#just to make sure because they keep using language like

[the-nasti-files]

just some demon smut that I wrote at work during a meeting I didn't need to be in.

demon x fem!reader - work count - 2,223

You can find my full masterlist Here

You had a problem only you could see.

And that problem had a name.

Eiden.

Well, you call him Eiden. His real name was about 12 syllables long in a language that doesn’t exist anymore.

Why the demon had taken such a liking to you, you still hadn’t figured out. But he had—doggedly, shamelessly. Like a massive, overgrown puppy who didn’t understand the meaning of personal space. Sometimes, it had its perks. Most of the time, it was a headache.

Tonight was no exception.

You stood in your room, adjusting your outfit for dinner with friends, trying to focus. Behind you, a scoff broke the silence.

Eiden lay sprawled across your bed, tail flicking with clear annoyance.

“And you’re sure I can’t come?” he whined, as if he hadn’t already pestered you twice. “What if something happens and you need protection?”

That pout of his was familiar by now—part charm, part manipulation. Odds were, he’d follow you anyway.

Catching his gaze in the mirror, you leveled a flat look. “Because you’re a nuisance.”

A dramatic groan followed, muffled as he flopped back into the pillows. “And how, exactly, am I a nuisance?” One elbow propped him up just enough to glare with wounded pride. Being left out was his personal hell.

You turned back to your reflection, smoothing your dress.

“It’s like living with a demonic house cat,” you muttered. “Clingy, moody, and always knocking shit over.” A sigh escaped as you reached behind to grab the tip of his tail, waving it in front of his face. “And you can’t deny it.”

He yanked it out of your grasp with a sharp flick. “I am no cat.”

Before you could respond, the bed creaked and the heat of his body closed in behind you. His arms came down on either side of your hips, hands braced against the dresser, effectively trapping you there, his warm breath brushing your ear.

“You are,” you muttered again, refusing to be intimidated. “Last time you followed me out, you couldn’t keep that fucking tail to yourself.”

A deep, rumbling chuckle vibrated against your spine as he leaned in, chin coming to rest on your shoulder. That tail—so smugly self-aware—draped over your shoulder again, its tip stroking a slow line along your cheek.

“Not my fault you look good enough to devour,” came the low purr, hands sliding to your hips, drawing you in until your back pressed tight against his chest.

His breath deepened. You could feel it—slow and indulgent, like he was savoring the scent of you. The tension radiating off him, however restrained, was unmistakable as his fingers dug into your hips with a bruising kind of need.

Then the first kiss landed on your bare shoulder. Another followed. Then another. Lips mapped a path up your neck, soft and patient, until teeth caught gently at your ear.

Your breath stuttered.

One leg shifted forward, sliding between yours. His hip settled against you, firm and deliberate. Wandering hands brushed over your stomach, tracing familiar curves as if he had all the time in the world.

“This is playing dirty,” you whispered, barely able to get the words out.

Laughter rumbled low in his throat. One hand tilted your chin just enough to bare more of your throat to him, and he made full use of it—kissing, biting, dragging his tongue over the pulse pounding beneath your skin.

“Oh, darling…” His voice had dropped—deeper now, rough with hunger.

Fingertips danced over your ribs, your waist, before anchoring again at your hip in a grip that said you weren’t going anywhere.

“You’ve got no idea how dirty I can get.”

The grip on your hip tightened—just enough to make your breath hitch. His mouth never stopped, working over the column of your neck with slow, sinful purpose. Each kiss dragged heat through your veins. Each bite felt like a warning.

Or a promise.

“You should really let me come with you,” he murmured against your skin, voice thick and dark. “But I’d settle for you staying right here instead.”

The tip of his tail slid down from your shoulder, curling around your thigh—slow and deliberate. The weight of it brushed beneath your hem, teasing the sensitive skin there, stroking with just enough pressure to make your legs tense.

“That tail gets you into so much trouble,” you breathed, but your voice was already going soft, thick with want.

“And yet,” his lips brushed your ear, “you never stop letting me touch you with it.”

He shifted behind you, and you could feel all of him now—all of him. The heat pressed to your back wasn’t subtle. With his size, nothing about him ever was.

One of his hands slid around your waist, splaying across your stomach before dipping lower. The heat of his palm burned through the fabric of your dress, and the tail between your thighs gave a teasing flick that made your breath catch.

“You don’t even know what you do to me,” he growled, nose dragging along your jaw. “I can smell how badly you want it—feel how soft you are.”

His hips ground forward, slow and heavy, letting you feel just how hard he was against you. Gods. You felt stretched just thinking about it.

Eiden pressed a kiss along your jaw, then another behind your ear. “Let me ruin that pretty outfit,” he rasped, voice half-feral. “Let me fuck you against this dresser until you can’t remember what you were getting dressed for in the first place.”

The ache between your thighs throbbed in response, involuntarily pressing together—but that damn tail was still there, curling tighter, stroking slow and maddening as it pushed between them.

“You’re lucky I like you,” you managed, hips rocking back against him without thinking.

“You’re lucky I’m holding back,” he growled, hands now pulling you with purpose, lining you up just how he wanted. His cock pressed up along your ass—huge, hot, and straining against the confines of his pants.

The dresser edge dug into your hips, but you hardly noticed. Not with the way his tail was rubbing just right, not with how his hand had started slipping beneath your dress, dragging fabric upward, exposing skin inch by inch.

“Say the word,” he whispered, tongue tracing the shell of your ear. “Say the word and I’ll bend you over this fucking dresser and split you open on my cock—slow, deep, until you’re shaking.”

A whimper escaped before you could bite it back.

He grinned against your neck, inhaling the sound like a drug. “Thought so.”

Your dress hiked the rest of the way up in one motion, and cool air kissed your skin for a second before his hand was there, cupping you through your underwear. Fingers rubbed slow, teasing, until you were grinding down into his palm with desperate need.

“Dripping,” he groaned, voice fraying with restraint. “Fuck, you’re always so ready for me.”

One hand tugged your panties aside, and the head of his cock—notched thick and heavy—pressed to your slick folds from behind. He was so big, it felt impossible already.

But you wanted it. Needed it.

You arched back against him, gasping as his hand came around to brace your chest, pinning you in place while he angled his hips, letting the first thick inch of him push inside.

“Gods—” your voice cracked on the stretch.

A low growl rumbled in his chest as he slid in slowly, inch by impossible inch, your walls straining to take him. “That’s it,” he whispered, mouth open against your neck. “Take me. Let me fill that perfect little cunt.”

By the time he bottomed out, stars were dancing behind your eyes.

He stilled for a heartbeat, panting against your skin, as if savoring how tight you were around him. Large hands held you steady while your legs trembled, barely able to support the weight of him inside you.

“Made for me,” he snarled softly, tail curling possessively around your thigh again. “No one else gets to touch you like this. No one else gets to hear these sounds you make.”

Then he pulled back—a slow, thick drag—and slammed back in, knocking the breath from your lungs.

The dresser creaked. Your moan echoed off the walls.

And Eiden just kept moving, hips snapping forward again and again, driving his cock into you with enough force to make the room blur.

“Your friends will have to wait,” he grunted. “You’re not going anywhere.”

The dresser groaned with every thrust. So did you.

He fucked you like he had a point to prove—like your body belonged to him and he was going to remind every nerve ending of that fact.

“Listen to you,” he rasped into your ear, voice guttural and slick with hunger. “Moaning for me. Dripping all over my cock.”

Your fingers gripped the edge of the dresser until your knuckles ached, trying to stay upright, trying not to fall apart. Every thrust felt like it went too deep, too thick, too much—and yet not enough.

Behind you, Eiden was lost in the rhythm. Each time he bottomed out, a satisfied growl rumbled in his chest, one hand tight around your waist while the other snaked up to wrap around your throat—just enough pressure to make your breath catch, to make your walls clamp down hard around him.

“Ohhh, fuck—” he groaned, hips stuttering. “You like that? Like when I get a little rough?”

You couldn’t answer. Not with how full you were. Not with the stretch, the delicious burn, the filthy wet sounds echoing between your bodies. But your moan was answer enough.

He laughed, low and feral, licking a stripe up the side of your neck. “That’s my good girl. So fucking needy. So desperate for this cock, aren’t you?”

You whimpered as his tail coiled tighter around your thigh again—but this time, it moved between them. The tip curved in, brushing your clit with a teasing flick that made your whole body jolt.

“Eiden—” Your voice broke on his name, high and strained, hips jerking at the sudden extra stimulation.

“Mmm, look at you,” he growled. “Already shaking. You gonna come for me like this? With my cock stuffed inside you and my tail rubbing that sweet little clit?”

The tip of it circled, pressure building just right—precise, relentless, sinful. Paired with the brutal thrust of his hips, you felt yourself spiral toward the edge with terrifying speed.

“Come on,” he snarled, biting down on your shoulder hard enough to mark. “Come for me. Soak my cock, make a mess—let them smell me on you for days.”

Your climax hit like a freight train. Body locking, mouth open on a broken scream, walls spasming so violently around him you felt him snarl behind you.

“Fucking hell—that’s it, fuck, you feel that?” His hips punched into you once, twice—then he let go.

Hot, thick, endless.

You felt every pulse of him as he emptied inside you, growling broken curses into your neck, his cock twitching deep, deeper than you thought possible. The sensation was overwhelming—heat spreading through your belly as he filled you full, your legs trembling under the weight of it.

But he wasn’t done.

You gasped as he pulled out just enough to watch the mess drip down your thighs—then drove back in with a low snarl, fucking his cum deeper into you. His tail flicked back to your overstimulated clit, and your hands flew to stop him.

“Too much—Eiden—”

A cruel little grin curled at his lips. “Oh no, sweetheart,” he growled, pinning your hands to the dresser. “You don’t get to tap out yet. Not when I’ve waited all day to fill this perfect little cunt.”

Your body jerked with each stroke now, soaked and twitching, mind swimming somewhere between bliss and ruin. His hand released your throat to wrap around your waist again, hauling you back as he fucked into you even harder, grunting with effort.

“Gonna knock the thoughts right outta your head,” he promised, hips slamming forward. “Breed you so full you won’t even think about going out tonight.”

You cried out again—louder this time, raw—because it was too much and not enough and gods, the way he owned you—

“Mine,” he whispered, fangs dragging over your skin. “Every inch of you. This body, this pussy, this sweet little mouth—mine.”

You weren’t sure how many times you came after that. It blurred into one endless rush of sensation—his cock dragging across your most sensitive spots, his tail working you through each peak until your body collapsed, spent and twitching.

At some point, he lifted you off the dresser entirely, cradled in his arms, still buried deep inside you as he carried you to the bed. You were boneless, dazed, wrecked—and he looked at you like you were a treasure he'd hoard forever.

He laid you down gently. Brushed sweat-damp hair from your face.Kissed your forehead like a reverent beast.

“Still think I’m a nuisance?” he murmured, trailing his fingers along your thigh where his cum still leaked out, thick and hot.

You blinked up at him, lips parted, lungs still catching up.

“Ask me again when I can walk.”

That grin—that wicked, devastating grin—spread across his face.

“Oh, sweetheart,” he purred, dragging the sheet over your bare skin, “you’re not walking anywhere tonight.”

[lalalalalew]

WARMER; TODD STEVENS

Second part of second place

✍️Author's Note: I’m sorry if there’s anything wrong with the story. English is not my first language, so I apologize for that. •After several weeks of indecision, I finally went for it. I didn't think this could turn into some kind of… series? But I hope you like it.

TODD STEVENS X FEM READER

The sky still held the dull gray of dawn when she turned the corner of the building.

Her headphones hung around her neck, her breathing was a little rushed, and her cheeks were still flushed from the run. She’d gone out jogging before the day started, as if that could help clear her head. But when she arrived, she came to a full stop.

On the concrete benches in front of the entrance, someone was sitting, wearing a dark jacket and looking down at their phone. Just a second of hesitation, until she recognized the profile. Todd.

She immediately frowned. Not because she was annoyed to see him, but because she couldn’t find a logical reason for him to be there. Especially at that hour.

She was about to keep walking, pretending not to have noticed him, assuming maybe he was waiting for someone else, when Todd looked up. He stood with calm ease, slipping a hand into his pants pocket as if he had all the time in the world.

"Hey?" she said, cautiously.

Todd smiled, that smile of his that could throw anyone off balance.

"You were a bit hard to find," he admitted with a sigh, as if he’d just completed a long mission, "but I’m glad I did."

She looked at him suspiciously. The sun was barely peeking between the buildings, and Todd seemed far too relaxed for such an early hour. She didn’t know whether to laugh or be concerned.

"Do you need something?" she asked, not in a harsh tone, but making it clear she was confused.

"Do you want to have breakfast with me?"

The question came gently, but it felt like a small stumble in the air. She blinked, unsure she’d heard right. Looked at him with an amused, disbelieving expression.

"What?"

"Breakfast. Coffee, toast, whatever. My treat."

She let out a soft, brief laugh. She was convinced it was some kind of joke. But when she saw Todd wasn’t laughing, when she realized he was still standing there, genuinely waiting for an answer, her smile slowly faded.

"I thought you didn’t like me," she murmured.

Todd looked down for a moment and scratched the back of his neck, like the question had caught him off guard. Then he looked back up at her, and for a second, he actually looked a little embarrassed.

"It was just a phase, can we call a truce?"

She didn’t know what to say. She glanced toward the building entrance, like she needed to escape, and then blurted the first excuse that came to mind.

"I need to change. It'll take me a while."

"I don’t mind waiting," Todd said with a casual shrug.

That threw her off more than anything. Since when was Todd this patient?

"I have to be back before my next class," she added, trying to put up a barrier, one they both knew would be easy to cross.

"I’ll make sure you’re back in time," he replied simply, fully aware that was the one class they didn’t share.

There was no sarcasm in his voice. None of that cocky attitude he usually leaned on when he didn’t know how to handle his feelings. This time, he just sounded honest. She sighed, resigned.

"Give me fifteen minutes."

They ended up at a small café with tall windows and the smell of freshly baked bread. The kind of place no one would ever imagine Todd even knew existed.He had simply said, "Trust me," and for some reason, she did.

They ordered their breakfasts. Nothing fancy. Coffee, eggs, and toast. The conversation flowed effortlessly.

They laughed more than once, and he looked at her with an expression she didn’t recognize. It wasn’t that loaded look he used at parties to get what he wanted, nor the arrogance he wore like armor in the hallways. It was something else. Something calmer.

Todd wasn’t trying to impress her. And that was what impressed her most. Ironic.

The coffee had cooled a bit. The toast was half-eaten on her plate. And although they’d started talking about trivial things, the weather, classes, annoying professors, the conversation gradually took a different tone.

"Do you always go running this early?" Todd asked, turning his cup between his hands.

She nodded, shrugging.

"It helps clear my head. I feel like if I start the day moving, things hurt less. Or at least, feel smaller."

Todd looked at her a second longer than necessary. Then he smiled, but not his usual smile. This one was softer.

"That’s weird."

"What is?" she asked curiously, taking a sip of coffee.

"That I do the same. Well, I don’t run," he said, scrunching his nose, "but I usually get up before my alarm. I like walking around campus when it’s empty. Makes me feel like I’m in control of something. Anything.

"She blinked. For some reason, she hadn’t pictured him like that.

"Aren’t you one of those people who hates waking up early?" she asked, incredulous.

"I’m one of those people who doesn’t sleep well," he said, not laughing this time.

A brief silence settled between them. Not uncomfortable, just heavy. Like they both knew they’d revealed a little too much by accident. Then she spoke:

"That happens to me sometimes too. Not sleeping. I stay up thinking about things that shouldn’t bother me so much… but they do."

Todd let out a small, resigned chuckle.

"Like your brain has its own schedule to torture you," he said calmly, like it was his best-kept secret.

"Exactly."

Their eyes met for a moment. And even though neither of them said anything, something shifted in the space between them. Something that hadn’t been there before.

"Have you ever felt like you’re always showing a version of yourself, but no one really sees what’s underneath?" she asked, lowering her voice.

"All the time," Todd replied without hesitation, "people look at me and assume things. And sometimes it’s just easier to let them believe it."

"What if someone sees through it?"

Todd smiled, but there was no joy in it.

"Then it becomes a problem."

She nodded. She knew exactly what he meant.

"I guess that’s what’s scariest. When someone sees you… without needing you to explain," she said.

Todd looked down. Played with his fork for a moment before saying:

"Or worse... they do, and still walk away."

And for a moment, just one, there was a silence so heavy it felt impossible to fill with words. But there was no need.

"So, I guess we do have a few things in common," she said at last, trying to lighten the moment.

Todd set his fork down and took one last sip of coffee.

"More than I expected," he replied, smiling softly. Looking at her like that fact surprised him more than it should.

She smiled back. Not like she’d won some sort of contest. But like someone who, finally, felt a little less alone in the world.

When the waitress dropped the check on the table, she reached for it, but Todd was faster.

"You don’t have to. I invited you, remember?" he said, his voice genuinely kind.

"Still, I can pay for mine." She looked at him with a raised eyebrow, as if she still wasn’t sure whether to take him seriously.

"I mean it. I don’t want you to think this is some kind of deal or favor," he added, more gently this time, "I just wanted to spend time with you. And I’m glad you said yes."

She didn’t reply. But her smile was sincere. A little shy, even. And as they walked back toward their building, Todd couldn’t help but think that if she asked him to, he’d have breakfast with her every day.

@vivianfiles

[forsaken-headcanons]

Happy Noli day :3

Here's some post-forsaken 1337n7 + their unofficial child c00lkidd headcanons so that Mod Ferland can release me from the basement (pls let me out there's spiders down here)

- Everyone assumes they're well-over 40 but Guest is actually 34 and 007n7 just turned 30. The stress just made them look a lot older than they are.

- Guest 1337 takes care of c00lkidd when 007n7 isn't home and is at his part-time jobs, which was weird for the kid because 7n7 was always home. 7n7 had to explain to him that his clones were the ones taking care of him while he wasn't home until c00lkidd turned 8 years old because at that point he started working from home in order to homeschool him, but he always makes sure to take day-offs to spend time with Guest and c00lkidd (or just c00lkidd if Guest goes out job-hunting).

- None of them know it, but Guest to other people has scary dog privileges. 007n7 and c00lkidd can usually come off as very threatening to other people because they used to be "notorious exploiters", duh. The first time they noticed something was off with the way people approach them was when Guest was getting made fun of by a bunch of kids, talking about his species and how there's like only a few of them left (he didn't pay mind to them. this guy was tired as shit) until 7n7 left a nearby cafe with their coffees and approached Guest. Those kids were frantically apologizing before they ran away at the sight of 7n7 and it confused the both of them.

-^ 7n7 and c00lkidd became urban legends by the time they disappeared. They don't know about this because the hype died down a year before they escaped, but some people still make fake posts about seeing them in Experiences and hacking the servers.

- Guest cooks dinner while 007n7 cooks breakfast because Guest is NOT letting 7n7's overworking ass cook dinner after just coming home from three customer service jobs with a possibility that he got bad-mouthed whilst on-duty.

- Guest has different parenting skills than 007n7 so he tries his very best to make sure he gets along with c00lkidd by going on walks at the park, taking him to Builder Brothers Pizza (who now had the kid and 7n7 removed from being blacklisted as per Elliot's request), and a bunch of other stuff he has learned from listening to 7n7 about what made his son happy while they were still stuck in the Spectre's dimension. Fortunately for him, c00lkidd likes his company.

- Guest was very hesitant to engage in physical affection like hugs, hand-holding, just physical touch in general because he doesn't know if 007n7 will be comfortable with it or not until 7n7 leaned on him when he got home from work. They stayed in the couch they were at for an hour before Guest got him to eat dinner.

- Parallel play as one of their love languages because the mere presence of each other and the fact that they are okay is enough for them to feel at ease. At a close proximity, of course.

- Everyone thinks the two of them are married. When they go anywhere with c00lkidd, everyone always assumes they're a married couple. They don't have a specific label for their relationship yet because the two of them are waiting for the other to decide if they want to give the thing they have together a label.

-^ If the other does ask, they will say they want to be boyfriends, Guest WILL say it with a lot more enthusiasm.

- The two of them are actively looking for Daisy, Matt, and Charlotte. 007n7 keeps thinking that they wouldn't like him, but Guest always reassures him that they will love him. Either way, 7n7 always practices his greetings for them in front of the mirror every morning just in case he stumbles across one of them in public.

And that's basically it! I might add more to this one if I get more ideas.

WHAT! I don't even have a basement to begin with??!

the only reason why i put you there was because of the SPIDERS! and if they aren't gone when i check on you again then you aren't getting out any time soon.

1337n7 CONTENT??? IN THIS ECONOMY?!! OH MY GOODNESS I AM GONNA EAT THIS UP SO GOOD!!!

I always did adore domesticated AUs like these, they're always so sweet! It's always such nice little escape from the horrific setting in Forsaken. I especially like this one, I likey!! :~]

Would love to hear from you again soon!!

[bloodmoonmuses]

completely | jeong jaehyun

genre: singleparent!reader x pianist!jaehyun ( feat. ex-husband!mark, seulgi, irene, yeri and balletteacher! winter <3 )

synopsis: when your daughter finally convinces you to sign her up for ballet lessons, you don't expect to fall head over heels for the dance company's in-house pianist.

wc: 7.7k warnings: suggestive scenes, mentions of divorce, single parenthood, strong language (guys i'm so happy to be back, this is the longest fic i've ever written! i'm a teacher, not a mom, so if there's inaccuracies forgive meeeee!)

August 2024

The remnants of summer stick to your skin- a dense layer of memories, love lost and fatigue draped over you like a weighty blanket. You grasp your daughter’s hand a bit tighter- to assure her or yourself, you’re not sure. Her little legs struggle to keep up with you as bound down the hall, already five minutes late for her ballet class.

“Mama, it’s okay!” the child says with surprisingly convincing conviction for a seven year old. “Miss Winter is really really reallyyyyyy nice.” She draws out the last ‘really’, as if to further persuade you, and you smile to yourself. How is it that your daughter is the one comforting you?

Melody had begged to be put in a ballet class for the entire year prior, until you and your ex-husband, Mark, finally caved ( -a late birthday gift from the two of you). Now, it’s early August and you’ve been attempting to get into a routine before the school year starts in a week or so.

So far, throwing an additional extracurricular into the mix has been a little chaotic. That, coupled with with getting used to sharing parental duties with a man you’re not entirely over (even after two years)-

“Mama? Did you hear me?”

“About Miss Winter, yes. She’s really, really, reallyyyyy, really nice.” 

Mark had dropped her off for last week’s session- Melody’s first ever class. A part of you is nervous to show your face now, feeling late to the ingratiation period. Or maybe ‘ingratiate’ is a bit dramatic- but all the faux niceties and exchanging of Facebooks. That period.

Another part of you worries that the prissy stay-at-home-mother-because-their-husband-makes -six-figures types spent all last session drooling over your ex. And you don’t blame them; He’s a looker. (If only you knew they were probably drooling over someone else.)

In striking similarity to your recent nightmares, all the mothers’ eyes turn to you as you open the studio door. You practically wince as it opens and closes with a slam, yet Melody is none the wiser. She walks to her spot at the barre and promptly begins stretching. Those ballet YouTube videos must’ve really paid off. Go figure.

You take a seat in one of the chairs lined up on the other side of the room, next to a woman with short wavy hair. She smells of citrus and cucumber, clad in a slouchy striped tee. She looks cool.

“Melody is yours?” the woman starts. “She’s so tall.”

“Thank you,” you say, because, what are you supposed to say to that? Parent small talk is so peculiar, you find.

“I’m Seulgi,” she whispers.

“_______,” you reply, shaking her hand. She smiles back at you warmly, and you involuntarily mirror her expression. 

“Yeri is mine.” Seulgi points to a child with pink streaks in her hair. It must be a trend, because Melody asked for the same style just last week. Your eyebrows furrow briefly. “Don’t worry, it’s just hair chalk,” she continues.

Is Seulgi a mindreader? Then, as if she had heard your thoughts again, she says, “You don’t have a very good poker face.”

“No, it’s just- Mel asked for the same thing. I feel so out of loop with what kids like these days. Idols and TikTokers and all that… She’s a little sponge right now.”

“I know, I’m grappling with it all myself,” Seulgi contends.

Then, a hush falls over the cacophony of kids and mothers alike as the door handle jiggles. When it swings open, a man in khakis and a button up walks in, waving at everyone as he makes his way to the baby grand in the corner and takes a seat. A tendril of black hair falls into his eyes and he blows it out of the way, the puffing of his cheeks endearing you to him immediately.

“I apologize for my lateness,” he says to Winter, “-and Ladies.” A dimple appears briefly before disappearing in the focused expression that overtakes his face. He readies his fingers on the piano keys, waiting for Winter's cue.

You inhale sharply, the intake of oxygen like a pinprick in your right side. You sit up a bit straighter.

“We were just getting started. Across-the-floors my angels!” Winter shouts, stepping into her teacher role. The girls scurry to the wall like mice, lining up in preparation for their gallivanting. The unnamed man plays a few notes tentatively, then begins a piece for the girls’ warm up.

It’s Op. 15 No.2 in F- Sharp Major, but he repeats just a small phrase of it- a little piece that weaves through the room like a sodden rope. Hopeful and melancholy. Oxymoronic, yet poignant and odd- The melody sits in your chest heavily. You vaguely recognize it as Chopin, but you’re more infatuated with Jaehyun’s fingers fluttering against the rickety keys as he plays to the tempo of the students.

“Feel how the music dips,” Winter says as the students melt into a plie. “Let the notes communicate through you. From your fingertips to your toes.”

Leaning over to Seulgi, you ask, “Who’s that?” You’re a bit breathless.

“Jeong Jaehyun. He’s quite the established pianist. No one’s really sure why he’s here,” Seulgi obliges. “He’s nice to look at, isn’t he?”

What a lovely name for a lovely face, you think. Jaehyun. The syllables of it practically ring on Seulgi’s tongue. 

“Are you into him?” you whisper.

“No, I have a wife!” she giggles, and you hate that you’re a bit relieved. 

You scoff at yourself for showing your hand so blatantly- for blushing as your eyes are still fixated on Jaehyun’s nimble fingers. “Oh, well your opinion is quite objective then.”

“I mean, look at him,” and the two of you fight to stifle your laughter.

—

After gathering her things, Melody comes up to you and tugs on the back pocket of your jeans. “The other girls are getting ice cream, Mom,” she says in a whiny plea. “Around the corner.”

“Good for them.” you say. “C’mon kiddo, let’s get out of here.”

“But Dad said no last week too!” Then she juts out her lower lip, making her look just like Mark- glassy eyes and all.

“It’s a pretty regular thing,” Seulgi starts, walking up with her daughter Yeri as she overhears the tail end of your conversation. “‘Company bonding’ and all that.”

“Melody knows she has math tutoring later today, and-”

Then, Seulgi smirks. “Mr. Jeong tags along too.”

“I guess a little ice cream wouldn’t hurt.”

At the ice cream shop, a cute little parlor with pastel tiling and confection shaped lights, Jaehyun pays for all of the students to get a scoop in a flavor of their choice. Pianist money, you suppose. 

The kids sit at one table and the parents sit at another. Jaehyun takes a spot at the head of it, everyone clamoring to get his attention. Small talk encrypted with innuendo. Nothing explicit, of course. The majority of it lies in how desperately some of the moms eye him. A suffocatingly palpable thickness in the air, and the pit in your stomach has returned.

As everyone finishes up their ice cream, throwing away the little cups and funneling out the shop periodically, you catch Jaehyun lingering at the door.

“Oh, Mr. Jeong-” you start, not exactly sure what you’re going to say next.

“Please, call me Jaehyun.”

“Um, okay. Jaehyun-”

“I don’t think I caught your name.” Jaehyun interjects. “You weren’t here last week,” then under his breath he says, “I would’ve remembered.”

“_____________. Nice to meet you.”

Jaehyun shakes your hand. “Nice to meet you t-”

“Mom?!” Melody shrieks out of seemingly nowhere. “Can I get another scoop of ice cream?” You have got to get this whining under control.

“Melody-”

“Please! Please, please, please-”

“Melody, I think Yeri wants to say goodbye!” Seulgi says. You didn’t even realize she was nearby. She walks both your child and Yeri outside, sending you a non-discrete wink on the way.

“She’s very energetic,” Jaehyun says

“Oh, Melody? She’s ecstatic. She’s been begging to be in a ballet class for years now.  I finally scrounged up enough change to make it happen.”

“It’s definitely a pricey habit,” Jaehyun contends.

“Like being a pianist?”

“I’d hardly call myself a pianist. I play piano in my free time. Those are two different things.”

“Then what do you do?” you ask.

“I teach piano classes.”

“For kids? Melody would probably love to take a few lessons.”

“Uh, I teach adult classes too.” he adds sheepishly, ears turning bright red. 

“Oh. Good to know.” 

You wave timidly as you exit the parlor behind the others.

— 

For Melody’s next class the following Sunday, you’re early. You feel a bit juvenile, periodically darting your eyes over to the door while trying to pay attention to your child’s dancing. 

Melody has already shown improvement just in one session- Winter is nothing short of amazing as an instructor. You watch as your daughter’s eyes light up, hanging on to Winter’s every word as she leads them through the warm-up portion of class.

Then, the door swings open. Jaehyun stumbles in, cradling a binder of sheet music and balancing a pair of glasses on the tip of his nose. All the while, he mutters ‘sorry’ a few times and promptly sits at his piano, nodding towards Winter when he’s settled in. He doesn’t play Chopin this week. Instead, he’s chosen Tchaikovsky. Very wintery for the middle of August. 

This time, you watch how the music travels through Melody, seeing yourself and Mark in her in a dysmorphic clamor. For a second, it makes your heart pound how much she resembles her father- but, also, how she’s morphing into her own person. You notice a streak of pink behind her little ear. She must’ve gotten some hair chalk from Yeri. 

While Melody is picking up her things after class, Jaehyun walks up to you where you’re sitting. Seulgi hits your shoulder and scurries away under the guise of tending to Yeri. “Go get ‘em tiger,” she whispers. You scowl at her, at which she simply shrugs.

“Hey,” he says.

“Hi.” How smooth. 

Jaehyun rubs the back of his neck. “Melody has great musicality. Fast learner.”

You chortle. “Unlike her mother. Not sure where she got it from. And your playing… it’s hypnotizing. Well, I mean- it’s, like, really good.” Good? That’s the best you can think of?

At this, he smiles, slightly shaking his head ‘no’ as if to reject the compliment. “I’m just happy Winter doesn’t make me play Mozart all day. She indulges my pretension.”

“You’re definitely the least insufferable musician I’ve met,” you say, subconsciously referencing your ex-husband. 

Now it’s Jaehyun’s turn to scoff. “Not a musician. I just play piano.”

“You’re so humble.”

“Or something like that,” he says. A brief silence settles over the two of you, and you take a moment to drink up his features; His strong jaw and kind eyes. His buttony nose and plump cheeks. You feel your chest tighten, and you rip your gaze away from his visage. 

“I was thinking-”

“If you want-” You and Jaehyun begin speaking at the same time. 

He gestures towards you to continue.

“-about what you said about teaching adult classes. And my lack of musicality…”

“And?” Jaehyun asks with a playful lilt to his voice. A dimple peeks out briefly, vanishing when he feels eyes on him from across the studio.

“I would love to take a few lessons. Y’know, to see if I have any potential.”

“Uh, yeah. Of course. We can definitely start with a few lessons.” He looks at the floor again, and his dichotomy is dizzying- these flashes of nervousness between unabashed confidence. “Could I, uh, have your number?”

“I think that would be a requirement for the logistics of all this,” you say smirking.

“Definitely.”

You put your number in his phone, face warming as you realize there’s other parents still here, but continue nonetheless. It’s inconspicuous really. Nothing out of the ordinary. Then, Melody, Yeri and Seulgi walk up, the three of them smiling widely.

In unison (Seulgi included), they say, “CAN WE HAVE A SLEEPOVER?”

-

As Melody and Yeri build a pillow fort in your living room that evening, you and Seulgi split a bottle of wine. (Merlot, not that it’s important, but it was necessary.) They’re cuties, all snug in their candy colored pajamas, and you balance an ill-fitting sheet mask on your face. Periodically (and through one eye), you check your phone, frantically waiting for a message from Jaehyun despite it only having been a few hours.

“You work fast.” Seulgi says, trying to speak without cracking her tightening mud mask.

“What do you mean?”

“You got his number after one class? I think some of the other moms have been trying for years.”

“It’s strictly business. Piano lessons. Maybe.”

“Yeah, ‘maybe’.”

“I don’t know! Maybe nothing will come of it-” Just as the words leave your mouth, your phone buzzes.

Unknown Number: What’s your availability? 

How formal, you think. You Jaehyun’s contact to your phone, rolling your eyes when you hear Seulgi laugh beside you. 

“Apparently, he works fast too,” she says.

You type quickly, scared to let the fleeting moment pass you by.

You: Wednesdays! Preferably!

Before you press send, you flash your phone at Seulgi. “Are the exclamation points too much?”

Seulgi quirks an eyebrow. “Are you being serious right now?”

“Okay, nevermind.” You press the send button, wincing as you do so. Jaehyun replies almost immediately.

Jaehyun: Wanna start this week?

—

Melody thinks you’re a crazy person, if the look in her eyes is any indication. You’re rushing her to Mark’s car, zipping up her backpack as she waddles down the drive and crawls into the back of his Honda. 

“Mom, what’s the rush?” She asks as you practically push her down the sidewalk.

“No rush! Just wanna get to cleaning.”

Melody scrunches her face in confusion. “Since when do you clean on a Wednesday?”

You ‘tsk’ at her. She’s your kid, alright. “Since now, you little brat.”

“Hey!” 

As Melody gets into the car, Mark looks back from the driver’s seat, amused by your shenanigans. You’re on pretty good terms, all things considered. 

“Got a hot date or something?” Mark inquires. You’ve been divorced for two years now, and joking like this still feels wrong. You wonder if the barely-there resentment that lives under your skin will ever subside.

“No!” you exclaim, face immediately heating up. It’s the truth. It’s not a date.

“You’re a terrible liar.”

Rolling your eyes, you say, “Melody has some worksheets from her math tutor. Please make sure she does it…”

“Don’t change the subject,” Mark retorts, monotone.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Fine. Don’t tell me. It’s not like I’m doing you a favor or something like that...” Mark rolls his eyes. You give Melody a kiss on the cheek and wave them goodbye.

“Thanks, see you guys tomorrow.”

“Bye, mom!”

You rush into your apartment, scrambling to straighten up the odds and ends of your life: Hairbows scattered about, files and papers, dirty dishes. At the last second, you manage to throw your hair into a ponytail, hoping it looks halfway decent.

Then, your doorbell rings. This is actually happening. For a moment, you’re frozen, unsure of how to proceed. As in, your body won’t let you progress towards the front door. Somehow, you walk forward, swinging the door open with an obnoxious smile plastered on your face. Jaehyun stands before you in a t-shirt and jeans, making you realize you’ll get to see him in casual dress every week for the unforeseen future. His shirt is cropped, but just so, the end of it blowing in the late summer wind. 

“Hey!” you say, after your mind has caught up to your body. 

“Hi!” Jaehyun’s voice is somehow deeper than you remember. He sways back and forth on the balls of his feet, looking at the ground nervously.

“Um. C’mon in.”

“Thanks.” The two of you enter your apartment.

This is bizarre. You haven’t really dated since the divorce and you’re not used to having male energy in the house. At least, not for very long.

“You’re hilarious,” says Jaehyun. Had you said that out loud?

“Huh?”

“I hope my ‘male energy' isn't too intrusive,” he jokes. How are you fucking this up already?

“I didn’t mean to say it like that-”

If Jaehyun is offended, he chuckles it off. “It’s okay. I get it,” he says, looking around briefly. Is Melody here?”

“No. She’s with her-,”  you pause for half a second, “-Dad. We’re not together anymore.”

“Oh. Sorry to hear that.” 

“Don’t be. It’s probably for the best.” You shake off the awkwardness. “I’ll show you to the study room. No baby grand here, sorry.”

Jaehyun takes in the defunct office space. There’s a row of mirrors propped up on the opposite wall for when Melody wants to practice ballet and a desk in the back corner. On the wall nearest to the door is a pink keyboard with a little bench in front of it. Jaehyun sets down his satchel next to it, taking a seat. He messes with the settings of the keyboard, playing a few notes after he adjusts it, ultimately nodding to himself when he’s satisfied. You stand in the doorway, presumably waiting for him to summon you.

“Should we get started?” Jaehyun says, patting the space next to him on the bench.

“Uh, yeah. Do you want some water or anything? Snacks? I’m not really sure how this works.”.

“There’s no one way it ‘works’. Just have fun.” 

“Cool.” Might be easier said than done. This kinda feels like torture.  

You take a seat next to Jaehyun, forearm brushing against his momentarily. You scoot away, the electricity too much for you to handle. His side profile exists just in your periphery, and you force yourself to focus on the instrument in front of you.

“Let’s start with the basics. There’s seven notes on a piano that repeat over and over again: A through G.” Jaehyun plays the notes, going up the scale, watching your face intently to see how you’re absorbing the information. 

He nods, signaling for you to try, and you do, fingers clunkily pressing the keys until you reach G. He plays the scale an octave down alongside you, your hands moving in tandem. You allow yourself a brief glance at his fingers, immediately regretting it when your mind wanders about their other uses.

“You good?” Jaehyun pipes.

“Yeah! What’d you say?”

“Try that one more time on your own.”

“Like this?” You ask, voice laden with more innuendo than intended. You play the scale once more, looking to Jaehyun for approval once you finish.

“Good,” he says, and your chest swells with pride. Then, Jaehyun continues. “The note between these two black notes will always be D…”

At the conclusion of the lesson, Jaehyun returns the sheet music to his binder, placing it in his bag and slinging the strap over his shoulder. “How do you feel?”

“Amazing. You’re a great teacher. Uh, how much do I owe you?”

Jaehyun shrugs. “Don’t worry about it.”

“Well, that’s hardly fair,” you dig through your purse set beside you, searching for your wallet. Jaehyun grasps your wrist, effectively halting your motion.

“Who said I’m here to play fair?” he jokes. He bores into your eyes, silently waiting for you to drop the topic. However, you hold firm.

“I’d like to compensate you,” you push.

Jaehyun drops his teacher voice, the pitch dropping an octave or two (if that’s even possible), with his hands still seizing your wrists. “There are other ways for you to do that.” 

Your breath hitches and Jaehyun lets out an airy scoff, that damn dimple of his making a reappearance. You take your hands out of your purse and place them on your lap, eyes wide with shock.  

“I’m kidding!” he says. “Just keep practicing and I’ll consider that my payment.” You make a face. “Seriously!”

“Fine.”

“See you Sunday at the studio?”

“Uh, it’s Mark’s turn to take Melody to practice…” Why is mentioning Mark so awkward?

“Well, I’ll see you next Wednesday then.”

“Yep.”

You walk Jaehyun to the front door. Before he leaves, he turns around. “I really enjoyed this,” he whispers, like it’s a confession he’s getting off his chest.

“Me too.” 

—

The following evening, Seulgi’s at your dining table while Yeri and Melody are (allegedly) doing homework in the living room. Such is becoming a more common occurrence- one you’re quite fond of. You feel like Melody might finally have the sister she’s always wanted. “So you didn’t kiss him?” Seulgi asks.

“Can you keep it down a little bit?!”

“Melody doesn’t care. Look.” She’s braiding Yeri’s hair (and not doing her homework), none the wiser.

“In what world would I have kissed him, Seulgi?”

“The world in which the two of you are all cozied up on that small ass bench, staring into each other’s eyes and-”

“Didn’t know you were such a romantic.”

“This is the most interesting thing that’s happened to me since Irene and I adopted Yeri.”

“It’s not happening to you, it’s happening to me.”

“I’m living vicariously through you, duh!”

“I’ve gathered as much,” you huff.

“How long are you going to pretend you’re not into him?”

“I just want to keep things appropriate. For Melody’s sake.”

“You can’t use her as an excuse forever.”  

You know it’s not Seulgi’s intent, but her words sting. It’s something that’s been swirling around in your mind, but being confronted with the concept makes your chest feel concave. Melody is your world. Your muse. You’d never use her as an excuse. At least, you don’t think you would. 

Seulgi looks at your face and sighs. “How long has it been?”

“Since what?” you ask.

“The divorce.”

“A little over two years.” 

A silence settles over you while Seulgi thinks about her next words a bit more carefully. You gnaw on the inside of your thumb, Jaehyun’s dimples seemingly burned into your eyelids while you try to focus on the conversation at hand. 

Finally, Seulgi pipes up. “You deserve to be happy. I’m sure Melody would agree with me.”

“But I am happy.”

Seulgi guffaws. “Ugh, you’re not listening.”

“I am!”

“Just… don’t deny yourself of this. If it happens, let it. Okay?”

—

Next Wednesday arrives in a flash, but you’re weirdly ready, buzzing with anticipation. Mark is busy this week, so you attempt a discreet pep talk since Melody will be in the apartment when Jaehyun arrives.

“I’m taking piano classes. With Mr. Jeong.” You try to be nonchalant, like this whole thing isn’t eating at you from the inside out.

“From ballet class?”

“Mhm. Here at the apartment. He’s on his way now, actually. ”

“Oh, okay. I’ll hang out in my room.”

“Do you have any… questions about that?” 

“Not really.” That was easy, you think. Then, after a moment Melody says, “Well, actually, I have two!” 

Spoke too soon.

“Shoot.”

“You suck at piano.”

“That’s not a question, but... yeah. That’s why I’m taking lessons.”

Melody’s face twists. “Hm. That makes sense, I guess. One more thing.”

“What’s up, kiddo?”

“Why are you wearing lipstick?”

“Okay, go to your room.”

“What did I do? Mom?” You shut the door in her face. This kid.

The doorbell rings and you promptly answer it. Jaehyun is a vision of summer bliss- like he’s perpetually frozen in it. The irony of such a metaphor being that he’s also kinda always in motion… a flowy shirt, swaying tendrils of hair, the pursing then subsequent relaxing of his plump lips. 

“Hey! How’s it going?” you say. Casual. Cool. Totally not anxious sounding. So far so good.

“It’s going.” The two of you enter the small apartment, the beginnings of a groove blossoming between two souls. You walk breezily beside one another.

“Melody’s here, by the way.” you disclose immediately. “In the other room.”

“Oh, okay. I’ll try to keep it down?”

“No, no. She’ll be fine.”

In the “study” once more, already anticipating the awkward shuffle to the keyboard bench, you gingerly climb to your spot.

—-

After the lesson, you walk Jaehyun to your door once more.

“Uh, you said ‘it’s going’, earlier. Is everything okay?” 

“Yeah, I’m working on a few pieces, some original ones, for a concert I have in December. At Carnegie Hall actually.” Wow.

Then, in a ramble, Jaehyun word-vomits thoughts he must’ve been holding in for weeks now.  “Been a little stressed about it. I was being greedy when I accepted the offer…I mean- I don’t have anything written. I feel like I… stole the opportunity from someone else? If that makes sense.” 

You wonder what the source of his imposter syndrome is. If he composes as well as he plays then… he’s probably excellent.

“You must be a pretty great pianist, then- to get such an offer without a self-composed piece.” 

“Promise and potential can get you far, apparently,” Jaehyun says in a scoff.

“I have neither, and yet-”

“Oh, shut up.”

“You shut up. You’ve gotta know the effect you have on people… with your music.” Not the best save, but an attempt nonetheless. 

Jaehyun rubs the back of his neck. “I’m flattered, truly.”

“Well, if you ever need an unbiased ear…”

“I’ll let you know.”

October 2024

Summer finally bids you farewell, autumn embracing you with shivering arms. The wind whisked leaves flutter in orangey tornadoes, Melody’s sniffles orchestrating your Saturday walk to a cafe. October brought about many joys and ghosts for you, Melody’s birthday, her winter recital on the horizon, the anniversary of your divorce, halloween of course.

“We need to get you some medicine, girlie,” you say after yet another sniffle from the nimble child.

“I’m not sick, I promise.”

“Don’t worry, I  won’t make you miss ballet practice.” She hasn’t missed a single session since August.

The bell digs upon your arrival, and you shuffle into line languidly. “Excited about your recital?”

“Miss Winter says we’re the epitome of Christmas joy.”

“‘Epitome’. Big word. ”

“Mr. Jaehyun!” 

Suddenly, Melody takes off, running into a jubilant embrace with the man who has magically appeared. Well, his entire presence is starting to feel like magic; like you’re being charmed. His summery wake has morphed into a devastatingly domestic coziness. Button-ups swapped for chunky knits and hard-toe boots. The one adorning him now is burgundy, which perfectly complements rosiness of cheeks from the nippy wind.

“Hey stranger,” you say coolly. 

Jaehyun smiles, still locked in Melody’s arms. “My two favorite pupils.”

Melody squeaks at Jaehyun. “I’m telling Yeri!”

“Hey, Cricket, go find us a table.” You send the child on her way, and she scoots into a little booth in the corner of the cafe.

“What’re you doing here?” you inquire while waiting in line together.

“Thought I’d take a stroll through the neighborhood. I’m usually only over here for the studio… and you.”  It’s gross the way the word reverberates through your chest. You. The concept of him doing anything with you in mind… your eyes glaze over a bit. “Winter wanted to go through The Sugar Plum Fairy again.”

“Oh, nice. Mel was craving some hot cocoa and I thought I’d get a latte or something. Little morning treat.”

Jaehyun promptly pulls out his wallet and you shake your head. “No, no, no.” 

Jaehyun simply shrugs. “I’m in the Fall spirit. C’mon.”

“I already owe you enough.”

“You owe me nothing.” Jaehyun pays for your order (which includes a white hot chocolate, cafe latte and pumpkin spice muffin) then joins you and Melody at the table.

“Y’know, I’ve been thinking about learning some pieces Melody could practice to during the off season. Do you think that’s possible?

“Yeah, totally. But could I suggest something else?”

“Of course.”

“We should do something, not piano related sometimes. In between lessons.”

That evening, while Melody is taking her bath, you call Seulgi. She picks up on the third ring.  

“Seulgi. It’s finally happening, I think.” you whisper-yell.

Over the line, you hear Irene attempt to discipline Yeri in the background. Seulgi continues distractedly. “What’s happening?”

You inhale deeply. “I can’t even say the word. I can’t believe this…” 

“Spit it out already.”

“Jaehyun asked to do something not piano related.”

“Oh, a date. You’re hopeless.”

“If I say the ‘D’ word, it’s too real.”

“Clearly,” Seulgi scoffs.

“I wasn’t expecting it to happen so soon.”

You can practically hear Seulgi deadpan. “It’s been three months.”

“I know but…”

“You should invite him to our Halloween thingy. Could be fun,” she suggests.

“That’s not a bad idea actually.”

—

Your apartment is decorated with faux cobwebs and spiders. You finish off your marshmallow cupcakes, complete with food coloring splatters to mimic fake blood. Plastic jack-o-lanterns adorn your entry way, and Melody and Yeri have taken it upon themselves to color code the candy (“To make it easier to pass out to the other kids!” they said.”).

The girls had spent the entire week prior making their costumes; Yeri as a Ghostbuster and Melody as a Ghost. Seulgi is dressed as Buzz Lightyear alongside your Bo Peep. 

When everyone’s dressed, Seulgi takes out her film camera, making you and the girls pose in front of the fake skeletons you have scattered around the place.

“So cute!” she hums.

Then, the doorbell rings. “Mr. Jaehyun!” Yeri and Melody say in unison. You had let the girls know he’d be your trick-or-treat buddy while Seulgi took them to the rich part of town. (“Just mention it casually,” Seulgi had suggested. “If you don’t make it a big deal, neither will Melody.”)

“Mel, can you not jump him like last time, please?” you ask. 

Too late for that. As soon as the door opens, she bounds into his arms. However, you’re too stunned by Jaehyun’s costume to move. Seulgi’s laughing in the background is no help.

Jaehyun is dressed as none other than Toy Story’s Woody.

“No wayyyyy!” Seulgi says. She immediately snaps a picture, both you and Jaehyun going red as the flash immortalizes your shared embarrassment.

“Mr. Jae, you look like a tomato!” Yeri pipes.

“A cowboy tomato.” Melody adds, and the two littles fall into a heap of laughter. 

Seulgi has tears in her eyes. “I’m gonna piss my pants,” she says in between gasps.

Jaehyun rubs his neck nervously. “I guess we’re Toy Story fans…”

“I guess so,” you agree, staring daggers into Seulgi’s skull.

“Well… I brought candy,” he says. 

“Me tooooo!” Irene walks in from the kitchen, dressed as one of the aliens from the franchise. It all feels like one big joke. “No way, honey,” Irene says, kissing Seulgi on the cheek, “I didn’t know we were doing couples’ costumes!”

You sputter. “We’re not-”

Jaehyun waffles similarly. “Oh, no, we’re-”

“Okayyyy!” Seulgi blurts. “Here’s the gameplan. Irene and I will take the girls across town for a few hours, you and Mr. Jaehyun will pass out candy here, then we’ll come back and watch Halloween Town! Sounds good?”

“Amazing.” you sigh, but not without a little bite to your tone.

“YAYYYY! FULL SIZED CANDYBARS!!!” the girls scream. They grab their pillowcases, then Seulgi and Irene whisk them away.

“Maybe we should’ve discussed costumes ahead of time?” you chuckle.

Jaehyun shrugs. “Or maybe it’s fate?”

Fate has a name, apparently. It’s Seulgi Kang.

“Yeah, maybe. Let’s set up shop.” As a team, you place a table and two chairs outside your apartment door. Upon the table, you place your color-coded bowl of candy and sit outside waiting for trick or treaters.

The first few appear; triplets dressed as the Three Little Pigs. “You two are such a cute couple!” the parent says as they pick through the sweets. This time, neither you or Jaehyun make an effort to correct the woman.

“Happy Halloween!”

When there’s a lull in kids, Jaehyun pipes up. ‘I’ll be honest…” he starts. “This wasn’t exactly what I had in mind when I suggested we hang out.”

The monster claw in the candy bowl jolts out, startling you a bit and you chuckle. “You don’t enjoy serving the community?”

“No, I love it. Kind of an untraditional outing- if this can be considered such.”

“This was Seulgi’s idea, technically. I’m starting to think the costumes might’ve been her doing…”

Jaehyun scoffs. “She sent me an entire moodboard, conveniently leaving out the fact that you’d be…” He scans your outfit, eyes lingering on your corset. 

You simply sigh. “Well, that settles that.”

Another kid walks up in a Bluey costume, clearly being dragged around by their older sibling who’s dressed as Darth Vader.

“Fun pair,” you compliment.

The little kid beams, sporting a smile with two front teeth missing. “TRICK OR TREAT!” You coo at her adorable lisp. 

After handing the two of them some candy, you swear you hear the teen mumble “lame” as they walk away.

“You’re dressed as the lamest Star Wars character, kid!” Jaehyun shouts after him. You burst out into laughter, eyes crinkling on the edges while you’re doubled over. 

“I actually can’t.”

Jaehyun tsks. “Brat.”

“Hey, we’ve all been there. Just a little too old to be parading around like that. His parents probably forced the poor kid.”

He shrugs. “So much for serving the community.”

When it feels as though most of the trick or treaters have trickled out, Jaehyun and you pack up everything and make your way inside. “Do you want a Beetlejuice cocktail?”

“Yeah, sure.” As Jaehyun goes to sit on your couch, he takes in the decorations and lights around him. “Wow, you really love Halloween, huh?” 

“Mel really gets me in the spirit.” You join him, setting your drinks down on the coffee table and settling in. 

“Did you always want to be a parent?” Jaehyun asks.

You ponder this for a moment. “Hm… not exactly. Like, I never imagined myself as one. But I was so in love, and everyone sorta expected it from me…”

When the air in the room thickens, you realize you’ve never said that out loud before.

“Oh.” Jaehyun pipes quietly.

“But, like, when I saw Melody for the first time… It was like we chose each other. We found each other unexpectedly. When she was born, I just started crying. Because she was breathing and squinting and she smelled like such a baby! And she was just so little…

And then everything fell into place. I couldn’t wait to see her grow into her own person. Have her own thoughts, yell and scream at me. Ask me endless questions. Hug me. Annoy me. She was this embodiment of possibility. Someone I was ecstatic to pour myself into…

I don’t know if any of that made sense.”

“That’s beautiful,” Jaehyun nods. “She’s really a great kid, y’know. You can tell how much she adores you.” He pats the hand you’re resting on the couch, as if to commend you for a job well done. To comfort you through your vulnerability. 

“What about you?” you ask. 

“Me?”

“Yeah. Do you want to be a parent?”

“Funnily, I always thought I’d be a teen father.” At this, you snort. “I’ve always seen that for myself. The timing just hasn’t worked out yet.”

“Is that why you work with kids?” 

“That kinda chose me as well. Winter called in a favor one day, and I just kept kinda coming back. Started lessons for extra money, then it became a passion of mine. Pouring myself into someone else. Seeing my students reach their full potential. Watching them become obsessed with music, like me. And now it’s led to this huge concert. Who would’ve thought?”

The two of you sit idly for a bit, holding hands and basking in each other’s presence. 

“Y’know, I wasn’t gonna let Melody do ballet at first. I was scared it would ruin her body image, or give her low self esteem… Then she showed me a dance she learned on YouTube. I saw something in her eyes… as cheesy as that sounds. I just couldn’t say no.”

“Well, I’m glad you said yes. We wouldn’t have met otherwise.” Jaehyun leans in towards you, taking a tendril of hair and tucking it behind your ear. “This wig is pretty legit,” he says in reference to your Bo Peep costume. 

“Seulgi was very strict about bringing her vision to life,” you chuckle.

“If we’re sticking to the canon, Woody is her love interest. Right?” That stupid smirk of his appears, dimple on full display. You can’t help but laugh at his smarminess. 

“Mhm.”

Jaehyun’s eyes flicker down to your lips. Shyly, you look at your lap, fiddling with your fingers. Slowly, he takes your chin in his hands, gently guiding your gaze back up to his and attempting to close the gap between you.

“This hat is fucking ridiculous.” He shucks it off with an exasperated sigh, and crashes into you, lips moving with the fervor of a man starved. Yet, despite the laden passion, his touch is gentle. Jaehyun’s nose bumps against yours occasionally, each time resulting in an amused breath escaping him. His left hand caresses your cheek, smoothes down your neck, then makes the path downward to rest at your hip. 

Instinctively, you pull at the hair at the nape of his neck and Jaehyun whines. Your stomach twists, and you lift up your leg to straddle him, melting as his hands explore your thighs almost immediately.

Breathless, Jaehyun plants his hands on both sides of your waist and guides you to start rolling them. You oblige him, tilting your head to bite at the shell of his ear. 

“Please…” is all Jaehyun can manage to squeak out as he tries to increase the friction between you, hips moving to meet yours like uncoordinated college students. You grind down a bit harder, gasping the only thing orchestrating your heated motions. 

Ding Dong. Fuck. 

You jump off of him, wiping the saliva from your lips and straightening out your fluffy dress. Jaehyun’s face is a mess of pink lipstick and bite marks, not to mention his bright red ears. 

“Bathroom. Now,” you say, jumping into parent mode. You push him out of the living room, and run to the door, hoping your quickness will stave off any suspiciousness. 

Yeri and Melody are beaming. “MOVIE TIMEEEE!” 

“How’d you do?” you ask the girls.

Yeri and Melody pour out their candy on the living room rug. “FULL. SIZED. CANDY-BARSSSS!” 

“They did this bit where Yeri pretends to catch Melody in her vacuum. Killed every time.” Seulgi muses.

Irene looks around. “Where’s Jaehyun?” 

“Uh. Bathroom.” you respond.

As if on cue, Jahyun walks back in, looking as normal as possible, if only a little flushed. 

“No hat?” Seulgi inquires, 

Jaehyun stammer. “Got hot.”

You interject in quivering yelp. “DID SOMEONE SAY MOVIE TIME???!”

—

December 2024 

“Okay, Cricket. Let’s finish this up.” You take a stiff-bristle brush, dip it in a cup of water, and smooth Melody’s hair back into a slick ponytail. Taking the strands of it into your hand, you twist until they begin to swivel and form a bun at the crown of her head.  Finally, you pin a white glittery bow at the bun’s base. The perfect little snowflake before you, complete with white dots on her cheekbones to complete her wintery costume. 

The ballet company’s production of The Nutcracker is tonight, and Melody couldn’t be more excited. She sports a white leotard with matching tutu to boot, and you rush to finish packing her dance bag. 

“Yell out the list to me, darling,” you request of your daughter.

“Jazz shoes. Pointe shoes. Jacket. Hat. Scarf. Water bottle towel. Camera,” Melody says confidently. 

“Okay, let’s get outta here!”

When you enter the community theater, the buzz of the room instantly warms you up from outside’s brutality. Little boys and girls dressed in frilly outfits flutter about the backstage area. Stressed parents attempt to temper their overactive children in whispers commands. Winter appears as the beauty she is, looking like a porcelain swan. (Her name is apt.) She gathers the kids with tenured expertise, simply clapping her hands three times to be met with instant silence.

“My lovelies,” she begins, “I am so proud of the progress you’ve made this season, and you should be just as proud of yourselves. Be lost in the world. Hold your head up. Keep your chest high. This is your time. Enjoy it,” she says.

Melody hangs on to her every word.  

“Hey, Bo Peep,” a buoyant voice chirps out from behind you.

You groan. “Seulgi, not today please...”

“I can’t help it, it’s my best work yet.” She pulls you into an embrace, both Irene and Yeri in tow. 

“Mom, can we take a picture?” Yeri says. She’s dressed as a Doll, her delicate makeup veering only slighting into the uncanny valley. 

“Of course!” Seulgi says. 

The girls stand in position for their photo, smiling wider than you’ve ever seen anyone smile. You take a mental picture yourself, wanting this to last forever. Your Cricket. Your Melody. She’s grown taller in stature, facial features becoming more and more defined by the day. You see Mark in her and, for the first time in a while, it doesn’t hurt. You’re already on the brink of tears, and the show hasn’t even begun yet. 

“Awe, don’t cry!” Irene says.

Swiping a hand over your cheek, you sniffle, smiling though the heartache. Melody runs to give you a hug. “Break a leg out there, kiddo,” you tell her. She simply nods.

Suddenly, Winter’s booming voice echoes through the theater. “Places!”

When you’re in your seat and the curtains open, you’re captivated by the magic of the set. Then you realize, Jaehyun isn’t playing the piano. It’s Winter.

Jaehyun’s concert. It’s also tonight. You can’t believe you let the date slip your mind.

As the curtains open, Waltz of the Snowflakes ripples through the theater, Winter’s nimble hands created the world before you. Melody twinkles in the middle, eyes crinkled from how hard she’s smiling. She extends her arms fully, one of the few girls actually dancing en pointe, as she leads the flurry of “snowflakes” across the stage. The show whips past you in a blur, and you’re shedding even more tears as the kids bow during the curtain call. Seulgi snaps pictures as you hear Irene sniffling. Melody runs off the stage to you, leaping into your arms.

“My little snowflake!”

“Did you like it?” 

“I loved it, baby!” You look at the time. Thirty minutes until Jaehyun is on. If you catch a cab now…

“Melody?” You look into your child’s eyes as you hold her firmly on your hip. 

“Yes?” 

“You know you’re my world, right?”

“Of course.”

“Mr. Jaehyun has a show, and I really want to go see it. Is that okay with you?”

“Yeah! Can I come with you?”

You scrunch your nose. “Um…”

—

Knees bouncing in the back of the cab, you watch as the clock ticks down. Fifteen minutes until Jaehyun’s show. Traffic is awful, having not moved in quite some time now. The pit in your stomach worsens.

“I thought Mr. Jaehyun’s show was tomorrow…” Melody says.

“I think I mixed up the days.”

“Let’s walk.”

“Mel, you’re a genius.”

Abruptly, you hop out of the cab, shoving a $50 bill through the little hole in front of you. “Keep the change, dude.”

The air is unforgiving and the sidewalk is slippery, but you plop Melody on your back and jog the few blocks to Carnegie Hall. You make quick work of the small talk at the box office and take your seat just in time to see Jaehyun take the stage. He’s a vision to behold in all black. Black hair, black shirt, black pants, black piano... He’s illuminated by a single spotlight, the contrast drawing your eyes to him and him alone. His hands hover above the keys and you’re transported back to your lessons; Jaehyun right next to you, his patient eyes and calming voice making your blood molten. You feel the warmth spread to your ears, heart pounding in them, like a metronome counting Jaehyun in. 1… 2… 3… You see Jaehyun inhale, then he begins:

Baby, tell me your favorite love song

I wanna sing it with you

Baby, show me the streets where you come from

I wanna walk 'em with you

Take it right from the start

Tell me who you are

Every piece of your heart

Every bruise and scar

You let out a shaky breath, tears welling up in your eyes.

I'm gonna love you completely…

The tears fall slowly then, suddenly, come pouring out of you, sobs tearing through your body until you’re doubled over. Melody simply bores into you, a calm hand on your shoulder as you try to quiet your blubbering. When you look at your daughter, you know she knows. The depth of your feelings. How you’ve been hiding this part of you. The acceptance of you moving forward and moving on from her father. You might be crazy, but her eyes seem to say, “It’s okay.”

After the show, you make your way through the crowd, Melody clutching to the hem of your jacket when you spot Jaehyun amongst the people. 

“Jae-”

Before you can get the rest of his name out, he pulls you into an embrace, lips melting into yours. He pulls back for a moment and whispers, “You made it.”

“I ran three blocks for you. With Mel on my back,” you chuckle.

“Insanity… What’d you think? Was it worth it?” And yet again, that damn dimple appears, and you’re anxious to wipe the smirk right off his face. 

“You’re breathtaking,” you say earnestly, no need in beating around the bush any longer. 

“You can say that again,” Jaehyun beams, crashing into your lips once more. You return his affection, the world around you fading away for a moment, until your daughter tugs on your jacket.

“I know you’re in love, or whatever, but I’m hungry,” she pouts.

“Melody-” you start. 

Jaehyun interjects. “Right, right. Chinese food?”

“Can Yeri come?”

“Whatever you say, Cricket.”

a/n: thanks for reading! i'm so happy to be back here writing!! missed it so much! feel free to leave your thoughts below! <3

[oneshotwonderz]

The Dani method | Daniela x female!reader | College AU | Part 1

Pairing: Daniela x female!reader

Genre: College AU, tutoring, spanish lessons, flirting

CW: None just flirting heh

Request: 'You’re on the verge of failing your Spanish class so your professor assigns you a tutor to help you out. She’s instantly attracted to you and can sense that you feel the same so she starts teasing/flirting with you during your lessons by teaching you flirty phrases under the guise of “helping you learn”.

Authors note: Thank you for the request! And thank you google translate for giving me a Spanish lesson :) should there be a part 2?

You hadn’t meant to cry in your professor’s office.

It wasn’t a full breakdown, but there were definitely tears, and maybe a pathetic, “Please, I just can’t lose my scholarship.”

And that was how you ended up here.

Sitting at the corner table of the campus café, textbook open, fresh notebook page blank except the date, nerves churning in your stomach. You’d expected someone awkward and serious, probably a senior who took academia too seriously with a color-coded highlighter system and a strict attendance policy.

You were ten minutes early. She was fifteen minutes late.

You were rereading the same sentence in your grammar workbook for the fourth time when a shadow fell over your table, followed by a voice that was all heat and honey.

“¿Eres mi estudiante desesperada?”

You blinked up, and forgot how to breathe.

She was not what you expected. Not even close.

Tight black tank top. Loose low-rise jeans. Hoops that caught the light just right. Her hair scraped back into a high ponytail, sharp winged eyeliner, and lip gloss that glinted when she smirked.

“I- uh- maybe?”

She laughed, low and smoky. “That means, ‘Are you my desperate student?’ by the way.”

“Oh. Great.” You wanted to melt into the campus café floor. “Off to a strong start.”

She slid into the seat across from you and leaned back like she owned the place. “I’m Daniela. Officially your Spanish tutor. Unofficially…” She gave you a slow once-over, smirk deepening, “...we’ll see.”

You coughed, trying to remember how to speak.

She flipped open your notebook, scanned the pathetic scribbles of vocab and panic-highlighted verbs. “Dios. You really are desperate.”

You groaned and dropped your head in your hands. “If I fail this class, I lose my scholarship.”

“Then we better make sure you pass,” she said, tapping the notebook with her pen. “Let’s start simple. Hola, me llamo Y/N.”

You repeated it slowly.

“Cute,” she murmured, her voice just a little too soft. “Now try ¿Cómo estás?”

“¿Cómo estás?”

“Muy bien.” Her smile curled wider. “Now the fun part.”

You frowned. “The what?”

“I like to make lessons... immersive,” she said, her tone entirely not innocent. “So we’re gonna practice things you’d say in real conversations.”

You raised a brow. “Like, in a classroom?”

She leaned forward slightly, eyes sparkling. “No, like… on a date.”

That made your heart skip. “I don’t think ‘date in Spanish’ is in the syllabus.”

She grinned. “It is now. Repeat after me, Eres muy guapa.”

Your pen froze. “That doesn’t sound like ‘Where is the bathroom?’”

“Because it’s not,” she said. “It means ‘You’re very pretty.’”

Heat crept up your neck. You tried to keep it casual. “Is that something I’ll use in class?”

She tilted her head, voice dripping amusement. “Depends who you’re talking to.”

You scribbled it down anyway.

“Estás atractiva.”

You repeated it cautiously.

She leaned in again, smirking. “That means‘You’re hot.’”

“That feels… advanced.”

“Only if you’re shy,” she said, eyes flickering down to your lips for a second too long. “Now, picture this, you're on a blind date in spain and I’m your date. Let’s practice.”

You stared. “Wait, what?”

“Trust me. Language through context. Okay.” She cleared her throat theatrically and clasped her hands. “Hola, buenas noches. Me alegra verte.”

You fumbled the response. “Hola... um, igual...?”

“Igualmente,” she corrected, lips twitching into a smile. “You walk in looking like that, and I’d say Te ves increíble esta noche.”

You gave her a flat look. “What does that mean?”

“You look incredible tonight.”

You blinked. “Are you just flirting with me right now?”

She shrugged, entirely unbothered. “We’re practicing. You’re doing great. Tu sonrisa me vuelve loca.”

You hesitated, then repeated it, your accent clumsy but passable.

“Nice,” she said, voice suddenly lower, slower. “That means, ‘Your smile drives me crazy.’ Which it does, by the way.”

You choked on air. “Dani- ”

She cut you off smoothly, eyes glittering. “Estás coqueteando mucho conmigo. Repeat that.”

You gave her a look but played along. “Estás coqueteando mucho conmigo.”

“Good,” she purred. “That means, ‘You’re flirting with me a lot.’ Very useful for when someone like me is trying to seduce you.”

You bit your lip, unable to hold back your smile this time. “And what if I’m flirting back?”

She grinned. “Then I’d say Al fin. Pensé que no te dabas cuenta.”

You blinked. “That means?”

“Finally. I thought you hadn’t noticed.”

You could feel your face heating again.

The café’s closing bell chimed. You hadn’t even noticed the time.

Dani slid your notebook toward you and scribbled a short vocab list in looping, lazy handwriting. “We’ll pick up on Saturday. Read this over. Practice your pronunciation.”

She stood, slinging her bag over one shoulder. But instead of walking away, she paused behind you and leaned down, close enough to brush your hair from your shoulder.

Her voice dipped into a whisper, her lips just inches from your ear. “Si sigues mirándome así, no responderé por mis actos.”

Your skin lit up with goosebumps.

You turned to her. “What did you just say?”

She winked. “Guess you’ll have to learn that one next week, cariño.”

And just like that, she was gone, leaving behind your racing heart, a notebook full of suspiciously flirty phrases… and the very real motivation to study.

Authors note: Should I make a part 2? “Si sigues mirándome así, no responderé por mis actos.” = "If you keep looking at me like that, I won't be responsible for my actions."

[oddballwriter]

General Date Everything Hector Headcanons

Summary: This is pretty self explanatory. Hector lives rent free in my brain I love him so much that’s my wife right there.

Warnings: Hector being Hector. Nothing much in my eyes, but if there’s something then feel free to tell me

He gets better at accepting himself and how he looks with the help of you and everyone else. He still struggles with his self esteem and being more social sometimes, but he really is getting better. You help him a lot by helping reassure him that no one is looking at him in a negative way and that you like his features and how/who he is

He flusters very very easy, we know this. Any complaint you give him makes him redder than a tomato and heat up like the summer sun. You mention that you find his crooked nose cute and quirky literally anything like that and he was ready to just blow up right there. Not to mention anytime you flirt with him he’s also just completely shutting down from how flustered he is. You drive him crazy. You really do.

He struggles with giving physical affection. Not because he doesn’t want to hold you, trust me he wants to hold you more than anything in the whole world, but it’s just that he’s scared that he’s going to come across as clingy and scare you off. He’s always worried that you’re going to finally find something that makes you leave him for the dust. You’re free to give him as much physical affection as you want though, it’s always a privilege to him and he will cherish it deeply. Feel free to just smother him, he’ll be there hanging on your arm. He’ll get more comfortable and confident to give you affection eventually, but he likes when you do it more.

I’m serious though, you can love on him all you want. Give him kisses, hug him, caress his cheeks and hair. He’ll melt. He honestly longs for your touch and will always be waiting for you. Is he touch staved? Yes very. Please give him some love. He especially likes it if you kiss his face. It reinforces his road to accepting himself.

He actually likes any form of love language you have. Words of affirmation? He might get a little red in the face but sure! Acts of service? You really don’t have to do anything for him but the fact that you want to do them because your love for him compels you to do it means a lot to him. Gift giving? Literally everything you give him is a holy relic now. Quality time? The fact that you want to spend most of the time in your day and night with him means so much to him.

(Post realization) He’s little chubby. I’m sorry but I’m not sorry he’s chubby to me. He’s got a little tummy. He’s extra soft for you <3 More to love and cuddle at night

Plus he’s warm. He actually runs so warm even after you realize him, at first it was because when he’s happy his heating system in his body acts up but after he becomes human he’s just naturally really warm. He doesn’t really feel it himself but when he hugs you it’s nice and warm. Keeps you nice and warm on cold nights.

Snorts when he laughs. He’s insecure about it at first but learns to like it too when it makes you giggle or laugh because you think it’s cute. He does snore when he sleeps though. Not super loud, but it’s there. It’s like a moderately light noise. You could totally get used to it.

His hair is very soft and actually well kept you could definitely run your hands through it just fine. His curls are just really tight. You never have to worry about it being crunchy or coarse. He takes excellent care of it. And he really likes it when you do play with and pet his hair when you’re cuddling. Like REALLY likes it. He would definitely stay put if it meant you kept doing it

Could listen to you talk for forever. You could talk his ear off about anything at all and he’d be listening to your every word and remember everything you said. Like yes please tell him about the weird dream you had last night, or the rude lady at the grocery store today, or how you think it’s funny that your neighbor seems to judge you for going out to get the mail in the morning still in your pajamas sometimes but you’ve seen him out on his porch in just his boxers and an old shirt before. You could actually talk about the process of a snail moving in great detail and he’d just be like “uh huh :)”.

Obviously he’s a massive lover boy but he somehow gets worse when you get together. You’re everything to him. You are truly the sun, moon, earth, stars, universe, and heaven to him and he’s just a tiny little ant that you noticed somehow. He’s could, and probably has, cried over how much he loves you. It’s almost a scientific anomaly how much love for you he’s actually able to store in his body. If love could conduct energy he could fuel a nuclear radiator. Volt and Eddie would need to watch tf out.

[an-abysma1-0bserver]

Disenchanted

Pairing: Bob Reynolds/Sentry x F!Reader

Summary: You and Bob welcomed your first child! You wanted to be happy—you were, deep down, you were sure of it!—but emotions are running high, making this new experience just a little bit more difficult.

Warnings: Postpartum depression and mental health struggles. Possible inaccuracies surrounding PPD. Reader is struggling. Mentions of pregnancy. Mentions of abuse. Angst and some fluff. Language (probably) and crying (definitely). My boy Bob is trying his best.

Author’s Note: I don’t own the MCU or Marvel Comics in any capacity. The franchise and its characters belong to their rightful owners. Similarly, I don’t own any of the gifs or pictures I use for my fics. All I own are the fic ideas.

I’d also like to apologize for disappearing. I will try and get on a better schedule, but I hope you enjoy this!

Word Count: 1,796

Masterlist

You were supposed to be happy. No—you were happy. You are happy. Weren’t you? Deep down, you were sure of it. After all, how could you not be? You’d just brought a baby into the world—your baby. That’s supposed to be the happiest moment of your life. And it was. Or at least, it should have been. Right?

Right?

You and Bob had finally welcomed your baby—a little girl named Lucy. The pregnancy had been tough, with more downs than ups, but the most important thing was that Lucy had arrived safe and sound. You made it through labor like a champ, and Bob was by your side every step of the way, doing everything he could to support and comfort you.

But that initial amazement had shifted somewhere along the way, turning into something…different. Something heavier. Almost painful. And no matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t shake it. Every time Lucy cried, it felt like your emotions short-circuited—spiking all at once. The sound, the pitch, the sheer volume—it wasn’t just noise; it was overwhelming, grating, like it was scraping against your nerves.

Still, you went to her every time. Even when her cries made you cry. Even when they sent your anxiety spiraling, left your chest tight and your thoughts spinning. And then came the guilt—for feeling that way at all. The shame for not being stronger. The self-loathing that crept in afterward, whispering that you weren’t cut out for this.

Sometimes, it felt like you just wanted the Earth to swallow you whole—to disappear beneath the weight of it all. But even that thought felt indulgent. So instead, you moved on autopilot, carried by guilt and obligation, just going through the motions. Because that’s what you were supposed to do. Get through it. Keep going.

Besides, it’s not like Lucy could help it. She was a newborn, for Christ’s sake—completely dependent, helpless in every way. She couldn’t feed herself, soothe herself, or even make sense of the world around her. Of course she cried. That was all she could do.

You knew that. You reminded yourself constantly.

It would be years before she’d have even a sliver of independence, and somehow, that thought didn’t bring comfort—it made your chest tighten even more. Thinking that far ahead only pulled you deeper into the spiral. You couldn’t even make it through today without unraveling. How were you supposed to survive years of this?

Until one day you finally snapped. And you just…shut down.

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

You hadn’t left your room all day. Not despite every cry from Lucy and every worried glance Bob cast in your direction—but because of them. You just couldn’t do it. You felt frozen. Overwhelmed. Like the weight of everything had finally settled on your chest, and now you couldn’t move beneath it. The guilt gnawed at you with every passing hour. You heard her cries. You knew Bob was trying to hold it together for all of you, but even that made you feel worse. You were supposed to be there. You were supposed to show up.

But you didn’t. You couldn’t.

And in the silence between her sobs and the creak of the floorboards outside your door, one thought repeated itself louder than anything else: I’m a failure.

By early afternoon, after Bob had finally gotten Lucy down for a nap, he gently knocked on the bedroom door and peeked inside. His chest tightened at the sight of you—curled beneath a heap of blankets, motionless, your back to the world.

He stepped in quietly, the soft creak of the floorboards the only sound. He knew that feeling—maybe not exactly, but close enough to recognize the signs. That heavy, crushing weight. The kind of sadness that didn’t look like crying, but like stillness. Like absence. A tidal wave of nothingness that filled every inch of you until even breathing felt like a task.

He’d been there before. And he knew—once it pulled you under, it was hard to find the surface again.

Bob stepped quietly into the bedroom, gently closing the door behind him with a soft click. His socked feet made barely a sound as he crossed the floor, moving slowly until he was beside the bed.

You didn’t move. Didn’t speak. You just lay there, staring blankly ahead—eyes bloodshot, glassy, as if you weren’t really seeing anything at all.

Bob knelt down beside you, his brows drawn tight, lips pressed into a thin, worried line. He’d noticed the way you’d been withdrawing, piece by piece, day by day. At first, he hadn’t said anything. He told himself you were just exhausted—you had just given birth, after all. That kind of transformation would leave anyone drained. Your body had been through hell, your hormones all over the place. Feeling emotional, detached, overwhelmed—that was all normal. Wasn’t it?

At least, that’s what he’d been telling himself. Until now.

Bob just wanted to help however he could.

“How can I help?”

His voice was quiet—careful—but full of warmth, the kind of softness that made your bottom lip tremble. You didn’t answer. You couldn’t. A few silent tears slid down your cheeks before you even realized you were crying.

Bob moved without hesitation, instinctively brushing them away with the pad of his thumb. His other hand gently cradled your face, grounding you with his touch. And that was all it took—the dam broke. A hiccuped sob escaped your lips, raw and shaky, as your body finally gave in to the weight it had been carrying.

And still, he stayed right there with you.

“I’m a terrible mother,” you whispered, your voice raw and shaky, barely more than a rasp.

It cracked under the weight of everything you’d been holding in—shame, fear, exhaustion. The words hung heavy in the air, filled with hurt, with quiet desperation, as if saying them out loud somehow made them more real.

Bob didn’t flinch. His hand remained on your cheek, thumb still gently brushing your skin, as if reminding you he was still there—really there—and not going anywhere.

Bob shook his head, shaggy hair falling into his eyes as he leaned in closer.

“Don’t say that,” he murmured. His voice was still gentle, but there was a steady firmness beneath it—quiet, but resolute. The kind of tone that didn’t leave room for doubt.

“You’re amazing,” he said, eyes searching yours. “You’ve always been amazing.”

There was no hesitation in his voice, no cracks, no second-guessing. Just love—steady, patient, and unwavering.

You shook your head, sniffling as fresh tears spilled down your cheeks.

“I just—I don’t know if I can do this,” you choked out, your voice catching on the words. “I want to be a good mom, but…”

The sentence hung unfinished as your breath hitched and you tried to steady yourself, pulling in a shaky inhale that didn’t quite settle the ache in your chest.

“I don’t know why I can’t do this,” you whispered, more to yourself than to him, the admission fragile and aching—as if saying it out loud made it harder to deny.

Bob leaned in, resting his forehead gently against yours. He didn’t say anything—not right away. He just stayed there, holding you, letting you cry. Letting the tears come, even as you tried to swallow them down, tried to force yourself back into composure. His eyes closed, and he exhaled slowly, grounding you both in the quiet space between breaths.

But he didn’t rush you. He didn’t ask you to be okay. He simply stayed close, offering the kind of comfort that didn’t need words—just presence.

“You know,” Bob said quietly after a long pause, “before I met you—before Yelena and the others—I never thought I’d be…anything.”

You looked up at him, blinking through the blur of tears. He had pulled back just enough for you to see his face clearly, and for a moment, he didn’t try to hide the vulnerability in his eyes. It shimmered there, raw and unguarded.

“I wanted to be a hero,” he said, voice softer now. “Someone like the Avengers, you know? That’s why I signed up for the Sentry program. I thought maybe if I did something big, something important...it would mean I mattered.”

He paused, his jaw tightening slightly.

“My dad wasn’t a good person. And my mom...she used to say I only made things worse when I tried to help.” He gave a small, bitter laugh. “That’s why I started using. I just wanted to shut everything off. The pain, the guilt, the feeling that I’d never be good enough—never be anything.”

There was no self-pity in his tone. Just honesty. The kind that made you feel less alone.

Your bottom lip trembled again.

“But I still wanted to help,” Bob said, his voice low, steady. “Even after everything—I needed to. It was the one thing that made me feel like maybe I wasn’t broken.”

He glanced down at his hands for a moment, as if remembering something he couldn’t quite say aloud.

“Whatever serum they gave me…it amplified everything—my strength, my senses…but also the darkness. The fear. The anger.” He looked back at you, his expression caught between regret and resolve. “If I wanted to help people, I also risked hurting them. Every time I used my powers, there was a chance I’d lose control…that the Void would come through.” He swallowed hard.

“So they sidelined me,” he said quietly. “Told me I was too unstable. I needed control. Help.”

His words didn’t carry bitterness—just the echo of a wound that had never fully healed.

“Bob—”

“I—I guess what I’m trying to say is,” he stumbled over his words, voice gentle but earnest, “you’re not a failure. Your body went through a huge change—a massive one. You brought a baby into this world—our baby.”

He cupped your face again, his eyes full of quiet love and unwavering care as he took you in.

“If you need extra help, I’ll do whatever it takes. Whatever you need.” He took a steadying breath, then continued. “And if you feel like you need to talk to someone—really talk—then do it. Whether it’s me, a therapist, or someone else, don’t keep it bottled up. Because if you do, it becomes a void inside you. And that void...it’ll consume you before you even realize what’s happening.”

His words hung between you, heavy but true—a lifeline offered in the midst of the darkness.

Another sob escaped you. Your hand covered his, his forehead pressing against yours again. “I’m sorry,” you whimpered.

“Never apologize,” he replied softly, planting a tender kiss on the crown of your head. “Let’s focus on getting you feeling better, okay?”

There was warmth in his words—a promise, a steady anchor in the storm you were both weathering together.

You nodded.

[laserbobcat]

My life has been so incredibly stressful lately that I tend to sleep 4 hours a day max. Guess what, it's a deatj spiral.

They have a name for that in some languages, but the phenomenon of "my life is shit and I have little control over it, so I take on my sleep hours at night to do something that actually makes me happy and then suffer from lack of sleep" has been my experience for so long now. My anxieties calm down at night so I can relax and draw. But I can't sleep during the day, I keep waking up with the feeling that someone will barge in my room and beat me with a stick cause I forgot to fill some kind of paperwork or do some kind of chore (lol childhood trauma) I feel like there's always something or someone taking my time and bam it's 11pm and the day is gone with no fun in it. And when there's nothing to do, I still manage to make the day miserable because I worry so much that it paralyzes me.

Anyway, my point being, I'm forcing myself to sleep at night despite the terribly sad feeling of loss it causes, and guess what, I feel a bit better. I'm gonna prioritize calming down my nervous system over absolutely everything else or I'll end up with a heart attack at 40.

I think we all need to learn to be happy despite the overwhelming feeling of fear and uncertainty that is honestly felt in the entire world right now. I think the key is finding what your core values are and following them no matter what. I kinda gave up on the idea that I can have peace and quiet coming from outside. The overlords are at war, those of us in countries without battles are gaslit into thinking there's none there, but they just take sneakier, but still awful aspects. And we are not allowed the clarity or honesty of a war declaration, so we all cope and try to keep our lives going while everything gets worse and worse. The status quo is heaven for said overlords. They can do whatever the fuck they want as everyone keeps being tired, overwhelmed and isolated.

Idk, I just don't want to cope anymore. It doesn't work. I'm not gonna get a gun and start shooting politicians mainly because my aim would be terrible. But I'll start by stepping off of the rat wheel, and calm down, and take care of myself. Calm people are harder to manipulate.

I'm trying to see more people and get out of my house. And I'm gonna try to get help, for my battles with scammers, because there are actually people helping out there. People with communities to rely on are less miserable- and harder to manipulate.

And while the news is just a vast campaign of fear mongering made to keep everyone hopeless and placated, there are alternative sources out there, like people who make entire channels with good news, and that gives a little bit of hope back. These good news tend to be drowned, because they make you think that things can be changed. People who feel like things can change and that they have agency are harder to manipulate.

Anyway, I'm gonna try to be happier, I don't want to die and look back and be like "Jeez I sure did worry my whole life instead of living it whelp" at this point I'll just give up on the hope that things will calm down around me, and just start living despite the horrors. Keeping a clear head despite fear. Hopefully. S'not gonna be easy. But idk I didn't go through so much therapy and change to give up now.

This video about uncertainty helped a lot, I need to listen to it again with my journal to organize my thoughts, think of answers, and set up new habits. I highly recommend watching it. People say I'm "wise and approachable" I owe most of my clarity and understanding of myself, people, and finding the right words to help, from her work.

[daemonbussy]

would u write general headcanons for lux and skips pls? thank you <3

first time interacting btw :p i love ur writing !!

Ofc <3 thank you for the compliment and the request! ❤️ He/it pronouns used for Skips, of course

Lux

• Their normal body temperature is higher than a human's normal temp. Not feverish, just noticably warmer. This doesn't change much once they're realized

• Lux has a habit of making various facial expressions whenever they're bored or anxious

• Is the kind of person who uses all sorts of different skin and hair care products. Most of which are fancy brands and supplied from sponsors

• They always smell like honey and champagne

• On the topic of scents; Lux actually hates a lot of the perfumes and colognes that brands send them. Sure, they advertise them on stream for that sweet, sweet sponsorship money, but they gag if they try to wear them any other time…

• Lux is touch starved, but they rarely let any of their brief "partners" (if you can really call them that…) get cuddly or touchy

• Calls people 'bitch' as a term of endearment. Honestly, if they don't call you that, you might be on their shit-list…

• Despite how engaged they are with social media, Lux is not tech savvy. Mac always finds them back in the office asking for help, or just to browse settings and try out new things for their streams

• Definitely gets along with Curt and Rod. The 3 of them throw shade all of the time. No one is safe — inside or outside of the house

• Highly prefers cats over dogs, even though they have a minor cat allergy

• Exercise isn't their favourite thing in the world, but they do sort of enjoy yoga? Kind of? It's a love-hate relationship 🙃

• Do not interrupt them while they're taking pictures of their food. Do. Not. None have lived to tell the tale after such an incident

Skips/Shadowlord

• Skips is the kind of friend who will always have your back. He doesn't like when it's friends get bullied or receive hate

• Also the kind of guy who doesn't mind getting physical with his friends. ie: hugging, casual cuddling, sitting in each other's laps, sleeping in the same bed at a sleepover

• Loves to make playlists for people. Sharing music is one of his love languages

• A certified connoisseur of snacks foods 👌

• Man's hair routine is insane. Not for its complexity, but for the amount of time that he spends styling it and making it look cool

• His hair is also quite floofy. If you promise not to mess up his hard work, he might let you touch it

• Definitely has one of those "keep out" signs on it's bedroom door

• Bright lights give him headaches, so Skips prefers for the blinds and curtains to be shut and the indoor lights to be off as much as possible

• Speaking of lights, he's also great at navigating in the dark because he has an excellent mental map of the house. If the power goes out it can find his way around really well

• Not an outdoor person, but man does he love stargazing!

• When he sneezes, it's always a chain of at least 3 or 4. And they are L O U D

• I can picture it wanting either hamsters/rodents or any type of bugs as pets, rather than a dog or cat

[robronfic]

hello hello!! i love an au. can you recommend some of your favs pls? x

hello anon!! i love this ask because i also looooove an au so this was a very fun request to do! here’s just a tiny fraction of some of favourite au’s. enjoy! <33

hope is a distance unreached by softlyspoken/@kellykadesperate

[robert made a mistake, and then another. so it's no one else's fault but his own that he's stuck in some flat in east london with a five year old daughter and some bloke on his mind threatening to break down all those walls the infamous whites helped build. single dad!robert au. 100k.]

double shot vanilla latte: the series by wafflesofdoom/@capseycartwright

robert had owned the grind for over two years now, buying himself a coffee shop out of his divorce settlement and turning it into one of leeds’ busiest cafes. but he’d never had a customer quite like aaron. coffee shop au. 11k.]

mr. blue sky by qualitystreet/@boombangbing

[aaron has never even used a chat line before, but now he can't get this blond guy out of his head. he knows it's just about the money, but it feels like there's more and he's too weak to stop it, even if it is making him skint. escorts au. 95k.]

sure as the world keeps the moon in the sky by aarobron/@aarobron

[an au where aaron and robert are neighbours - neighbours in love. neighbours au. 30k.]

ticket to anywhere by perksofbeingaiko/@strongboyfriends

[sixteen years old is dull in ways that movies and television never want to admit, and every minute felt like a countdown until he could escape. but life didn’t work like that. at least, not for robert. aaron couldn’t possibly be the one to change that. could he? teen au. 43k.]

asking the moon to stay by bugmadoo/@noramachwitz

[all his life prince robert had known that one day he would have to follow in his father's footsteps and become king of emmerdale. what he never expected was that he would have a secret love affair with the court's mechanic aaron dingle. royals au. 32k.]

a different language: the series by thisissirius/@thisissirius

[a series about learning to communicate, fit together, and love. deaf au. 11k.]

finding home by dirtylittlegreasemonkey/@memorieswarm

[it’s the end of 2010. almost a year before, after a long relationship with victoria sugden, aaron came out. their relationship had dissolved into an awkward state and then she discovered his internet history and everything made sense. His acceptance of it, after much confusion, anger and upset, was aided by the support of her and best friend adam. aaron’s starting to think about the future and his sexuality but victoria is driving everyone crazy with her excitement of one thing - her brother robert is returning home after more than five years away. when tobert crosses paths with Aaron, the attraction and antagonism is immediate, but it's not long before aaron finds out robert’s biggest secret and that might just change everything between them. teen au. 58k.]

met a boy in a bar, went to his hotel room by diary

[aaron and robert meet under different circumstances. alternative meeting. 35k.]

the man for the job by montecarlos/@celestinovietti

[robert sugden has just become prime minister. it falls to agent aaron dingle to make sure he doesn't cause too much trouble. prime minister au. 18k.]

december came, something changed by vicbartons/@vicbartons

[to aaron, setting his best friend up with the girl of his dreams had seemed like a worthy enough cause to team up with his least favourite co-worker for. and how hard could it really be to hijack the office secret santa? but then again, when had one of robert sugden’s schemes ever worked out the way he planned? co-workers au. 13k.]

midnight in paris by wafflesofdoom/@capseycartwright

[the end of a relationship is supposed to be the hardest part, but the last night aaron sees robert, it’s the first promise of a happy ending he gets from the other man. a year, to sort their problems, and they’ll meet back in paris, and give their love the chance it deserves, after the whirlwind of a year they'd spent together, in paris, falling more in love than either of them had been before. what could possibly go wrong in a year? paris au. 34k. ]

the primary colours by softlyspoken/@kellykadesperate

[robert’s job is to track down a fugitive, becoming a school teacher in the process just so happens to be the case this time around. police/teacher au. 143k.]

if only in my dreams by their_dark_materials/@rustandruin

[robert sugden likes his new co-worker aaron dingle. there’s just one catch: aaron seems to be in love with adam barton. but when they're forced to work together, sparks begin to fly. will robert be able to navigate aaron and adam’s happy relationship and keep his feelings to himself? or will he put everything on the line for one chance with aaron? co-worker au. 34k.]

i will remember how you kissed me by supercali/@nooneelsecomesclose17

robert will keep an eye on you, won’t you pet?” aaron rolls his eyes as he stands on the step outside the pub, diane and his mum seeing him off like he’s five years old ready for his first day. he looks over at the older boy, tie knotted neatly and tucked into his shirt, school jumper just so under his coat, shirt properly tucked in, looking every inch the school swot, exactly the last thing aaron needed. then again he didn’t want to be going to school at all. he had no intention of staying on and passing his exams was as likely as making the starting lineup for england so what was the point. teen au. 10k.]

[willoryn]

I Know

SFW Lucifer x Reader comfort fluff

Lucifer with a partner that is not used to or is unsure how to react when receiving affection. Physical or verbal 🥺💕 and he offers you some reassurance.

You love Lucifer's various forms of love languages, ranging from physical touch, gift giving, or just all around the very concept of worshipping you in any way he can. You love the way he tends to be overly dramatic and showy with the way he expressed his admiration. The way he speaks so highly of you, compliments you. The way he fawns over you like a puppy. Or when he dotes on you like a gentleman. Even down to the little things, like the quick, sneaky kisses he plants on your cheeks. Holding your hand when you walk together. His various pet names for you... It's all so endearing to you and it truly means a lot. More than he could ever know. It's just that, well, you're not exactly used to someone speaking of you or treating you in such a way. All of this love and kindness... It's, sadly, very foreign to you.

And you're starting to worry that you may not be giving him the reactions that he's hoping for.

Sometimes you aren't sure what to say, so you say nothing at all. Sometimes you become so overwhelmed with emotion that you freeze up. Or you become so flustered that you have to focus all your energy on trying to calm yourself down. But none of that is meant to take away from the very fact that it all means so much to you and makes you feel so deeply loved and cherished in a way you've never known before.

You just hope he knows...

"You know I love you, right?"

you don't beat around the bush with the question, just deciding to ask him outright one night while you're both relaxing on the couch together in front of the fireplace. Lucifer's brow furrows in confusion, very much not expecting the question.

"I never doubt it," he says simply, but turns and looks at you with a slight bit of concern. "Uhh, why do you ask? Is something wrong, sweetheart?"

You shrug and keep your eyes down on the floor at your feet. "I just don't want you to ever worry about that, I guess. When you do nice things for me , I feel like I'm not very good at showing how happy it makes me. To be honest, I've never really been good at it. And I know that can bother people sometimes... I worry that it bothers you, too."

Lucifer frowns. Unfortunately, he knew all too well how you felt. Sure, it did take some time for him to recognize that it was something you might not have been used to, a concept that is still unfathomable to Lucifer as he fully believed you deserved to be loved and adored to the highest level, but he never once took it as you giving him the cold shoulder or dismissing his shows of affection... that didn't sound like you. He may be aloof at times but he liked to think he knew you a bit better than that.

You were someone who was denied the love and affection you craved so desperately, again and again. You learned to keep yourself subdued or closed off because it was safer that way. It just became second nature for you to be guarded. Now it's a little hard for you to express those intense emotions, despite being fully free to. Not that you don't feel them at all. He knows full well that you do.

And he was going to prove it.

"What are you talking about? Of course you show it, my dear!"

You snap your full attention over to him. It was your turn to furrow your brow.

"How so?"

"Well, for starters, your eyes," he gestures to your face with his hand, meeting your gaze. "I can see it in the way they light up when something I do or say makes you happy."

You feel your cheeks warm and you avert your eyes again so he can't see them anymore. His one observation suddenly making you feel very exposed. But it doesn't stop there. You feel your hand closest to Lucifer's being scooped up by the king himself. You also noted that he had scooted much closer to you now. Your bodies only a couple inches apart now.

"Even when you're not looking at me," Lucifer continues, smiling at your bashfulness. "do you feel how tight you're squeezing my hand right now? You always do that when you're excited or happy."

Heart thumping, you quickly yank your hand away and cover your face. Not wanting him to see your blushing face for one second. This was all revealing a little too much about yourself that even you didn't know about, but somehow he was able to pick up on completely. Before you thought you were hard to read. Now, all of a sudden, you felt like an open book. And you couldn't calm your thumping heart. He truly knew you a lot better than you thought he did...

After a moment, you feel his hands on your wrists and he peels your hands away from you, revealing you in all your embarrassed glory. But he doesn't tease or poke fun... He just simply smiles at you with the same love and adoration as he always does and he speaks with a chuckle behind his words.

"Your face gets so red... You don't have to say anything for me to know what you're thinking, darling. And all that is just the tip of the iceberg," Lucifer releases your wrists and pulls you in for a hug, kissing your temple and burying his face in your hair. Speaking to you softly now. "besides, I don't do these things to see your reaction. I do them because I love you and they make you happy. Even if you don't say it out loud. I know... I know."

You smile to yourself and sigh happily, feeling tears start to prick the corners of your eyes. Your entire being now warmed by more than just the fire crackling in front of you. You were relieved that he understood. He was able to understand you in a way so many others refused to. He saw the best in you when so many others would reject you for not meeting their expectations. Maybe if it was anyone else, you'd be terrified of them knowing so much about you. Of them being able to see past your shield. You didn't like being such an open book...

But as long as Lucifer was the only one who could read you, you suppose you didn't mind.

[mvsic0]

did the new mh episode imply that toralei has the possibility of liking men….?

Ban g3 /j

[royalarchivist]

[A sad violin song plays over an image of a sad hamster]

Pac: This doesn't have anything to do with me – I wear a blue sweatshirt, you're crazy, this mouse doesn't even have a sweatshirt, this hamster! [Reading chat] Am I a depressed hamster?

[ Transcript continued ↓ ]*

–

Pac: Actually– that's fine! I embrace that idea – of course I'm going to be depressed, are you crazy? [He hits his desk, then starts counting off people on his fingers] Fit is gone, Richarlyson is gone, Ramon is gone, Bagi and Empanada who were always there when we were there are also gone, I haven't seen them! It's just me and Tubbo, and sometimes Philza shows up.

Pac: I lost Chume Labs, I lost the Favela, I lost Murder Mystery, I lost Ilha Chume Labs, it's crazy! Look at how much I've lost, and I've gained nothing! Of course I'm going to be depressed, are you crazy?! How am I supposed to be happy?!

Pac: [Reading chat] "You have us Pac," that's true, thank you. No, that's true, sorry.

* NOTE: Please note that this is an incomplete transcript, as I was primarily relying on Aypierre's translation mod at the time and if I am not confident of the translation, I do not include it. As always, please feel free to add on translations or message me corrections.

[tardis--dreams]

When proofreading the journal (on friday night) i commented on one slightly sexist and outdated term to be replaced by a neutral and more inclusive term. I've been having nightmares because of this

[bmpmp3]

I NEEED to go back to making art that makes it ABUNDANTLY clear that theres something wrong with my brain BUT NOT in a cool or stylishly interesting way. i need to do it in a way that makes people say "hm." and walk away

[always-a-slut-4-ghouls]

Duolingo will try and convince you that practicing for a few days when you feel like you can’t take a new lesson yet is a failure, that you aren’t doing as well as you could and “oh no! The ranking”

The owl lies. I have taken three near perfect practice lessons the last three days because I want to make sure I have the stuff I’ve learned seared into my brain better. If i don’t take a week or two for practicing old lessons I’m going to forget how to spell pharmacy in Norwegian and then I’ll fail a future one. You can’t expect me to just learn new words constantly without brushing up on old ones and NOT forget how to spell something or the word for something else, you dumb bitch. This is about me learning how to listen and read, not about how long I can stay in the sapphire league. The notifications about it are super annoying but I can’t shut them off or I’ll forget when I’ve spent the day doing something different than usual and my schedule is thrown off