly became more mature and courageous like Mr. Krabs. It began to feel like a repeating pattern for SpongeBob. He wanted to get out from Bikini Bottom and experience a new life and travel around the wonders of the nature before growing old and dying. However, when he tried to purchase a ticket for a trip outside of Bikini Bottom, he found that it wasn't an option for him. Strange events happened to keep SpongeBob preoccupied and ensure his continued stay in Bikini Bottom. On his way to work, SpongeBob accidentally bumped into an elderly man, only later recognizing him as Mr. Krabs. Unforeseen, two men appeared, abruptly pulling Mr. Krabs away. creating a distraction with a group of anchovies.

Mr. Krabs boarded a bus as SpongeBob began to question why Mr. Krabs, who was presumed dead, was somehow still alive but never came back to him. Confused, he shared his thoughts with Squidward, who dismissed it and pretended nothing was wrong. Feeling unsettled, SpongeBob decided to visit Sandy at her treedome to talk about what he had seen. Just before putting on his water helmet, it hit him, how could Mr. Krabs have drowned when they all lived underwater? The thought made no sense, and the more he thought about it, the more his suspicions grew. He used to believe this kind of logic was normal. Unsure of what to believe, SpongeBob went to Patrick’s house to tell him about the strange encounter. Patrick seemed confused but not entirely surprised. It felt like Patrick knew something too, as if he'd experienced something similar, but he wasn't ready to talk about it. To distract SpongeBob, Patrick suggested they head to Goofy Goobers for ice cream, hoping to lift his friend’s spirits. The next day, SpongeBob had his driving test. Ms. Puff sat next to him in the boat, still baffled by the fact that after all these years, SpongeBob had yet to earn his license. Determined to do something different, SpongeBob unexpectedly drove off the course, speeding up. Ms. Puff panicked and shouted for him to stop. She was about to take control of the wheel but hesitated, knowing a sudden turn could cause an accident. Despite her pleas, SpongeBob kept going, lost in his own thoughts.

When he drove out of town, he encountered a crowd of people blocking the road. He slammed on the brakes just in time to avoid hitting anyone. A police officer quickly approached and explained that there had been a toxic gas leak in the area, and the entire place was being evacuated. "There’s no way through," the officer warned. Before letting him go, the officer added, “Make sure to drive slower, SpongeBob.” Hearing his name snapped something in SpongeBob, and without thinking, he floored it, trying to make a run for it. The police swiftly caught up with him, arrested him on the spot, and threw him in jail. He was locked up for just one second before they kicked him out again, sending him back on his way.

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I'm exhausted. I just ate 15 bite-sized waffles while writing this, and honestly, I have no idea what I just wrote. I'll reread it tomorrow morning and fix any mistakes.

[spiderb00]

- JUST LIKE YOU

Manon Bannerman x reader 

“There was a reason why you loved your mornings, and the reason was Manon.” 

Genre – fluff     Warnings – Listen to the song, seriously, it's fantastic. 

Now playing – Black Like You, By Joseph Solomon 

The melody of your guitar filled the atmosphere, the sunlit apartment full of energy and love. The smell of coffee hung in the air and Manon's hips swayed to the sensual melody coming from your guitar. Your girlfriend's skin seemed to glow when the sunlight hit it, her braids, which were slightly messy from the night before, were now tied up in a bun.

You got up from the sofa - placing the guitar on the stand next to you - when you heard the coffee machine chime pleasantly through the apartment, signaling that your coffee was ready. Going to the kitchen counter, you missed the little pout that Manon made when the guitar chords stopped sounding. Letting out a snort, the brunette sat down on the sofa where you had been lying before, running her fingers tenderly over the strings of your guitar, almost as if she wanted to feel your touch through the instrument.

As you reached for one of your many mugs from your collection, you put away the almond milk that Manon had left on the counter, knowing that she would complain to you if it spoiled, even though she was the only one who left it out of the fridge.

As you finally took a sip of your coffee, you heard a small protest coming from your girlfriend on the sofa. “I don't know how you like that, like, not even a little milk?” Manon's question makes you laugh, walking over to her without haste.

“What's wrong with it, I like it like this.” You say.

You couldn't believe the sight you saw every morning. Manon was a goddess, your muse, your woman. Her makeup-free face and silk pajamas made you feel so intimate, so comfortable. You know that Manon worked hard to get where she is, and she keeps working harder and harder every day. You knew that she always pushed past all the people who criticized her non-stop, the hateful comments, her inner demons, you knew all that.

But at the end of the day you always remembered that you had managed to create a safe space for your love, you knew that you would always be by her side no matter what, you love Manon. She was one of the strongest women you'd ever met, but you were proud of how she knew that when she was tired, she wouldn't have to pretend anything to you. you love Manon softly, no weight in the way of your love.

“There's nothing wrong, sweetie. Now come here!” Manon said, opening her arms after placing the mug she was holding on the coffee table.

Giggling, you approached, placing your mug next to hers and sitting down next to the brunette. “You're so beautiful.” You said, your hand instantly going to her cheek.

Feeling your caress, Manon closed her eyes, enjoying the softness of your touch. Manon always loved your hands on her, everywhere, she wanted your hands to be on her constantly.

Opening her eyes, Manon had a bright look in your direction, you could see how her pupils were dilated when the sunlight kissed her face, and you swore you had fallen even more in love. “I love you.”

Manon's lips touched yours straight away, not even letting you say it back. The softness of her lips on yours made you feel like you were in heaven, her lips tasted like coffee, but a different coffee to yours, a sweeter coffee.

Slowly, Manon slipped one of her legs under your lap, straddling you and continuing the kiss. Your hands went to her waist instantly, almost as if your muscle memory couldn't let go of the movement in a million years. Her waist was curved and reminded you of the shape of your guitar, the thought making you run your hands down the silk of her pajamas.

Raising your hands again, you squeezed Manon's waist, making your girlfriend sigh into the kiss. Seeing that breathing was beginning to be a problem for both of you, you broke the kiss, only to kiss Manon's lips a few times, moving down to her jaw, her neck, and then to her exposed collarbone.

“I love you, just like I love my coffee.” You said, making Manon look confused. If this were a cartoon, there would surely be question marks in Manon's head. “Black, just like you.”

Manon's face remained serious for a few moments before she smiled and started laughing at your phrase. Seeing your girlfriend's smile, you laughed along, more at the way her smile charmed you than at your phrase.

As her laughter subsided, Manon leaned on you, her hands firmly holding your neck as she smiled openly at you. “God, I really love you.”

“And you have no idea how much I love you.” You said, leaving a lingering kiss on the brunette's lips.

Pulling away from the kiss for a moment, Manon looked at you with amusement, her eyes bright and full of joy. “Do you love me more or the coffee?”

“Do you really need that answer?”

“Then you wouldn't mind letting your coffee get cold, would you?”

Getting up from the sofa with Manon still on your lap, you hurried to your room, making the brunette giggle and cling to your neck tighter, kissing your sweet spot and giggling like a lovesick teenager.

I love her so much!

I had this idea a few weeks ago, but I was so busy with requests that I only had time to do it now.

I love this song and one day while I was listening to it, Manon popped into my head, so BOOM, here we are.

I hope you enjoyed it, stay safe and drink some water

xoxo, spider.

[rosarykisses]

How to send a letter to your

desired reality s / o

yourself and / or your friends!

───

OKAY SO!!! I’m not an experienced shifter or anything like that— I’m still pretty new to all of this. So take this method with a grain of salt! But!!! This is something that genuinely helped me feel closer to my DR, and I wanted to share in case it helps you too.

You can write your letter however you’d like—on actual paper (which is what I did!), in a notes app, or even a Word doc. The medium doesn’t matter—your intention does.

───

STEP ONE : WRITE FROM THE HEART WITH FULL INTENT . . .

Say whatever you feel. I wrote how I was sorry I hadn’t made it there yet and how hard I was trying. You can talk about anything—how much you care for them, what you’re excited about, or what you wish they knew.

STEP TWO : TREAT THEM

LIKE THEY ARE REAL

BECAUSE THEY ARE!

Write as if you’re speaking directly to them. Be sweet, kind, respectful, loving—whatever fits the relationship. Whether they’re a slow-burn love interest, a close friend, a family member, or even your DR self, keep your connection in mind as you write.

STEP THREE :

INTENT IS EVERYTHING

Intent is the most important part of this process. If you don’t mean what you’re saying and believe it will reach them, it probably won’t. Your energy needs to be aligned with the idea that they’ll receive it. Affirm that this message is going exactly where it’s meant to.

STEP FOUR :

SCRIPT THAT THEY FIND IT !!!

Seriously — if you don’t script that they find the note or letter in your DR, they likely won’t. Be specific about how or where they find it if you want.

STEP FIVE :

ASK FOR A SIGN ( OPTIONAL )

At the end of your letter, you can write something like:

“If you receive this letter, could you give me a sign? Nothing huge, just something small like [ insert something specific but unusual you’d notice ].” Make it random enough that you’ll know it’s from them when it happens.

STEP SIX :

SEAL WITH AFFIRMATIONS

Once you’ve written your letter, say your affirmations out loud or in your mind — something like:

“This message will reach them. They will find it. They know I’m coming.”

───

WHAT TO DO WITH THE LETTER

If you typed your letter:

Say your affirmations, then delete it and try to forget about it. Obsessing over it or rereading it over and over may block results.

If you handwrote your letter:

You can burn it, rip it and release it into the wind, send it in a bottle, bury it, or even ( this sounds silly but it worked for me ) flush it down the toilet. Whatever helps you let it go with belief that it’s on its way.

───

JUST REMEMBER . . .

your belief, focus, and intent matter more than anything else. You’re not “just pretending” — you’re creating a connection that already exists in some version of reality.

Good luck, and trust the process 💌 Let me know if it works for you!

[amadinan]

TADC episode 5 analysis

I will collect here my thoughts that appeared after watching the 5th episode of TADC. And there are many of them, the episode is really rich in revealing the backstories of the characters and even lore. But I will mainly touch on Caine and the lore of the circus.

But first, some small thoughts before I move on to the Intermission time.

Jax is an NPC?

To be honest, I never believed in this theory, it is interesting in a vacuum, but nothing more. However, at this point we have not one, but three hints about this: Jax's number in episode 4, which refers to the Blender program and how copies are named there, the fact that Caine was able to make Jax a vegan (although Caine stated that he cannot influence the minds of players) and the fact that Jax himself was sure that he had a tail.

This would already be enough to consider the theory probable, but perhaps this hole is a little deeper. In the end, Caine was also able to influence Ragatha, although not directly.

But what if we combine this with the main theory of the circus, that all people are digital copies of minds? Then, Caine can theoretically control them, because from his program point of view, they are no different from very complex NPCs, which Caine churns out himself, like on a conveyor belt. Let's remember that Caine deleted Gummigoo because he was afraid of confusing him with a person (after all, even then there were thoughts that Caine accidentally deleted someone) and probably Caine deleted the original Jax, and then replaced him with a NPC copy that differs from the original only in the absence of a tail. After all, even in the episode with the evil team, we were shown that Caine can easily create humanoid personalities by copying them from players.

Caine and Gangle

In the fifth episode, I noticed two actions between them and both were not entirely direct. First: immediately after exiting the portal, Caine noticed Gangle's broken mask and fixed it without a word. Second: Gangle was not on the evil team, she was replaced by Orbsman. I think Caine realized that Gangle almost abstracted at the end of episode 4, so Caine decided to be a little more attentive to her. And he did not add an evil clone, because this clone ... would have been Gangle from episode 4 herself, which could only upset her.

"Sarcastic eye-flying" after Zooble's sentence.

It's only one phrase, but it's clearly a lore bomb, although it is not entirely clear without context. For starters, Caine does not call Zooble by name, not "player", "guest" or even "human", he calls them "toy-box character". This may again hint at digital copies, but not necessarily. And then Caine says "other intelligent AIs" and this is even stranger, who did he mean? People like him and Bubble, simple NPCs or  like players? It's unclear, but interesting, and Caine seriously doesn't like this idea from Zooble and again it's unclear why? The overload on the system? A possible NPC revolt? Caine is afraid that if there are too many characters, he will completely get confused who is who?

And finally, The Intermission time.

Get ready, there will be a complete searching for meaning where there may be none at all.

To be honest, I didn't understand everything, but some things may well have a context, so I'd be glad to hear your thoughts.

So, right after the intermission there was a bar where almost all the characters shared their past, and what if Caine shared too, just before this adventure? But purely in his style.

Right after the  start scene, we are shown Bubble and how three jaws overlap each other, and then also three Caines, each larger one holding the smaller one. This may refer to his development, how starting with something simple like Bubble, he first became "jaws" (probably an alpha version), and then more and more complex, until he became what he is now. This also corresponds to the fact that at the end of the scene, Caine sort of folds himself, and then a small splash screen plays like in the 2000s games and the computer monitor turns on/off.

Why in the next scene Pomni is not clear to me, but here's why exactly cubes suggested by @poprocksriot. Perhaps there were three parts or even three AI that became a single being: two eyes of Caine and Bubble (possibly a third eye, as in the concept art).

Gangle, Zooble and Jax are sucked into the void: a metaphor for sucking people into the game.

A bunch of eyes in the void and Caine in the light in the middle. I think this is one of the most important scenes, which shows that Caine "came to life" and is no longer just a program. Firstly, the official music, secondly (thank you, @puddingandp1) he breathes in this scene, which may just mean that he is now sentient. In addition, the eyes. There are indeed a lot of eyes, but NONE of them are looking at Caine himself, which could mean how he became an "rogue AI".

Then we see the chessboard floor and the characters. Their world is literally turned upside down. A bowling ball falls on Pomni and Jax, which may indicate their condition as they were affected by getting into the circus. Moreover, we even saw Pomnis' condition in the first series. The situation crushed her, like a bowling ball. With Gangle and Ragatha it is a little more complicated, cakes fall on them. This means that for them the situation in the circus is "sweeter" than what was in reality. We heard about the abuse in Ragatha's family right in this episode, so in the circus, where her mother is not, she could get better. And with Gangle it is even easier. She worked at such a hateful job that even simulating these memories for just one day almost killed her. In the circus there is Jax, as a minus, but she does not have to work and she can draw as much as she wants. And Kinger. He catches the ball, which seems to say that the situation has not crushed him, but then he is not just crushed, but directly knocked off the board (mind) by a black figure, the loss of Queenie.

Then it is more figurative. Caine literally holds everyone in his hands. The characters in Caine's "hat" and they are clearly being watched, then a bunch of mannequins, which can also refer to the fact that Caine, as a puppeteer, holds them under control.

Then Caine stands on the floor and the camera approaches him. Note that this is the same chessboard floor on which the others were standing, and a bowling ball can approach it, as if the camera was attached directly to it, but Caine manages (for now) to not let himself be crushed.

Then a corridor and abstractions. Well, here it is quite clear, the attitude and the display of lost players.

Then Zooble interrupts Caine and he hangs. Perhaps we should have seen something else, from which even Caine hung, but alas.

Of course, there is also a mysterious mannequin that follows Pomni and is possibly Gummigoo, but little is known about him yet.

That's all for now, I really liked the series, I'm sure it will only get more interesting.