#(which. yeah we don’t have time for all that right now)

[good-news-every-1]

@mightyoctopus thank you! I appreciate the answer! And i realize I didn’t explain what we tried so far either, so I’ll add a few things we tried. We have tried the stuff you recommended, but for a long time it didn’t help. For everyone else who is struggling:

When my daughter was 3 it was impossible to wash her hair at all. She would cry and do all to avoid. We never used force, but the kindergarden did once to wash her hands. She refused to go there again so we had to end the contract.

So, one thing that did work sometimes was to allow her to watch tv on a mobile device. By moving the device you could make her look up - that way the water runs away from the eyes which makes washing less dangerous.

Before washing her hair we explained the procedure by washing a dolls hair. She could do it if she wanted.

As I said - we did all the stuff above with little effect, but it might help other kids which are not as sensitive.

The real breakthrough was taking a bath with two other children who liked to wash hair. All three of them were together in the tub. The adult then said „who has hands?“ all hands got raised with a lot of screaming and laughing so we could soap them. Next came „who has legs?“ etc until it came to „who has hair?“ a big yay to peer pressure. Our daughter was still afraid and hesitant but the other two being full game helped a lot.

The brushing is still hard for her, mostly because she is so sensitive. Sadly, without brushing her hair will form one big tangle (we know because we won’t force her when it’s too much). My husband and I both have long curly hair, so we normally say “we know it hurts. It hurts us too when we brush ourselves. But it’s even worse the next day if you don’t.” So, no hair shaming. (Honestly, I don’t get why people would do that? But there are a lot of things I don’t get.)

But yeah, hands full of oil are a big help. It’s kinda funny because now hair washing has a reverse effect. Right after she’s very oily. Then day after day the oiliness goes down until we wash again, lol.

somewhere out there right now is a kid with curly hair being raised by people who have wavy hair at best and those people are giving them 2-in-1 shampoo and conditioner and telling them to dry brush it. and that kid is gonna spend all of middle school and high school hating their hair and moping over the flat iron. they're being told right now that if they don't dry-brush their curl pattern into oblivion every morning it means they're unkempt and gross even though they naturally have the kind of ringlets that a thousand bridezillas would commit horrible murders for every june. it's happening right now it's an absolute epidemic and a tragedy every time

[hanafubukki]

I feel a lot of the time we don’t consider the fae perspective. We mostly consider the human’s. Which, yes, of course because we are human.

But in a story like twst, where so many characters are relatable human or not, I think it’s a bit unfair to not consider their perspective.

The main one I’m thinking of right now is how we tend to criticize Malleus and his not being able to keep track of time.

We’ve been told that he has trouble keeping track of time, and in general, many of the fae do. To them, time moves different (not to mention how it can differ depending on species), but for Malleus it’s much more than that.

Malleus has been locked up in the castle for years. He got visits from Lilia and he looked foward to that. Beyond that? It was the same every single day. He was alone. Think about it. For us, we would get tired and bored of that. Time would move slowly. We would want to escape. But Malleus couldn’t. He was trapped there, making the most of it when he hid and when Lilia visits. To him, those moments of fun didn’t last long at all and the moments of melancholy lasted forever.

On a side note, we’ve seen how long it took Lilia to adapt to humans too, about 200+ years. (He’s still adapting now. He’s somewhat better at it now because of Silver and Sebek. Who are more day creatures and he had to adapt to that as well. Even though it’s still tough on him). So how can we expect the same from Malleus, when it took even Lilia this long to do it?

When Malleus grew older and he was able to escape, time moved quickly for him. He was able to spend time with Lilia and others. He had fun and freedom. To him, time sped up. Silver and Sebek age quickly. Malleus had trouble with how fast it was. Even in his dorm card he mentions how quickly they’ve grown.

But then, you also have to consider, Malleus is a fae, he’s abided by fae time for over a century and it was only recently (at least 17 years), that he tried to adapt to human time. From seeing a babe grow to now at NRC, where school is taught through human time. How can we expect him to suddenly adapt so quickly?

I wouldn’t be surprised that besides some of the fae, other beastman or merman might have more of a nocturnal clock too.

We expect him to adapt to humans but when has any of them helped him to adapt? When we ask things of others, don’t we usually try and meet half way?? Isn’t it selfish to always one-sidedly ask him to change?? And not help him achieve the change we are asking for?

It’s one thing for the rest of dia group to help him, and they try. But it’s another, when the humans don’t even try when Malleus is trying to get along with them and make a connection with them for peace between everyone. Even more so, he wants to get along and have friends too.

And then?? They get angry? At him?? For not adhering to their ways, but did they help him? Did you remind him? Or even send the invite at all? Or were you too scared and it’s easier to blame?

He’s known to arrive in advance hours before a meeting so he doesn’t miss it because he does care and he does want to attend. But where are the people to meet him half way? To remind him or even give him the proper or updated info?

It’s a two way street. We can’t always judge malleus because of his “bad” traits, when in reality, it’s a fae thing can we?

You can argue that it’s not others jobs to do that. And yeah you’re right, but then we have seen dorm leaders go out of their way to help others haven’t we? Riddle going after Idia is one example.

And if there is to be peace, then both humans and fae have to work together to understand the other.

I think it’s unfair to always expect Malleus to change without understanding his background and his childhood and how that changes his perception of time.

[mullermilkshake]

Time constraints

Part 27 <- Part 28-> Part 29

It's time for labour, the twins are coming and nothing is stopping them.

Yandere!Jinwoo Sung x Fem Pregnant!reader Tags - Heavily pregnant reader, Graphic depictions of labour/childbirth, Hospital, Mentions of c-section procedure, Trauma

<<< For more Dark/Yandere content, click this link to go back to the Masterlist! >>>

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I have only watched the anime and haven't gotten round to reading the manhwa yet. Please refrain from spoilers.

TAG LIST RE-OPEN (The tag list is back up and open for a little while, if you'd like to be tagged, please let me know! 🤗)

TW - This will contain some very graphic details of labour in childbirth which may be triggering for some, if you do not wish to read it, I will leave a short summary of this chapter at the bottom of this post, thank you all for reading this far and enjoy!!

Don’t freak out.

Don’t freak out.

Don’t fucking freak out.

Your fiancé had lost his memories of you and the twins and now you were pretty sure your water had broken, and he still didn’t remember anything. Fuck- holy fuck, holy fucking- fuck, you were wholeheartdley freaking out, naked and freaking out.

“Okay…” Deep breaths, you ignored the trickling down your leg which pooled on the floor. “Okay. I need to- I need-“

Jinwoo rushed to your side, touching your arm made you flinch. “Tell me what you need. You have a hospital bag or something we need to take, right?”

“Yeah, it’s in the closet- I need a shower.” There was a sudden, dull pain radiating from your back.

Did having sex cause this?

“Okay.” Jinwoo gathered his clothes. “I’ll call the hospital, leave the door open, shout if you need me.”

“Alright.”

The doctor said that when your waters broke, it could be a matter of hours until the twins arrived though not guaranteed. Not long in the grand scheme of things, less than a day and over in a blink.

What if something went wrong? Maybe something would happen to you and Jinwoo ended up being left with two screaming babies all on his own.

You ran the water in the shower, breathing slowly, screwing your eyes shut to try and balance your mind and relax your muscles from tensing too much.

Hot water? No, warm. If it’s too hot, my blood pressure could drop, I might faint and end up having the babies here- what if we were too late to the hospital and I give birth in the car- oh my god.

“Oh my god.”

A quick shower, one to wash your hair and prep yourself before sitting in a stuffy hospital for the week. 

Ten minutes tops, hyper aware of the pressure in your back, like mild period cramps that slightly intensified each time they came over like waves. A couple of minutes maybe more apart.

Ten minutes turned into twenty, then over half an hour when Jinwoo came in, knocking behind the mist of foggy heat on the glass.

“Are you okay? Do you need anything? The hospital said to come in when you’re ready, I’ve put everything at the door and there was an oversized t-shirt on top of the bag so I laid it out for you on the bed.”

You just about heard his voice over the shower, his silhouette waiting behind for a response.

“I’m… freaking out.”

Jinwoo didn’t say anything at first, you could see him pacing, wanting to say something. But he never did.

“Can you come in? I want to make sure I got all the soap out of my hair.”

In honesty, you’d rinsed your hair twice and stood under the running water for who knew how long. Despite Jinwoo’s troubles, having him next to you brought you a comfort you craved.

“Sure.” He took his clothes off quickly, opening the door and slipping inside right next to you.

He hesitated before holding your shoulders, rubbing his thumbs over the wet skin where it counted. You accepted a chaste kiss to your temple, grounding you a little when a cramped pulse through your back and stomach.

“Are the bubbles out?” 

You looked up at him, already exhausted, knowing the next time you slept properly, you wouldn’t be pregnant anymore. Jinwoo searched your hair, massaging it with his fingertips under the water like there were actual bubbles left over.

“Yeah, they’re all out.”

“Okay-“ You hissed, inhaling a sharp breath and catching you off guard.

“What’s wrong? Is it a contraction?”

Nodding, you breathed it out and turned the shower off. “Yeah, it was sharp, nothing like the ones before that.”

“Let’s get dried, I’ll take you to the hospital-“

You pulled him back before he could open the door. “You’ll stay with me, right? You won’t leave.”

Jinwoo smiled sweetly, like how he did before, like his face was searching for little fragments to piece together.

“I’m not going anywhere.”

“What if you need to come back here like Jong-in did, and I have the babies before you get back?”

“I guess I better bring everything I need so I won’t have to leave your side then.”

That sentiment stopped your heart beating any faster, yet the anxiety still remained. “It’s too early, I thought we still had a week, what if something’s wrong?”

Jinwoo handed you your towel, wrapping his own around his waist. He picked up another and scrunched your hair in it softly so that you didn’t break as delicate as you were feeling. 

“Lets see what the doctor says before we get riled up, I’m sure there’s a reason.”

A reason, you couldn’t think of any except that you must have done something to agitate it, to aggravate the twins into dipping out because you were just no longer inhabitable. The babies were early, meaning they would need some sort of help when they got here, the doctor said that.

It must have been the sex, it had to be. What if it hurt them or something now that they’ve dropped into position?

Your babies had dropped a few weeks ago, your body’s way of telling you that the they were ready to come at any time.

On the entire way over there, you didn’t speak, calmly breathing away more contractions. And when you weren’t doing that, you pulled apart every reason why you wouldn’t be a good mom.

If you never got your mana back, how would you raise them properly? Jinwoo couldn’t remember your face and every time he looked at you, you knew he was wracking his brain to try and find something to recognise you by. Every glance, every touch, like he was touching someone new for the first time.

He had forgot key moments in the relationship that only you knew and could never get back because you couldn’t experience them for the first time again.

A first kiss, first time, when he cooked for you and you for him when moving into that apartment into the unknown, you both made it a home. You hated that place now, wanting to live anywhere but there. Jinwoo would have loved your old place, one with a little balcony and a beautiful view of the city. Now it was gone.

All gone. Your little piece of privacy, all gone.

Jinwoo informed the receptionist of your arrival, stating your name and pulling up a wheelchair to sit in because your back began aching constantly. Tightness, that’s what you’d describe it as, a tightness around your belly each time a contraction washed over your body. Just plain uncomfortable most of the time, and then a certain pain came with a vengeance and made your teeth grit and you’d hiss like a snake or venomous animal that ought to be left alone.

“Hello!” When the doctor’s high pitched voice and grin entered the room, you couldn’t bear her. “How are you feeling?”

Jinwoo helped you on to the bed after you’d managed your hospital gown on, he never left, and you recognized that stare he’d given the doctor many times before. Now, you knew she meant well enough, but her face was pidsing you off.

“Oh, y’know, just as good as carrying around two babies inside me can feel.”

“I know, it’s a lot to process, but we’ll hopefully have a smooth birth like we did the pregnancy.” The doctor shuffled through some notes on her clipboard. “Now, I see your finalised birth plan says no pain medication, we’ll keep to that?”

“For now, I’m managing alright so far.”

Chances were you’d want medication later. It all depended on what you heard from the other rooms on the delivery ward. One screaming mother in your ears and you assumed it would send you into a state of panic. For now, the halls were mostly silent apart from squeaking hospital shoes and distant, beeping monitors behind other private doors.

Simple enough.

“Are you delivering the baby?” Jinwoo asked, his hand resting on your own as your legs swung off the side of the bed.

“Me? No. I’ll just be going between you two and Hunter Cha, the midwives will be taking care of the delivery. I’ll be assuming more of a matron role today. While I do specialise in pregnancies, I’m more involved in caesarean assisted deliveries and postpartum surgeries.” She smiled and adjusted her lab coat over her new pink scrubs. “I leave the amazing work to the midwives, but I’m on call for any procedures as a last resort, it’s commonplace.”

“Oh, right- yeah of course.” You’d never even entertained the idea of a C-section. Too busy worrying over everything else.

The doctor took your other hand and tried her best to reassure you, Jinwoo’s hand squeezed yours in response. “Please don’t worry about that right now, the midwife will check the babies position, but we already know they been engaged for a little while now, so I don’t think their positions will be an issue. So try not to think about my role today, just focus on yourself… you have a very supportive partner with you.”

She spoke the truth with that. You smiled involuntarily and nodded, watching Jinwoo with adoration even in the shitty times, he pulled through for you.

“Now, the twins are a little earlier than we hoped, but a specialist midwife will be on standby with incubators incase they’re in need of support. It is very common for twins to require longer hospital stays, but it’s okay.”

“We had sex-” It slipped from your mouth faster than you could ever control it. Fucking verbal vomit, coming out with it like you were shamelessly telling your parent. “Could that be-”

“No. There are some outdated methods to hurry labour along, but we could never confirm it. Sometimes babies are just ready to come out early, and yes, there could be complications, but you must remember, it’s pretty cramped in the uterus with one baby let alone two. They’re probably just ready to meet everyone. But we’ll monitor them to be sure, okay?”

“Okay.” It settled your nerves as another contraction rolled through your body.

Jinwoo massaged your shoulders and bridged the gap between you and the doctor. “What about Hae-in? She’s been here longer, shouldn’t you be with her?”

“We still have a little ways to go, I’m heading over to see her now, last time we checked she was over halfway there, so she’ll most probably give birth way before you do, but if you need anything, just call a nurse and they’ll come and get me.”

She sighed wistfully, shaking her head with the most delicate chuckle you’d ever heard from her. “I never would have guessed you two girls would go into labour at the same time! Talk about timing- now, get some rest while you can and my advice is to walk around if applucable, it can help get things moving. Best of luck you two, see you in an hour or so.”

As soon as she left the room, you grabbed onto Jinwoo’s t-shirt and tugged him closer, a sudden doom looming over your head. “Jinwoo, what if she has to cut me open- it was never part of the birth plan I-”

When he embraced you, you eased into him, taking on the smell of his cologne and natural smell that soothed you.

“We’ll cross that bridge when we get to it.” Brushing your hair from your face he smiled. “Let’s tackle it together, see where it takes us.”

If he was freaking out like you were, he was doing a pretty decent fucking job of hiding it.

“Okay…”

The comfort sat on the shelf longer than you were able to keep it, several hours later, you were in what the midwife called active labour. And it fucking killed. Every movement, each sharp breath as your contractions sort of merged together in one thick contraction. You were struggling.

“I need to use the bathroom-”

“Do you feel you need to push?” The midwife asked, taking your hand to aid you out of bed.

“No- no, I need to pee, I really have to pee.”

Your poor bladder, probably swollen to the size of… well not bladder sized. One of the twins were kicking at it like a fucking football. If you didn't go now, you were sure to wet yourself and piss all over the floor. Not your finest moment, yet with all the gross stuff, Jinwoo never batted an eye.

Yet, the more in pain you got, the quieter he became. After each outburst of fear or panic, that was when you could see his eyes widen.

However, he said nothing to voice his fears, internally processing them and still being available to support you. Each time you overheard Have-in scream and shout during labour, it frightened you, making you jolt and flinch and temporarily forget the pain you were in yourself.

Childbirth was fucking terrifying.

But, peeing was great, sitting down in a different position was even better, it helped you ignore the commotion outside.

“What the fuck is that?!” Struggling to stand with assistance, you backed away like you’d found a spider in there.

The midwife looked into the toilet once you were up and wide eyed at the lump-of-whatever that fell in the toilet, all veiny and globular.

“It’s alright, please don’t panic. It’s your mucus plug, it means things are moving along.”

The thing looked alive, it looked fucking alive. It could have been the overwhelming pain shooting through you or an array of other things, but that thing fucking looked alive.

“Jinwoo… I don’t think I can take this any more.” You were so close to sobbing, inches close to giving up with each second passing and making that C-section look appealing as it could be being cut open.

“We’ll get you something for the pain-” He waved over the nurse. “Can you get her something for the pain now?”

“I’m back!” The doctor came in with a positive grin you wanted to sneer at.

The nurse nodded over to her and said, “She’ll be able to prescribe it for you.”

Relief, perhaps? Any painkillers were deliciously just in reach, anything to take the edge off. “Good, because I need something for the pain- I can’t take this any longer, doctor..”

She pulled out her clipboard and scanned through the pages. “We can, but your birth plan states no pain medication, do you want to wait and-”

“No,” You managed yourself back into bed with Jinwoo’s aid. “I want it now, anything you have. Please.”

“I think maybe we should-

Something snapped in you alarmingly fast, a feral and rabid inducing. “Get me some fucking pain medication, bitch! I’ve just birthed a giant glob in the toilet and was told it’s normal. These kids are gonna split me in two and I’d rather not feel it! Now, if you aren’t gonna be useful, get the fuck out!”

Silence. Indescribable silence.

Then you realised what you just said through the constant wall of pain. “Fuck… I’m sorry-”

“Doctor.” Jinwoo coaxed her over towards the corner of the room where you couldn’t hear anything, far too many machine beeps and heavy breaths to even see clearly.

But you noticed the doctor's expression change from neutral to something out of a horror movie. Eyes wide and mouth wider. She nodded and adjusted herself, clearing her throat and announcing to the room that she’d be back with the medication you wanted.

“She’s getting you anything you need, don’t leave anything out, alright?” Jinwoo turned, watched you like he hadn’t done within the last day and gave you a knowing smile. “Hi, Baby.”

Your pet name. Even in the pain you realised.

“Jinwoo- wait- do you-”

He approached and kissed your forehead, holding you firmly like he hadn’t seen you in weeks. “I’m sorry I went away, I won’t ever leave again, I promise.”

What the hell. Jinwoo remembered all of a sudden with no warning, and he thought it was appropriate in your pain blind mind to apologise right now?

“Wait- wait.” Grasping his shirt made him groan unexpectedly. “You took your time!”

He let you pull him about. “Thanks for waiting for me, I missed you too.”

Sarcasm. But you couldn’t deny it. “I did miss you.”

“And… you love me too, huh?”

Not one minute back to his usual self and already you wanted to throttle him and kiss him all at the same time.

Better late than never.

"I do."

Wiping the damp hair away from your face, he stared at you with the most adoring look he'd ever given you. "Let's have our babies. I'm with you the whole way, properly this time."

No, he came back at the right time.

Part 27 <- Part 28-> Part 29

SUMMARY - Jinwoo and reader go to the hospital, the doctor is indirectly involved with her care and Hae-in's, and is on standby. She tries to keep to reader's birth plan, (which is no meds) Reader is in pain and shouts at her hehe, and then we see Jinwoo put the doctor in her place and we find out that he has his memories back.

Not the best at summaries 🫣 Sorry!

I'm not fully fully happy with how I've done the ending but I'm not sure if it's just me reading over this one like ten times, what do you think?

ANNOUNCEMENT - I'm away all of next week, so no chapters until sometime next week 🫣🫣 sorry! I'll still be writing, I just won't be uploading.

TAG LIST RE-OPEN (The tag list is back up and open for a little while, if you'd like to be tagged, please let me know! 🤗)

Thank you for reading and all of the support on this fic! ❤️ Likes, reblogs and comments are appreciated and I appreciate you all! See you next time 🤗

Tag list - @bubera974 @snowy-violet @sky2lar @starrynights23x @kamiliora

@yessirr7 @qmabailor @yihona-san06 @mashiromochi @daiyanomochi

@justatimidcreator @alia-17 @otomegamesforlife @m00n-estelle @towomatos

@stormnightingale @johnnysactualgf @solarisstarrsolomonsbeloved @johnnysactualgf @notleclerc

@minkuro @misakicchi @lovingyeet @soft-dots @gina239

@sabrina-senpai @tsukimoon-chan @afkmylajah @livelaughlovekuni @keiva1000

DISCLAIMER - Crossposted from my AO3 - I do not own any of the characters or anything from the anime or manhwa. This is a work of fan fiction and is absolutely not representative of the views or intentions of the original creator(s).

Also please don’t post any of my work, thank you!

[lila-lou]

✨Twenty-One - 1/4✨

Summary: You thought this trip was just a chance to unwind — until the door opened and Jensen Ackles was standing there, larger than life and way too real. Now you're spending your birthday week in his house, trying not to lose your mind over your childhood crush who, somehow, keeps looking at you like you’re not just some kid anymore.

-requested-

Pairing: Jensen x Reader

Warnings: Language, kinda immoral

Word Count: 6636

DISCLAIMER: Everything is purely fiction. I do not intend to attack or hurt anyone. The story is, of course, entirely made up and meant for entertainment purposes. I love them all.

AJ grinned as she rang the doorbell, clearly excited about your reaction to this trip. You, on the other hand, felt your stomach twist into knots. It wasn’t every day you were about to meet Jensen Ackles—a man you had grown up admiring, crushing on, and now, somehow, about to spend time with in the flesh.

The door swung open faster than you expected, and there he was.

Jensen Ackles stood in the doorway, casual yet effortlessly attractive in a plain t-shirt and jeans, his green eyes warm but curious as they landed on you. His light brown hair was slightly messy, like he’d just run his hand through it.

“Hey, kiddo”, he greeted AJ with a grin, pulling her into a quick hug before turning his attention to you. “And you must be Y/N. Heard a lot about you”.

Your brain short-circuited for a second. He heard about you? You barely managed to return his smile without looking like a total idiot.

“Uh—yeah. That’s me. Y/N”, you said awkwardly, cursing yourself immediately for sounding like a socially inept robot.

AJ laughed and nudged your side. “She’s just nervous. Big fan and all”.

Your eyes widened as you turned to glare at her, mentally screaming. She wasn’t supposed to say that! That was the last thing you wanted him to know.

Jensen chuckled, crossing his arms over his broad chest. “Oh yeah?”, he teased, clearly amused. “Supernatural fan?”.

You swallowed hard. “Uhm—yeah. I mean—kinda”.

His smirk deepened, and you knew he knew. “Well, that’s good. At least you won’t be completely freaked out staying here for the week”.

You blinked. Wait, what?

AJ turned to you with a wide grin. “Yeah, forgot to mention that part. We´re staying here. Dad’s got plenty of space, and this way, we don’t have to waste money on a hotel”.

Your mouth went dry. A whole week… in Jensen Ackles’ house?

Jensen patted your shoulder lightly, the simple touch making your skin tingle. “Make yourself at home, Y/N”, he said, his voice smooth and warm. “It’s gonna be fun”.

And just like that, your already dangerous crush on him? It just got a hundred times worse.

As AJ disappeared into the kitchen, already rummaging through the fridge like she owned the place—which, to be fair, she kind of did—you found yourself alone with Jensen.

He smiled down at you, his green eyes studying you with an easy warmth. “So, you and AJ met at the shelter, huh?”, he asked, leading you through the house at a relaxed pace.

You nodded, still feeling slightly on edge just being here. “Yeah, about a year ago. I worked there while studying, and AJ came in for her internship”.

Jensen chuckled, shaking his head fondly. “That sounds like her. Always wanting to do a little bit of everything”. His voice was deep and smooth, the kind of voice that could make reading a grocery list sound interesting.

“Yeah”, you agreed softly. “She’s… definitely a lot more outgoing than me”.

He glanced at you, his expression turning thoughtful. “Not a bad thing”, he said, stopping at the base of the staircase. “Sometimes, the quiet ones have the most to say. Just takes the right person to listen”.

Your stomach flipped at his words. Did he just say something that deep… about you? Before you could even think of a response, he motioned toward the stairs. “Let me show you where you’ll be staying”.

You followed him up, trying your best not to let your eyes wander, except that was nearly impossible. The man was built like a damn Greek god. Broad shoulders, muscular back, those strong arms… it should’ve been illegal for someone to look that good in just a t-shirt.

“This is you”, Jensen said, pushing open a door at the end of the hall. The room was spacious but cozy, with a queen-sized bed, a soft gray comforter, and a window that overlooked the backyard.

“Wow”, you breathed, stepping inside. “This is… really nice”.

Jensen leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed over his chest. “Good. I want you to feel comfortable here. And if AJ gets too annoying, you can always escape in here”.

You smiled at that, your nerves easing slightly. “Thanks. That’s… really nice of you”.

He tilted his head, watching you. “It’s your birthday tomorrow, right?”.

Your eyes widened slightly. “Uh—yeah. How’d you know?”.

Jensen smirked. “AJ’s been talking about it for weeks”. He pushed off the doorframe, his presence effortlessly commanding even in such a relaxed stance. “We’ll have to do something special”.

Your heart skipped a beat. Jensen Ackles wanted to do something for your birthday?

Before you could embarrass yourself by overthinking, AJ’s voice called from downstairs. “Dad! You seriously have nothing good to eat! What kind of house is this?”.

Jensen sighed, shaking his head as he turned. “Guess I need to feed the gremlin before she starves”.

You let out a soft laugh, watching as he walked away. As soon as he was gone, you flopped onto the bed, face-first, groaning into the pillow.

A whole week here. With him. You were so screwed.

You had barely kicked off your shoes and sat up when Jensen’s deep voice echoed from downstairs. “Y/N! What do you want to eat?”.

Your brain short-circuited for a second. He was asking you? Like, personally? Not just assuming you’d go along with whatever AJ wanted?

You scrambled to the doorway, hesitating before calling back, “Uh—whatever’s fine! I’m not picky!”.

There was a pause, then his voice came again, closer this time. “That’s not an answer, kid”.

Your stomach flipped at the nickname. Not that it was unusual, he probably called people around AJ´s age “kid” all the time, but coming from him? It did something to you.

You took a deep breath, stepping out of your room and heading toward the stairs. “Um… pizza?”.

Jensen appeared at the bottom of the staircase, looking up at you with an amused smirk. “There. Was that so hard?”.

Your face burned as you shrugged. “I just—didn’t want to be a bother”.

He scoffed. “You’re staying in my house, Y/N. You better tell me what you want to eat. I don’t need you passing out on me”.

AJ suddenly popped out from behind him, a bag of chips in hand. “Yeah, trust me, Dad. Y/N gets all quiet when she’s hungry. It’s creepy”.

You rolled your eyes. “I do not”.

“She totally does”, AJ confirmed, shoving a chip in her mouth. “She’s like a little sad puppy until she eats”.

Jensen chuckled, shaking his head as he pulled his phone out. “Alright, pizza it is. Any topping requests?”.

You hesitated for half a second, but AJ was already answering for you. “She loves pepperoni and extra cheese”.

Jensen raised an eyebrow, glancing at you. “That true?”.

You nodded, feeling oddly exposed by how well AJ knew you. “Yeah”.

Jensen grinned, nodding as he scrolled on his phone. “Good choice. You and I are gonna get along just fine, Y/N”.

You swallowed hard at that, ignoring the way your heart did a weird little flip. Get it together. He was just being nice. Like a dad.

AJ, of course, wasn’t about to let you off the hook. “She’s also a total freak about garlic bread”.

Jensen looked up, amused. “Oh yeah?”.

AJ nodded, grinning like she had just exposed your deepest secret. “Like, I swear she’d marry a loaf of it if she could���.

You groaned, covering your face. “AJ, shut up”.

Jensen just chuckled, already adding it to the order. “Alright, garlic bread for the birthday girl”.

Your stomach twisted. Oh. Right. He knew.

It wasn’t that you hated birthdays, but growing up, they were never big for you. No extravagant parties, no expensive gifts, just a simple cake, maybe a dinner if money allowed. So hearing Jensen Ackles, the man you had crushed on for years, say it so casually? It felt… weird.

Nice. But weird.

“AJ mentioned you’re turning 21”, Jensen said, locking his phone and glancing at you. “Big milestone. We should do something fun”.

AJ perked up. “Oh! Can we take her out?”.

You froze. “Wait, what?”.

AJ turned to you, practically vibrating with excitement. “Dude, it’s your 21st birthday. We have to do something! A bar, a club, something!”.

Jensen smirked, crossing his arms. “You’re still eighteen, AJ. You’re not going anywhere”.

AJ groaned dramatically. “Ugh, technicalities”.

You, on the other hand, were too focused on the part where Jensen was apparently planning your birthday now. “I—I don’t know”, you stammered, suddenly nervous. “I hadn’t really planned anything. It’s not a big deal”.

Jensen scoffed. “Yeah, not happening. You only turn 21 once”.

AJ gasped, her eyes lighting up. “Ooooh, Dad, you should take her out!”.

Your entire body went stiff. “What?!”.

Jensen just raised an eyebrow at his daughter’s enthusiasm. “Uh…”.

AJ clapped her hands together, already hyping herself up. “Yes! Think about it. You know all the cool places, she’s never been to LA before, and she needs to live a little! It’s perfect”.

You opened your mouth to protest, because what the hell was she even suggesting?!, but Jensen only chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. “Well… guess I don’t mind playing chaperone for the night”.

AJ grinned at you. “See? Perfect”.

You stared at her, absolutely betrayed. “AJ, what are you doing?”, you whispered, mentally panicking.

She just smirked. “Giving you the best birthday ever, duh”.

Jensen stretched, cracking his neck. “Alright, pizza should be here soon. You two go set the table or something”.

You barely registered his words. Your brain was too busy spiraling. Because tomorrow night? You were going out. With Jensen Ackles.

You grabbed a couple of napkins, setting them next to the paper plates while AJ plopped down on the couch, watching you with a mischievous grin. “We need to doll you up”, she declared, tossing a napkin onto the table.

You groaned, already knowing where this was going. “AJ—”

“I’m serious!”, she cut in, sitting up and pointing at you. “You’re so pretty, but you always dress so… lamely”.

Your face heated up. “I do not”.

AJ gave you a look. “Y/N, I love you, but your entire wardrobe is, like, neutral colors and jeans. Do you even own a dress?”.

You hesitated. “…Maybe”.

AJ gasped dramatically. “Oh my God, maybe?!”.

You rolled your eyes, trying not to smile. “Not all of us have unlimited shopping sprees, AJ”.

She waved a hand dismissively. “Money has nothing to do with it! You just need to, like… embrace your hotness”.

You nearly choked. “Excuse me?”.

AJ grinned. “Dude, you’re gorgeous. But you hide behind all these boring clothes and oversized hoodies”. She wiggled her eyebrows. “And since you’re spending your birthday night out with my dad, we need to upgrade your look”.

You froze. “AJ, it’s not like that—”.

“Oh, please”, She smirked. “Dad’s gonna be in full ‘protective mode’, but that doesn’t mean you can’t look hot”.

Your face felt like it was on fire. “AJ, I am not dressing up just to—”.

“Too late”, she sang, already pulling out her phone. “We’re raiding my closet after dinner. I have so many things that’ll look amazing on you”.

You sighed, knowing there was no way out of this. “You’re really set on this, huh?”.

AJ grinned. “Absolutely”.

Before you could protest again, the doorbell rang.

“Pizza’s here!”, Jensen’s voice came from the hallway.

AJ clapped her hands, jumping up. “Saved by the pizza. But don’t think I’m letting this go”.

You groaned, running a hand down your face as she skipped off to the door. Tomorrow night was going to be a disaster.

Dinner had been surprisingly easygoing. A lot of small talk, mostly AJ dominating the conversation while you and Jensen occasionally chimed in. He was easy to talk to—casual, funny, even a little sarcastic—but still, every time he looked at you, you felt hyperaware of yourself. Like he could see right through your nervous energy.

But then, once the pizza was mostly gone, Jensen leaned back in his chair, stretching a little before fixing you with a serious look. “Alright, birthday girl”, he started, “if we’re going out tomorrow, we gotta set some ground rules”.

You straightened slightly, feeling weirdly like a teenager getting lectured by a parent. “Rules?”.

Jensen nodded. “Yeah. First off, no posting about it online. I’m not super hounded by paparazzi, but I also don’t need some rando snapping pics of me in a club with a 21-year-old and spinning it into some weird-ass headline”.

That… made sense. You hadn’t even thought about that. You nodded. “Yeah, of course”.

“Second”, he continued, taking a sip of his beer, “I’m picking the club. I know a few spots that are discreet. Last thing you need is to deal with a bunch of drunk superfans losing their minds because they recognize me”.

You swallowed. Right. Because he was Jensen freaking Ackles. Just because he was so casual about it didn’t change the fact that millions of people worshipped him.

“And third…”. He hesitated for a second, then smirked slightly. “Look, I know you’re young, but just—don’t do anything stupid. Don’t disappear, don’t take drinks from strangers, and for the love of God, don’t hook up with some dude in the club bathroom”.

You nearly choked on your drink. “Jensen!”.

AJ screamed from across the couch, doubling over in laughter. “OH MY GOSH. AS IF”, She was gasping between giggles. “Dad, she’s—she’s the biggest virgin ever”.

Your eyes widened in horror. “AJ, what the hell?!”.

Jensen, to his credit, just raised an eyebrow, looking highly amused. “That so?”, he mused, taking another sip of beer.

You covered your face with both hands. This was not happening.

AJ was still cackling. “I swear! She’s like, scared of flirting. It’s adorable”.

You groaned, wanting to sink into the floor. “Oh my God, can we not talk about this?”.

Jensen smirked. “Alright, alright. No judgment, kid”.

The way he said it, so damn casually, made your stomach do something stupid. Like he wasn’t laughing at you, just… observing.

AJ wiped tears from her eyes, still giggling. “I love this. This is the best day ever”.

You glared at her. “You’re the worst”.

She just grinned. “And yet, you love me”.

Jensen shook his head, still looking entertained. “Alright, enough embarrassing Y/N for one night”. He pushed up from his chair, stretching. “I’m heading to bed. You two don’t stay up all night”.

AJ saluted dramatically. “Yes, Dad”.

You were still burning with embarrassment as Jensen walked past, clapping your shoulder lightly. “Don’t let her bully you too much, kid”. And with that, he was gone, leaving you a mess on the couch while AJ kept laughing.

The next day passed in a blur. You had tried to distract yourself, watching movies with AJ, helping clean up the kitchen, and avoiding thinking too hard about the fact that tonight, you’d be going out with Jensen.

But, of course, AJ had other plans. “Alright, birthday girl”, she announced, throwing open her closet doors dramatically. “Time for your transformation”.

You sighed, standing near the doorway. “I don’t need a transformation, AJ”.

She turned to you, hands on her hips, like a mom about to scold her child. “Yes, you do. You’re turning twenty-one. You’re going out for the first time. You are not—I repeat, NOT—going in your usual boring outfit”.

You huffed. “It’s not boring. It’s just comfortable”.

AJ gave you a look. “We are not prioritizing comfort tonight. We are prioritizing hotness”.

You groaned. “AJ…”.

She ignored you, already digging through hangers, tossing options onto her bed. “We need something sexy but not too much. Hot, but classy. Like… ‘Oops, I didn’t mean to be this attractive, but here we are’”.

You rolled your eyes. “That’s… weirdly specific”.

AJ gasped suddenly, pulling out a sleek, form-fitting black dress. “This. This is it”.

Your eyes widened. “AJ, that’s… tiny”.

She scoffed. “It’s not tiny, it’s perfect. Try it on”.

You hesitated, but one look at AJ’s dead serious expression told you there was no way out of this. Fine. You grabbed the dress and disappeared into the bathroom. When you slipped it on, you barely recognized yourself. It hugged your body in all the right ways, the hem stopping mid-thigh, the neckline just low enough to be dangerous. You stared at your reflection, heart pounding. Was this really you?

“Are you done yet?!”, AJ’s voice called impatiently.

Taking a deep breath, you stepped out.

AJ’s jaw dropped. “FUCKING. SHIT”.

Your face burned. “It’s too much, isn’t it?”.

AJ shook her head so fast you thought she might get whiplash. “Too much?! No, this is—this is perfect. Like, I almost want to cry. My little Y/N is finally embracing her hotness”.

You groaned. “Please stop talking”.

She ignored you, circling around like she was inspecting her masterpiece. “You’ve been hiding this under your oversized hoodies all this time?”. She gasped.

Before you could argue, a knock sounded on the bedroom door. Jensen’s voice came through. “You two ready yet?”.

Your stomach twisted into a knot at the sound of Jensen’s voice. Ready? That was debatable. AJ, of course, had no hesitation. She threw open the door, revealing Jensen standing in the hallway, dressed in a fitted black button-up with the sleeves rolled up just enough to ruin your life.

His gaze landed on you—and froze.

For the briefest second, you swore you saw his breath hitch. His eyes flickered down, taking in the dress, the way it hugged your figure, and then just as quickly, he cleared his throat, looking away.

“Well, damn”, he muttered, scratching the back of his neck. “You clean up nice”.

You swallowed, forcing yourself to act normal. “Uh… thanks”.

AJ, meanwhile, was beaming like she had just won the lottery. “Told you she looked hot”.

Jensen shot her a look. “Alright, that’s enough”.

AJ just laughed, linking her arm with yours and dragging you down the hallway. “Come on, let’s eat. You can’t party on an empty stomach”.

Dinner was surprisingly… nice.

Jensen took you both to a quiet restaurant, low lighting, a cozy atmosphere, nothing too fancy, but still nice. AJ did most of the talking (as always), but you couldn’t help but notice the way Jensen would glance at you every now and then.

Little things—making sure you liked your food, refilling your drink before you even realized it was low. It wasn’t anything obvious, but it made your stomach flutter all the same.

When dinner wrapped up, Jensen tossed his credit card on the table before you or AJ could even pretend to argue.

AJ stretched dramatically. “Alright, time to go. Birthday girl has a club to get to”. You paused. Right. The plan. Jensen was dropping AJ off at home first, then… then it was just you and him. Alone. In a club.

By the time you pulled up to AJ’s house, she was already half-asleep in the backseat.

Jensen shifted the car into park and looked back at her. “Alright, kiddo, inside you go”.

AJ blinked groggily. “Ugh. Fine”. Then she turned to you, smirking just enough to let you know she was still AJ. “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do”.

You rolled your eyes. “Which is…?”.

She grinned. “Nothing. There’s nothing I wouldn’t do”.

Jensen groaned. “Out. Now”.

AJ laughed, hopping out of the car. “Love you both! Don’t be lame!”.

And just like that, it was just you and Jensen. The car was suddenly too quiet.

Jensen exhaled, gripping the wheel for a second before looking over at you. “You ready for this?”.

You nodded, though your heart was pounding. “Yeah. You?”.

He smirked, shifting the car into drive. “Let’s find out”.

The drive to the club was quiet, but not exactly uncomfortable. Just… charged.

Jensen had one hand on the wheel, his other resting casually on the gear shift, his fingers tapping lightly as he drove. The streetlights cast quick flashes of gold across his face, highlighting his sharp jawline, the slight crease in his brow.

You, on the other hand, were trying not to lose your mind.

It wasn’t like this was a date, not even close, but the fact that you were alone with Jensen Ackles, dressed like this, going out for your birthday… it felt like something you shouldn’t even allow yourself to overthink.

But, of course, you were overthinking it anyway. After a moment, Jensen glanced over at you. “You good?”.

You nodded quickly. “Yeah. Just… haven’t really done this before”.

He smirked, eyes flicking back to the road. “First time clubbing?”.

You exhaled. “Yeah. Not exactly my scene”.

Jensen let out a soft chuckle. “Yeah, figured as much”.

You frowned. “What’s that supposed to mean?”.

He shrugged, lips twitching. “You just seem… more like the ‘cozy night in’ type. Movie marathons, takeout, that kind of thing”.

Your heart skipped. He had known you for barely two days and somehow already had you pegged. “…Not wrong”, you muttered, crossing your arms.

Jensen smirked. “Don’t worry, kid. I’ll make sure you survive”.

You swallowed. Kid. That damn nickname. You weren’t sure why it bothered you tonight. Maybe because you didn’t feel like a kid. Not in this dress, not sitting next to him like this, not with the way his voice sounded so smooth and effortless.

You needed a distraction. “So, why are you even doing this?”, you asked, shifting in your seat. “Taking me out, I mean”.

Jensen hummed, considering for a moment. “Well, AJ was very insistent”.

You huffed. “Yeah, that sounds like her”.

He glanced at you again. “And… you only turn twenty-one once. Figured you deserved a proper night out”.

Something about the way he said it—calm, certain—sent a shiver down your spine.

You bit the inside of your cheek. “You do this often?”.

Jensen chuckled. “What, take barely legal girls to clubs?”.

Your face burned. “Oh my God—that’s not what I meant”.

He just laughed, shaking his head. “Relax, kid. I know”. Then, after a beat, he added, “And no. Haven’t really gone out much lately. Not my scene either, honestly”.

That surprised you. “Then why—?”.

He smirked. “Told you. Birthday rule. Plus, if I don’t do it, AJ will never let me hear the end of it”.

You let out a breathy laugh, shaking your head. “She really does have you wrapped around her finger”.

Jensen sighed dramatically. “Tell me about it”.

The car slowed as he pulled onto a side street, the bright neon lights of the club flickering in the distance. He put the car in park, then turned to you, his expression suddenly more serious.

“Alright, some more ground rules”.

You straightened, nodding. “Okay”.

Jensen held up a finger. “One—stay where I can see you. I’m not dealing with you disappearing on me”.

You swallowed. “Got it”.

“Two—if any guy gives you trouble, you come find me”.

Your breath caught slightly. “Uh… okay”.

“And three—”. He leaned back, giving you a smirk. “Try to have some fun”.

You exhaled a laugh. “I’ll… do my best”.

Jensen grinned, then unbuckled his seatbelt. “Let’s go, birthday girl”.

Your stomach twisted as you stepped out of the car, the music from inside the club already thumping through the pavement. You weren’t sure if it was the nerves or the excitement making your heart race. But either way… there was no turning back now.

The bass from the club pulsed through the pavement as you followed Jensen toward the entrance. The neon lights cast an electric glow over everything, and for a moment, you wondered what the hell you were doing.

This wasn’t your scene. Not even close. But somehow, being here with him made it feel a little less terrifying.

Jensen walked up to the bouncer like he’d done this a hundred times before. The guy at the door barely glanced at him before unhooking the velvet rope. “Good to see you again, man”, the bouncer said, nodding.

Jensen smirked. “Appreciate it”.

You blinked. Wait.

“You know the bouncer?”, you asked as you followed him inside.

Jensen shrugged. “Told you, I picked a place that’s… familiar”.

You stared at him. “What does that even mean?”.

But Jensen just grinned. “Come on, let’s get a drink”.

The club was packed. Music blasted from the speakers, the air thick with heat and the scent of alcohol. Colorful strobe lights cut through the haze, illuminating the crowd of bodies moving in sync with the beat. Jensen led you through the mass of people, his hand hovering near the small of your back—not touching, but just close enough that you felt completely hyper-aware of his presence.

When you reached the bar, he turned to you. “What’s your poison?”.

You hesitated. “Uh… I don’t really know”.

Jensen chuckled, shaking his head. “Right. First time and all”. He turned to the bartender. “Two whiskey sours”.

Your brows lifted. “Oh, we’re starting with whiskey?”.

Jensen smirked. “Trust me”.

The drinks arrived quickly. You took a cautious sip, the mix of citrus and smooth burn of whiskey hitting your tongue. “Okay”, you admitted. “Not bad”.

Jensen raised his glass. “Happy birthday, kid”.

You huffed. “Still with the ‘kid’ thing?”.

He smirked, taking a sip. “Force of habit”.

You rolled your eyes but clinked your glass against his anyway. As you drank, you let yourself take it all in. The music, the lights, the fact that you were here, in a club, drinking with Jensen Ackles. The absurdity of it all made you laugh under your breath.

Jensen arched a brow. “What?”.

You shook your head, smiling. “Just… this isn’t how I thought I’d spend my twenty-first birthday”.

Jensen leaned against the bar, smirking. “Better or worse?”.

Your stomach flipped. You licked your lips, setting your drink down. “Still deciding”.

He chuckled. “Well, we’ve got the whole night. Let’s see if I can change your mind”.

Before you could respond, the music shifted—something fast, infectious.

Jensen tilted his head toward the dance floor. “You gonna dance?”.

Your eyes widened. “Oh, uh… I don’t really—”.

“Bullshit”. He smirked. “Come on. Let’s see what you got”.

Your pulse skyrocketed. “Wait—you mean… with you?”.

Jensen just grinned and held out a hand. You stared at it, heart hammering. This was so not a good idea. And yet… You took his hand.

Jensen’s hand was warm, his grip firm but easy, like this wasn’t a big deal. Like he wasn’t dragging you onto the dance floor in the middle of a crowded club. Your brain screamed at you to protest, to tell him you weren’t much of a dancer, that this was dangerous territory.

But you didn’t. Because the second he pulled you into the crowd, the music swallowed you whole. The bass thrummed through your chest, the lights flashing in shades of blue and red, bodies moving all around you in time with the rhythm. You barely had time to catch your breath before Jensen turned to face you, a small smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.

“Relax”, he said over the music. “It’s just dancing”.

Just dancing. You exhaled sharply, trying to convince yourself of that. But then Jensen moved. He didn’t go all-in right away. Just a casual sway, easy and effortless, his body rolling with the beat like it was second nature. His hands stayed at his sides, giving you space, but his eyes? They were right on you. He was watching. Waiting.

Your pulse skyrocketed. Okay. Fine. You could do this. You started slow, mirroring his movements, testing the rhythm. It wasn’t that you couldn’t dance, it was just that you never had, at least not like this. Not with him.

Jensen grinned when he saw you loosen up. “There you go”.

The music picked up, and without thinking, you let your body move. The alcohol in your system helped, making you just a little bolder, a little less aware of your own awkwardness.

And then, Jensen stepped closer. Not too close. Not inappropriate. But close enough. Close enough that when the beat dropped, and you turned slightly, his hand found your waist, just for a second, just barely there. Your breath hitched.

He leaned in, his voice low, just above your ear. “See? Not so bad”.

You swallowed. “Not bad”, you managed, but it didn’t sound nearly as casual as you wanted it to.

Jensen smirked, his fingers brushing your waist again, so light, so subtle, you almost could have imagined it. But you didn’t. Because when your eyes met his, there was something different there. Something that made your whole body hum with awareness.

The song shifted again, something slower, heavier. Jensen didn’t move away. Neither did you. And just like that, the air between you changed. It was no longer just dancing. It was something else. Something neither of you had expected.

Your pulse was out of control. You barely thought as you grabbed your drink, tipping it back in one go, the alcohol burning its way down your throat.

Jensen watched, his smirk deepening. “Damn, kid”.

You ignored the way that nickname made your stomach flip, setting the empty glass onto the nearest table. When you turned back, Jensen was still right there, his green eyes glinting under the flashing club lights.

Then, before you could process what was happening, he reached for your hand. And spun you. A quick, fluid motion—his fingers barely grazing yours—until suddenly, your back was against his chest.

He wasn’t touching you—not fully—but he was close. Close enough that you felt the heat of him, the warmth of his breath as it fanned across your shoulder.

And now? Now, you were really dancing.

The beat pulsed through your veins, your body moving with the rhythm. The hesitation you’d had before? Gone. The alcohol, the music, the way Jensen’s presence wrapped around you like a second skin, it was all too much, and at the same time, not enough.

You let your hands lift slightly, swaying to the beat, and that’s when it happened. Jensen’s fingers, just barely, brushed against your hip. It wasn’t much. The lightest touch. But it sent a sharp jolt through your spine.

You swallowed hard, hyper-aware of him now. The way his body moved so easily behind you. The way he still wasn’t touching you fully, like he was waiting. Testing. Like he was seeing how far this could go.

And you? You weren’t stopping him.

Another beat, another sway. His fingers pressed—firmer, deliberate—just at the curve of your hip. Your stomach tightened.

“Still with me?”. His voice was low, rough, right against your ear.

Your breath stuttered. “Yeah”.

Jensen hummed, a sound that rumbled through your back. “Good”.

You didn’t know how long you danced. Didn’t care. Because for the first time in your life, you weren’t overthinking. You were just feeling. And damn, did it feel good.

Hours had passed in a blur of music, lights, and the heat of Jensen’s presence. You had danced longer than you ever thought possible, had another drink (or two, who was counting?), and somewhere along the way, you had lost every ounce of hesitation.

Now, however, reality was hitting you all at once.

You weren’t wasted, but you were definitely buzzed—that loose, giggly kind of drunk that made the world tilt just slightly when you walked.

And Jensen? He was handling you. Not in an overbearing way. Not in a “let’s go, you’re done” way.

No. He was calm. Collected. Like this wasn’t the first time he had to lead a tipsy twenty-one-year-old out of a club.

His hand rested firmly at your lower back as he guided you through the crowd, his grip steady whenever you swayed too much. “You’re lucky you’re a fun drunk”, he murmured as he pulled open the club’s side door, letting in the crisp night air.

You giggled, feeling way too warm. “What’s a not fun drunk?”.

Jensen smirked, keeping his pace slow as you walked toward the parking lot. “The crying ones. The aggressive ones. The ones who throw up in my car”.

You gasped dramatically. “I would never”.

Jensen huffed a laugh, unlocking the car. “Yeah, well, let’s keep it that way”.

You felt light. Giddy. Like this whole night was floating around you in some hazy, surreal dream. When you reached the passenger door, you turned, swaying slightly. “You know…”, you started, tilting your head. “You’re really good at this”.

Jensen raised an eyebrow, amused. “At what?”.

You blinked slowly, trying to find your words. “Taking care of people”.

His smirk softened just a little. “Comes with the territory”.

You hummed. “Yeah… you’re like… a responsible, sexy bodyguard”.

Jensen froze. Your own brain stalled. Did you—did you just say that out loud? A beat of silence.

Then, Jensen smirked. “Sexy, huh?”.

Oh. My. God. You slapped a hand over your mouth, eyes wide. “Forget that. That wasn’t—that was nothing—”.

Jensen laughed. Like, full-on laughed. “Alright, lightweight, let’s get you in the car before you start confessing more things”, he teased, opening the passenger door.

You groaned, hiding your face. “I hate myself”.

Jensen nudged you toward the seat, still smirking. “Don’t worry, kid. I’ll let that one slide”.

You huffed as you slid into the car, your face on fire. Jensen shut the door, walking around to the driver’s side. You exhaled deeply. You needed sleep. Water. A new identity, maybe. Because fucking shit. You just called him sexy.

The second Jensen started driving, you knew you were in trouble. Your head was still spinning, your body warm from the alcohol, the dancing, and—let’s be honest—him.

You couldn’t just sit here in awkward silence after what you’d said. You had to fix it. “I just meant”, you started, turning toward him in the dim glow of the dashboard lights, “you’re, like, objectively attractive”.

Jensen’s fingers tightened around the steering wheel. Oh no.

“Like—like, obviously. People would agree”, you continued, rambling. “You’ve got, you know, the whole… thing going on”.

He raised an eyebrow. “The thing?”.

You gestured vaguely. “Yeah. The voice, the muscles, the face. You know”.

Jensen exhaled sharply through his nose. “Shit, (Y/N)”.

You panicked. “But not, like, in a weird way! I just mean you’re, like… manly. Like, rugged. You’ve got that whole strong, protective, could-break-someone-in-half vibe”.

Jensen’s jaw flexed. His grip on the wheel went white-knuckle tight. You were making this worse. You gulped. “Like—not that I’d want to be broken in half, obviously—”.

Jensen let out a rough breath, shifting slightly in his seat. You had no idea that your innocent, drunk little rant was currently making his dick twitch. But it was. Because all he could think about now was you—dressed like that, pressed against him on the dance floor, moving without hesitation. And now, sitting in his car, talking like this. About him.

His jaw was tight. “Y/N”.

You perked up. “Yeah?”.

Jensen huffed. “Stop talking”.

Your mouth snapped shut. For a second, you swore the air in the car felt different. Heavy. Charged. You glanced at him, blinking. “Did I—did I say something wrong?”.

Jensen exhaled sharply, rubbing a hand over his jaw. “No. You just… need to stop before you dig yourself in deeper”.

The rest of the drive was tense, but not because of any argument or discomfort. No, the tension was something else. Something thicker, heavier. Something Jensen should not have been feeling.

You sat there, legs crossed, fiddling with the hem of your dress, clearly buzzed and completely oblivious to what you had just done to him. To be fair, you didn’t know any better. You were young. Inexperienced. Completely innocent in ways you didn’t even realize.

And Jensen was not. That was the problem. That was why his grip was too tight on the steering wheel. That was why his jaw clenched every time your soft little voice rambled about how manly and strong he was.

Because you didn’t even realize what you were saying. Didn’t realize that any other man your age would’ve jumped at the chance to take advantage of the fact that you were sitting here, flushed and tipsy, calling him sexy without a second thought.

Didn’t realize that the words could break someone in half had sent a sharp, unwelcome pulse straight through him. Because he could. And that was the worst part—because you? You were so damn soft. So untouched. So sweet and nervous and trying so hard to make things right.

And here he was, a man nearly twice your age, trying not to think about how warm you’d felt against him hours ago. How easily you had melted into him when he’d spun you on the dance floor. How your breath had hitched when he touched your waist.

And now, you were sitting there, cheeks pink, babbling in that innocent little voice, so damn unaware of the effect you were having on him.

Jensen swallowed hard. This was not good. Not at all.

Then, your voice cut through the silence. “Are you mad at me?”.

He glanced over, blinking. “What?”.

You bit your lip. “I just… I didn’t mean to make things weird”.

Fuck. That lip.

He forced himself to focus. Shook his head. “You didn’t”.

You still looked guilty, your fingers twisting in your lap. “I just—sometimes I don’t know when to shut up”.

Jensen huffed a laugh, rubbing a hand over his face. “Yeah. I noticed”.

You made a little sound of protest, smacking his arm lightly. “Hey!”.

He smirked, glancing at you again, this time, really looking. You were so young. Too young to be in his car like this, looking at him like that, trusting him completely. And he needed to get his shit together. Fast.

Jensen exhaled. “Relax, kid. I’m not mad”.

You softened. “Promise?”.

His fingers flexed against the wheel. Fuck, you had no idea. But still, he nodded. “Promise”.

And when you smiled, looking relieved, Jensen knew. He had no business feeling the way he did. Because no matter how much your words had messed him up tonight… You were off-limits.

———————————

A/N: Please let me know what you think.🥰 

-

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[saphronethaleph]

Love Language

“So, uh… Dad?” Hiccup said, nervously, but that was mostly just normal for him. “I’ve got a… question.”

“What sort of question, Hiccup?” Stoic replied, not unkindly – for him, anyway.

That was sort of how their family relationship went a lot of the time, as it happened. The two of them being at pains to be normal with one another.

“So… how exactly do we know that dragons are, uh… monsters, evil, want to hurt us, want to destroy us?” Hiccup asked, rattling off the normal dragon description from the Book of Dragons. “Extremely dangerous, and so on?”

Stoic blinked, then looked at Hiccup with the sort of look that – normally – would be reserved for a relative who’d said something extremely thick.

He wasn’t used to turning it on Hiccup.

“They keep… attacking us,” he said. “Raiding us. Carrying off our sheep.”

“Yeah, about that,” Hiccup replied. “Because, I’ve been a Viking teenager for a while now and the general impression I get is that that’s how Vikings show that they want to become friends.”

Stoic snorted.

“Not getting on well with your friends?” he asked.

“That plural is assuming a lot, Dad,” Hiccup replied. “That… word is also making some assumptions, actually! Though you did keep telling me that all the punches and stuff were just a way of making friends – but, I wasn’t actually talking about my friends, I didn’t mean them, I was meaning to talk about the dragons.”

“And?” Stoic said.

“The point I’m making, Dad, is that… so, uh, I tried putting myself in the place of the dragons,” Hiccup said, shaking his leg and leaning awkwardly on the door frame. “And I wondered what Vikings would think if we went somewhere and the people there were firing catapults at us and shooting flaming rocks at us, and that sort of thing, and… I’ve met Vikings, dad. I’m pretty sure you’ve met Vikings!”

Stoic paused, to actually consider that.

It was one of the increasingly large number of things about this conversation which was not Normal, but he was willing to give it a go.

“...hm,” he said. “That sounds like a pretty good night out, actually.”

“That’s what I’m getting at!” Hiccup agreed, now leaning over more. “Hold on.”

“What is it?”

“Not you, I mean-” Hiccup said, then gestured at someone Stoic couldn’t see.

Or possibly just nearly fell over, the lad was gangly.

“Anyway – uhm – I think the dragons just want to be friends,” Hiccup went on, speaking very quickly. “And that they’re enough like Vikings that all we’re doing is just making them more interested.”

“Nonsense,” Stoic replied.

“Really?” Hiccup asked. “Because – uh – are you at least going to think about it before you decide that I have to be wrong?”

“I don’t need to think about it to know it’s nonsense,” Stoic said, firmly.

“Yeah, that sounds pretty Viking too,” Hiccup muttered. “Stubborn and unwilling to admit that you might be wrong about something… so, uh… what about an experiment?”

“Is this some of that scientific method stuff Gobber had you learning?” Stoic checked.

It sounded a bit suspect, to him.

“Yeah, actually,” Hiccup agreed. “But if something happens you can’t say it’s impossible, right?”

Stoic carefully considered the question.

If something happens, you can’t say it’s impossible.

“All right, so let’s accept that for the sake of argument,” he allowed. “What kind of thing?”

“So I gave a Terrible Terror a fish,” Hiccup said. “Once. And now I literally cannot get it to stop rubbing against my ankles, making a kind of purring noise, and curling up next to my bed when I go to sleep.”

Stoic blinked, looking Hiccup up and down.

“...there doesn’t seem to be a Terrible Terror rubbing against your ankles,” he said.

“Yeah, because I can’t stop it, but Toothless can,” Hiccup explained. “Because, uh, there’s this Night Fury…”

“A Night Fury?” Stoic repeated, then went back over the conversation and reprocessed this new information through it.

“...are you telling me you befriended a Night Fury?” he asked. “How?”

“I shot it down,” Hiccup replied. “And, uh… since then I’ve kind of been testing the hypothesis, that’s more of the whole science thing, and it took like eight seconds to convince the Monstrous Nightmare in the training pens that I was a cool guy to be around. I just kind of smiled and that was it?”

He shrugged, then finally lost the battle against keeping the Night Fury out of the doorframe, and the Unholy Offspring of Lightning and Death Itself slowly pushed the leaning Hiccup across the doorframe.

Then spotted Stoic, groonked something, and sat on his haunches like a giant, attentive dog mixed with a curious cat possessed of a penchant for pushing things off tables.

Stoic spent several seconds contemplating what to do, then – experimentally – threw his hammer at the beast.

It ducked, letting Hiccup topple over with a thump, then loped off after the hammer. A few seconds later, a Terror sat on the prone Hiccup’s side and curled up before visibly and very quickly going to sleep.

“You, uh… see what I mean?” Hiccup asked.

The Night Fury came back, tail swishing from side to side, and deposited the thrown hammer eagerly in front of the door before making a pleased sort of gronk-chirp.

Stoic gave up.

This was now Normal.

Making that new categorization was going to save a lot of time.

“My working theory is that, to dragons, we’re friend shaped,” Hiccup said, still trapped under the snoozing Terror.

[our-marvel-universe]

Second Chances

Second Chances Part 1

Ex-Husband!Steve x Reader

Summary: You and Steve have a history. Right now you are just friends but what if he wants more?

Warnings: Smut, oral (m receiving), PIV, mild jealousy

WC: 4.9K

A/N: I'm so happy to finally introduce you all to Ex-Husband!Steve! I started this forever ago and I thought it would be just a one shot but it has just gotten longer and longer, and harder to finish. So I'm hoping introducing this pair to the world and getting some feedback will inspire me to actually finish this story!

“Ok I don’t get it” Sam finally relents.

“You don’t get what?” Steve replies to his friend without taking his eyes off you. You're across the bar headed to the pool table with some guy Steve doesn’t recognize. He’s pretty sure the top you're wearing is new. You look gorgeous, but then again you always do. 

“What is the deal with you two? And don’t tell me it’s not nothing cause there's clearly some history there.” Sam insists. 

“Ohh wow, this is a new low punk, even for you.” Bucky chimes in.

Steve clears his throat and uses his only excuse. “It’s not a big deal.” 

“You never even told him? Seriously!?”  Bucky snapped, his voice low and tight in an attempt to restrain himself from reaching across the table and pummeling his best friend. 

“Told me what?” Sam asks, his patience wearing thin. 

“You are looking at the former Mrs. Rogers.” Bucky takes a long pull from his beer as he watches Sam’s eyes practically pop out of his head. 

“You two were married!?”

“Yup” Bucky says emphasizing the P.

“Damn it’s worse than I thought” Sam scoffs.

Despite what his two best friends are about to say he never lied to Sam. Technically he was single when he and Sam met. Besides, Steve didn’t like to talk about it, didn’t even like to think about it. When he did think about you, which was about every 45 seconds or so, he tried to only focus on the good things.

The way you light up when you laugh. The way you always insist on taking a million photos to commemorate any and every occasion. How doing the dishes somehow always turned into a dance party. The way you would curl up on him at the end of a long day. 

Knowing he doesn’t need to sit through this next part he makes his way to the bar to grab another round of drinks.

“So what happened?” Sam asks Bucky.

“They got married young, really young. Which probably wasn’t the best idea, but they were in love and Steve was headed off to war and you know how it is.” Sam nods in agreement, letting Bucky continue.

“We enlisted together. She made us both promise we’d bring each other home. The first tour was hard on her I could tell even on video chat it was like she was just holding her breath till we came back. The next couple times were a little easier, we came home once before why wouldn’t we come home again? We were on our 3rd tour, about a month out from coming home when,” Bucky places his metal arm on the table he inspects it carefully opening and closing his fist. 

“We got hit. I got blown from the Humvee and ended up losing my arm. Steve was ok, physically but..we lost a couple of good men that day.” The brunette sighs. “After the accident her and Steve took care of me. They visited me at the hospital everyday and eventually took me in when I got out. I had been out of the hospital for a few weeks when Steve told us he was going back.

"She just couldn’t do it anymore. The waiting, the worry, the distance, especially with me having been hurt she was convinced Steve would come back in a casket, and I wasn’t so sure she was wrong. But you know Steve. They fought… a lot and eventually she laid out an ultimatum. If he enlisted again she wouldn’t be there when he got back.“

“Damn.” Sam said, shaking his head, “That must have been hard for her to admit.” Bucky nodded in agreement. “And he really just left?”

“Yeah. Looking back on it now, I realize nothing was going to stop him from going. Everyone told him to stay, me, his mom, the whole damn town tried to convince him but he wouldn’t hear any of it. I kept hoping he would change his mind, you know, that he’d stop being so pig headed, but no, he just had to go. The day after he left she contacted a lawyer.” Bucky stops to take a long swing of beer. 

“But the former Mrs. Rogers is nothing if not a saint, even with her heart broken she still put all her energy into helping me heal. She let me live with her even after Steve left, took me to all my physical therapy and Dr. appointments, helped me get the hang of the prosthetic” He says flexing his fist on his metal arm. “I owe her everything. That punks lucky I didn’t leave him too.” scoffed Bucky.

“Ohh yeah why didn’t you?” Sam asks

“Because” Bucky said as he leaned back in his chair, “she wouldn’t let me.”

Steve is sitting at the bar, he could go back to the table with Bucky and Sam but he figures he’ll give them a few minutes to cool off and change the subject before he ventures back. He keeps his eye practically glued on the bartenders, watching them work helps him resist the urge to turn around and look at you. He knows you’re over by the pool table. He can picture you taking your time, totally focused, biting your lip as you  line up your shot. He can imagine it perfectly; the only thing better than his imagination would be turning around and seeing it in real time. 

He sees you land at the bar a couple stools down from him and watches as Pepper approaches you. 

“So it looks like the date is going well” Pepper says while starting on your drink.

“I don’t know if it’s a date per say. ” You say with a playful glare “But yes, Scott and I are having a good time.” 

Steve looks up just in time to see you shoot him a wave and a small smile before thanking Pepper and heading back to your game.

His jaw is so tight he’s worried he might actually crack a tooth and it’s like the entire world’s gone quiet. He’s not sure if what he’s feeling right now is rage or heartbreak, it’s probably both. Pepper is the one that breaks him out of his stupor.

“Loosen the grip on that will ya?” She says pointing at the beer bottle in his hand, “I’ll have to clean it up if you break it.”  

Steve puts the bottle down flexing his fists, before he can even ask she places a double shot of whiskey in front of him.

He tosses it back, then slaps some cash on the bar before heading for the door.

Steve isn’t a complete prick. At least he doesn’t mean to be, but it’s hard. As much as he wants you as much as his body wants yours that is not an option, and he’s still human. So every once in a while he sates his urges with an actual woman and not just his hand.  It’s a small town, people talk, so when he does need relief he heads up the highway. Making sure to avoid any place that you or anyone from town may decide to venture to. 

It’s never anything serious, usually just a night. There was Sharon last summer. He saw her for a couple weeks but he made it very clear it was never going to turn into anything and she was perfectly happy to get his late night booty calls. 

It’s been a few days since that night at the bar, Bucky has been on Steve’s case more than ever and now he has Sam as back up. Plus the vision of you on your date, is permanently etched into his brain. Where you looked so beautiful. Christ all he wanted to do was bend you over the pool table and….

Needless to say, jacking off was not going to be enough. 

So here he is. In some back alley behind some trendy bar in the city with what he assumes is probably a perfectly lovely lady on her knees sucking him off. But it’s hard to picture you when it’s clearly not you staring back at him. Before he can lose his hard on, he yanks her up and pushes her against the brick. He would apologize for being so rough but she moans out a yes at the manhandling so clearly she's into it. 

Facing away from him, ass up, he never preferred this position until he lost you. When he was with you all he wanted was to see your face. To kiss every inch of you, feel your sweat slicked skin against his, and look into your eyes as you came undone. He always wanted to be close to you, touching you. But he can’t have that so he settles for this. 

In all honesty this girl isn’t bad, she's just not you. She’s moaning and grinding against him in a way that's too performative, but when he hears a sigh a real sigh it almost sounds like yours and that's all he needs. He keeps hitting her sweet spot and rubbing her clit and he's so lost in his vision of you he actually calls out your name.

Now he’s not going to say this has never happened before, because it has. In 5 years of missing you and pretending to move on he has, on more than one occasion called out your name while another woman rides his cock. He’s not particularly proud of this fact, but it’s true. But this time the worst part is, he didn’t even notice. He turned to dump the used condom in the dumpster in that and when he turned around his face slams into a fist. He wasn’t entirely sure what happened cradling his face; he tries to get his bearings when he hears.

“You piece of shit my name is Kristy!!!” 

Damn. She knew how to throw a punch. In a moment of complete and utter shame Steve slides to the ground completely defeated.

Steve opens the door of his apartment to find Bucky sitting on his couch drinking his beer. Great, exactly what he needs to top this night off.

“What happened to you?” Bucky asks as Steve heads to the kitchen to grab a bag of frozen peas for his soon to be black eye. 

“Got punched in the face” 

“Obviously punk. Who’d you piss off this time.”

"Girl at a bar.” He mumbles then winces as he adjusts the bag on his face.

“Damn, bet she has brothers. Good ones too since she landed a solid hit” Bucky muses.

Steve doesn't bother acknowledging his friend. He simply grabs a glass and a bottle of whiskey before taking a seat on the couch. They sit quietly for a bit, when finally Bucky breaks the silence.

“So, what’s your plan here?”

“What the hell are you talking about Buck?”

“What am I…” Bucky takes a deep breath and stands calming himself  before he gives his friend a second black eye. “I’m talking about the fact that it’s been 5 years Steve. Five long years of you pining and making those sad puppy dog eyes when you think no one is paying attention. Which we all are by the way. You’re constantly pouting, until God forbid a guy shows any interest in her at which point you become absolutely unbearable.” Bucky is pacing now the pressure of keeping quiet all these year has finally come to an end and he's decided to finally air his grievances.

“You sit by the phone waiting for her to have a flat tire or for her furnace to bust, all so you can ride in like her knight in shining armor. Whatever she needs you’re always there. You’ve had every opportunity but instead of telling her how you feel you go out and fuck other girls pretending they’re her. All the while knowing you’d both be a lot fucking happier if you were together.” Finally Bucky stops his pacing and instead grabs a seat on the coffee table looking his friend right in the eyes. 

“So I ask again -  What. Is. Your. Plan?” 

Steve drains his glass then watches as his best friend pours him a refill. He drains that too, tosses the frozen bag down as he throws his head back and stares at the ceiling. 

“I don’t know Buck. All I know is I don’t want to live without her.”

“Ok then.” Bucky pours Steve one last refill “That’s a start.”  He says getting up to take the bottle back to the kitchen. “Word of advice, you better figure out a plan. And soon, because no one has the time or the patience to wait around for you to get your head out of your ass.” Bucky goes to grab his coat when he stops.

“Ohh and make sure you clean yourself up for tomorrow. Arm’s been acting up. I gotta go see the doc. You’ll have to handle all the morning appointments.“

“You couldn’t have just called to tell me?” Steve scoffs at his friend. “You had to come here and harass me and drink all my beer?”

“Yeah well, it’s more fun for me this way.” He chuckles as he heads out “See you tomorrow punk.”

Steve gets ready to head downstairs to Twin Tires, the shop he and Bucky opened after Steve finally left the army. Luckily for him he lives in the apartment right above the shop so he doesn’t have to rush to get down there. Which is good cause on this particular morning he feels like shit. 

After Bucky left he kept drowning his sorrows in whiskey imagining what life would be like if you had stayed together. Between the what ifs, his hangover and his black eye this day is off to an awful start. And now he has to deal with the shop himself cause Bucky’s not coming in till noon. Needless to say when he heads downstairs he’s in a shit mood, but then he hears you. 

He’s not sure what you’re saying or who you’re talking to but he’s sure it’s you. Fuck Bucky. In an instant Steve realizes Bucky knew you were coming by the shop today. All that ‘look good tomorrow shit’, he knew Bucky was up to something. You’re probably picking him up for his Dr’s appointment damn it. 

Steve curses under his breath, stepping out into the Lobby where you’re with Bucky. He was so focused on you he completely forgot about how rough he looks until you look up at him shocked.

Abandoning your conversation with Bucky you rush towards Steve without a second thought. 

“Omigod Steve! What happened?” You cup his face in your hands gently coaxing him to bend down so you can take a look.

“Aww he’s fine doll. He’s seen worse” Bucky chuckles as he takes a smug sip of his coffee.

Bucky isn’t wrong Steve has seen much worse, but at this moment he is not fine because your hands are on him. They’re so warm and soft, and he can smell that hand cream you use. In a split second you envelope all his senses and take him back to a time when the two of you always had your hands on each other. 

Steve’s breath fans across your wrists and realizing how close you are you take a step back. .“Well it doesn’t look too bad” You say as you begin to bite your lip, a nervous tick Steve immediately picks up on, it takes all his strength not to stare at your mouth like a horny tennager, so instead he moves behind the desk. 

“It’s fine. It’ll heal soon I promise.” Steve says in an attempt to reassure you, even if he knows it won’t work. He clears his throat as he opens the appointment book. 

"You two should get going, you don’t want to be late."

“You’re right Stevie I don’t.” Buck says with a wink as he heads to the door unaccompanied. “You two have fun, don’t get into too much trouble.”

“Bye Buck!” You wave him off.

“You’re not going with him?” Steve asks.

“What? No Clint is taking him, he didn’t tell you?” There you go biting your lip again, has it always been this distracting?

He knows he’s been starting too long when you gently call his name again.  Shaking his head out of his stupor he tries to actually focus on the conversation at hand. “Tell me what?” 

You look like a deer caught in headlights before you grab a coffee cup out of the tray on the counter and hand it to him. 

“This is for you. I made it myself with those beans you like at the shop just before coming over here.”

Steve stares at the coffee, then at you. He’s perplexed by the coffee, he knows it will be exactly how he likes it. He still goes to the bakery for coffee and it’s always perfect. But he’s confused as to why you would bring it to him on this particular morning. 

“Sweetheart…what’s going on?”

"Well I was hoping I could ask you for a favor…."

“Christ.”

“OK, Look I know this is a lot to ask but he’s a good kid Steve, a great kid! And this way not only will he have a car but he will also be learning practical life skills and an honest work ethic!"

“He already works with you. I am positive you instill plenty of work ethic in him.” Steve chugs the last of his coffee before tossing the cup in the trash behind him.

 “How on earth did you let May talk you into something like this?” He asks.

“She didn’t talk me into anything” You scoff, “it was my idea.“Look it's an old car, with good bones it just needs to be fixed up a bit. Besides, I mean don’t get me wrong I love having Peter at the shop but he’s a tinkerer ya know?” Now you're all worked up, Steve knows how much you love May and her nephew Peter, not to mention he knows how passionate you get about these collaborations you come up with. 

“He likes taking things apart and putting them back together, and working with his hands,” Steve cuts you off.

“Last time I checked baking is done with your hands.” He simply shrugs at the glare you give him.

“Where’d this car come from anyway?” He asks in an attempt to make peace. 

“One of May’s old boyfriends. He didn't know a socket wrench from an open wrench, but apparently he was convinced he could put it back together. He left it and hasn’t been back since. It’s just been collecting dust.” 

“Look,” You insist, planting your hands on the counter. “I know this is a big ask but when you think about it it’s a win, win scenario.” 

“Ohh yeah” Steve scoffs “How so?”

“Well Pete is a young man, who needs more positive male influences in his life. He’ll get that,” You say ticking off your fingers, “practical life experience, plus a new car.” 

“This sounds like a lot of wins for Peter and none for me.”

“And you” You say poking him in the chest “You get an apprentice!” 

“I don’t need an apprentice.” He protests rolling his eyes  before turning and heading back to the shop to get set up for the day. 

“Come on," You inevitably follow him. Just like you knew you would, " everyone needs an apprentice. Someone you can groom to take over the business when you’re ready to pass it on, just like Sarah did with me.”

“Look at Johnny Hunt , he had no one to take over for him so when he got hurt his store just closed. It was tragic. I don’t want that to happen to you Steve, could you imagine everything you worked for just gone.” 

“You spend a lot of time thinking about my business doll?” He has to hold back his smirk as you get visibly embarrassed by his question. Deciding to put you out of your misery before you have to answer he immediately gets back to the topic.

“What about Buck? It’s his business too, I can’t just hire an apprentice with his input.”

“Well I already asked him. He thinks it’s a great idea.”

“You asked him about fixing up the car, or about your plans to hand our business over to some smartass kid?”

“He said, and I quote ‘the sooner Steve teaches this kid to do the books the sooner I can retire to Palm Springs.'" 

Steve hangs his head. He knows he’s going to give in, not only is it you asking but his soon to be former best friend has already agreed. But mostly it’s you. He can never say no to you, not anymore, not after all he did. But he knows you will will sit here and argue with him till the sun goes down only to come back tomorrow and start again.  So he decides to drag his heels for a little longer if only to extend his time with you. 

But when he turns around to look up at you he completely loses his train of thought. The light from the window surrounds you making you look even brighter and more beautiful. Your eyes are boring into his with a pleading look when you say “Will you at least  take a look at the car please? For me?”

And that’s when Steve knows he’s a goner. 

Steve throws a towel at Bucky as he waltz back into the shop. Bucky easily catches it and settles himself on the stool next to Steve's station. He says nothing, taking a sip from his drink.

“You could've told me.” Steve huffs before diving back under the hood in an attempt to ignore his friend. 

“And why would I tell you, when you are much more apt to say yes if she asked you?” Bucky smirks as Steve's scowl deepens. “Besides it’s her project, why should I ask you?”

“More important question is why would you say yes!?” Steve practically shouts as he tosses down his tools and heads back into the office. The other guys working in the shop pretend to look busy as the bosses pass them. 

“Look there's no downside ok. We get to help out a good kid.” Bucky shakes his head at Steve's look of disbelief. “Look Parker can be annoying but he is a good kid ok? No one has a bad thing to say about him. And the guys are great with cars, but not with business. They can fix shit sure but no one out there can do the books, or even wants to learn but maybe one day Parker actually could and then we’d have someone to take all this over so I can finally take a vacation.” The brunette makes himself comfortable in Steve’s desk chair, putting his feet up and his arms behind his head. “Besides, now you’ve got some extra sweet brownie points with your girl and that sure as shit can’t hurt.”

That last comment makes Steve deflate “She’s not..” Bucky waves his hand cutting him off,

“Yeah, yeah save me the speech.” Electing to ignore his friend he continues  “So when does Parker start?”

Steve has been ruminating over it for days, and he has come to the irrevocable conclusion that having Peter Parker work in his shop is a terrible idea. He was ready to call the whole thing off. But then this morning he came downstairs and found you leaning on the side of your car with a box from your shop sitting on the hood. Seeing you standing there, glowing in the morning sun  in what happens to be his favorite dress of yours, he knew this was a done deal. No matter what he previously thought now he was going to  follow through on this crazy plan of yours.  

“Good morning!” You cheer, already holding out Steve’s coffee cup as he walks towards you. 

“Morning Doll, what's all this?”

“This is just a little thank you.” You say as Steve takes a sip of the coffee. He’d never tell his Ma, but your coffee is a million times better. “I just wanted to thank you again. I really think this will be so good for Peter and… “ Steve cuts you off. 

“Sweetheart, you already thanked me about a thousand times. Besides, you weren��t wrong, it could be good to have some extra hands around here.” Steve concedes with a shrug. While he ignores how hypocritical he is considering he was singing a different tune 2 min ago.

“Steven Grant Rogers, did you just admit I was right?” You’re smirking at him and you’ve got a mischievous twinkle in your eye and damn it if that doesn’t make his heart speed up. 

“Well, possibly. I mean for all we know Parker could be a disaster who should never step foot near an engine, only time will tell.” Steve chuckles as you lightly slap him on the arm.

“You just wait, Rogers, you’ll be eating your words soon enough!”

The two of you are standing less than a foot apart. Steve decides this is not close enough. It dawns on him, you are standing a foot apart in a parking lot, that is the set up for a brief conversation before the two of you run off in your separate directions. But that is not what he wants. All Steve wants is more time with you. So he quickly asks. 

“Are there enough in there to share?”

The two of you head back to the office and settle in over your makeshift breakfast. You take a bite of the scone and your eyes roll back in your head as you quietly moan at the taste.

“You’re acting like you’ve never tried any doll, you made ‘em” Steve chuckles before taking a bite.

“I mean I did” you laugh softly as you dust crumbs from your dress, “But I decided to tweak the recipe and this is my first time trying it” you bashfully admit.

“Man that's what I get as a thank you? New recipe scones? What if they had been a flop?” 

You laugh at his faux scolding and the sound lights him up from the inside out.“That’s why I brought them. I knew if you didn’t like them then I couldn’t sell them.” You shrug “Besides, I have brownies in the car as a backup” You say giving him a wink as you take another bite.

“I know you don’t think you’re leaving here with those sweetheart.” 

You’re talking his ear off, he has books to update, parts to order and schedules to make and if it was anyone else he would have told them to leave the food at the front desk and went back to his office without a second glance. 

But it isn’t just anyone…it’s you.

This may be what he misses most. Sitting with you, talking about nothing and everything, tasting your new recipes. The most mundane days were always better when he had you.

Steve thinks this might be the moment. He can ask you out to dinner. Or maybe it’d be better if he cooked for you? Either way he will be securing a date with you before you leave this office, he’s determined. Right as he goes to open his mouth to invite you on what will hopefully be a life altering date, there’s a knock on the door. Without waiting for a response Bucky waltzes right in, and makes a beeline straight for the box on the desk. 

“Ohh scones” Bucky sings, but before he can reach the box Steve snatches it out of the way. 

“They're not for you Buck.” Steve grumbles with a glare.

“Aww come on Stevie don’t be like that” Bucky’s pout turns to you as you begin to stand. “Doll tell him he has to share!” 

“Don’t be too sad Bucky, I have brownies in the car. If you come grab them then they're all yours.” 

Steve starts to panic as you begin to grab your stuff. “You’re leaving already?”

“Yeah, I should get going. Besides I need to get out of your hair, you probably have a busy day.” 

Steve moves out from behind the desk, trying to think of a reason to get you to stay but before he can say anything you're right in his space, leaning up and planting a kiss on his cheek. Thanking him again before you leave his office Bucky hot on your heels.

When Bucky comes back in a couple minutes later with a smug look on his face it takes all of Steve's strength not to wring his neck.

“Brownie for your troubles?”

“God I hate you” Steve mumbles keeping his eyes on the screen as Bucky gets comfortable in the seat you were occupying moments ago. 

“Hey don’t get mad at me. All I did was come in here to say hello, not my fault she ran off” Bucky notes before taking a bite of his brownie. “Damn, these are good.” 

Steve rolls his eyes.

“So are you making any progress?” 

Before Steve can tell Bucky to mind his goddamn business his phone lights up with a text from you. 

I told Bucky he has to share the brownies with you, but feel free to hog all the scones ;) 

Steve smirks as he reaches over and snatches up a brownie. 

OMG part 1!! Can you believe? What did y'all think? Do you just love these 2? Do you want to see more of them? Leave a comment below because reblogs and comments fuel the muse.

[scary-grace]

The Yawning Grave - a Shigaraki x F!reader fic

Tomura and his friends might look like a team of paranormal investigators, but they're actually professional hoaxers -- every episode of their hit show has been faked. The episode they're filming in an abandoned town in a temperate rainforest is no different. At least at first. Rated T trending M in later chapters, found footage horror tropes, filmmaker!Tomura. Title/chapter headings based on The Yawning Grave by Lord Huron.

omens and signs

Tomura wakes up slowly, but he’d rather not be awake at all – and what he hears when the grogginess starts to fade doesn’t do much to change that impression. “I’m not pulling over again, Dabi. Take your Dramamine.”

“How am I supposed to take my Dramamine if I can’t stop hurling long enough for it to work?”

“Maybe we should pull over long enough for Dabi to take his Dramamine and then digest it,” Twice suggests. “No, that’s a bad idea. Let’s make him throw up until he’s empty and we don’t have to stop again.”

“How about we don’t do any of that,” Toga says. Her voice sounds sweet, but Tomura knows just as well as anybody what she sounds like when she’s about to cut a bitch, and it’s a little too close for comfort. “Dabi, keep your mouth closed. Spinner, don’t floor it around the curves. Jin, don’t laugh. Tomura, don’t –”

Tomura pretends he’s asleep. Toga reaches into the backseat and punches him in the arm, at which point he sits upright in a hurry. “What?”

“Tell Spinner to drive slower,” she says, smiling at him, “and tell Dabi to stop talking.”

“Stop talking,” Tomura says to Dabi. Dabi gives him both middle fingers, way, way up. “Spinner has to drive fast. We need to be there and setting up camp by nightfall.”

“Yeah. Otherwise our nighttime shaky-cam breakdowns won’t be anywhere near as scary.”

“Right.” Tomura doesn’t need to be awake for this. He can film a found-footage documentary hoax in his sleep.

Tomura used to be into debunking this stuff. Then he realized that he could make a hell of a lot more money faking it, and have a lot more fun in the bargain. Now, instead of trying to prove that reality really is as boring as it looks, Tomura and his friends have turned their professional skeptic side-hustle into a full-time business faking the stuff they used to debunk. And because Tomura’s still a skeptic at heart, he knows how to skeptic-proof his hoaxes.

First step: Pick a spot that’s no more than locally famous. Find some local legends – there are always at least a few. Case the joint, figure out what type of haunting or infestation would be the most believable, and then make it look and sound as real as possible. Sometimes that means wholesale making shit up, which is fine. Tomura and his crew have gotten called out plenty of times, but they’ve never been caught before.

“I don’t know, guys,” Twice says as Spinner takes another curve at slightly less than warp speed. “I feel weird about this one. That guy at the gas station acted like we were nuts.”

“Gas station guys always act like that.”

“Not exactly like that.” Dabi sounds like he’s speaking through clenched teeth. “He said it was a paper town. Named after that book. But I looked it up before Spinner started auditioning for fucking Formula One, and it’s been on the map since before the book was published.”

The book – ’Salem’s Lot, by Stephen King. Tomura read it, liked it, and then, when he was scanning maps looking for a place to plan the next hoax, he spotted it. A rain-drenched dot on the map, in America’s Pacific Northwest, labeled Jerusalem’s Lot. Same as the town in the book that gets overrun by vampires. “So he named the book after this place,” Tomura says, and Dabi twists around to glare at him. “Come on. Don’t tell me you’re getting spooked.”

“Twice is right. There was something weird about that guy,” Dabi says. “We spooked him, not the other way around. There’s something going on here that –”

Spinner zips around another bend in the road, and Dabi scrambles to roll the window down. “He does have a point,” Toga says, like there’s not rain and wind whipping through the car and Dabi gagging like a cat with a hairball. “There aren’t legends about this place or anything. We’ve gotten the dumb-college-kid treatment a million times –”

“Which is dumb,” Spinner puts in. “We’re not in college.”

Toga ignores him, too. “But that guy looked surprised at first. Then he looked nervous. And he said something weird.”

“Play it back,” Tomura instructs. Toga digs out the camera.

Gas station guy looks like every other gas station guy they’ve encountered, but as Toga plays it back, Tomura watches the same emotions she named cross his face. Surprise, then nerves. “Salem’s Lot is a paper town.” There’s a pause. “Ain’t nothing living up there that’s human.”

“Nice work getting that line out of him,” Tomura tells Toga, who was doing the interview. “It’ll be great for the promos.”

“Nothing living up there that’s human. He could just mean animals,” Twice pipes up. “The more rural it is, the weirder everybody talks. Remember those old guys with the accents?”

Even the films Tomura’s made in rural Japan has featured old guys with accents. They’re practically a genre staple. “It’s true. People use different syntax in rural areas than in the city,” Spinner says. “Still, though. It’s –”

Dabi pulls his head back in through the window and rolls it up. “It’s easy to hear that line as meaning that there’s something inhuman in ’Salem’s Lot.”

“Which is why it’s perfect,” Tomura says. “Don’t crack up on me. Any of you. If something had happened here, there’d be legends about it. Local myths. Something other than an old guy at a gas station talking about paper towns.”

“There’s one reason why there wouldn’t be legends,” Spinner says from the front seat. “If nobody made it out alive.”

Tomura doesn’t expect that kind of shit out of his crew, and for a split second, he wonders if there’s anything to what they’re saying. Then he spots the blinking red light of one of their pocket cameras, and a mic settled down in the hood of Toga’s jacket, and swears. “You all think you’re fucking hilarious, don’t you?”

“You should have seen your face,” Twice wheezes. “We got you so good –”

“How much of it did you just make up?” Tomura snaps. “Did you bribe that old guy while I was taking a leak?”

“No, he just said it,” Toga says. “All the stuff we said is true. And if it spooked you for a second, Tomura-kun, it’s definitely going to spook the audience.”

She’s right. Still, Tomura doesn’t like ending up on the wrong end of a hoax, and he’s pretty sure he knows whose idea this was. “Did you fake being carsick, too?”

“Did I fool you?” Dabi asks – and then Spinner whips around a corner too fast, and Dabi lunges for the window again. The carsickness is for real. Tomura wonders if he can convince Spinner to drive even faster.

They make it to Jerusalem’s Lot just past four o’clock, which leaves them enough daylight to poke around, record some B-roll, and get a few exterior shots in. The guy at the gas station was bullshitting them – there’s clearly a town up here. Houses, a main street, buildings, streetlights, all of it well on its way to being swallowed up by the rainforest. “How fast do you think stuff like this grows in?”

“These are all native plants,” Spinner says from where he’s crouched down, examining a nest of ferns. “This is their optimal environment. So if nobody was cutting them back, this could happen in – a few years, maybe. Most of these buildings are wood. If we came back fifteen years from now, there’d probably be nothing left.

Which means it can’t have been abandoned for very long – well within living memory. Tomura rolls his shoulders, limbering up. “Let’s find an establishing shot and get this done.”

Tomura calls the big shots, but everybody else fills in with smaller ones they think they might need in the editing process. Tomura puts up with two or three extra shots from everybody before they refocus. He should have written a script. What’s going to come out of his mouth is probably going to be pretty stupid.

“I’m Shigaraki Tomura. We’re the League of Villains. Today we’re investigating Jerusalem’s Lot, an American small town – which, according to the locals, doesn’t exist.”

They asked one local. They’ll go back with the camera on the way out and bother some people until they pick up enough footage to make it look like they’re trying to hide something instead of just trying to get away. This is where they’ll splice in Gas Station Guy with his creepy comment. “As you can see behind me, Jerusalem’s Lot is very real – or it was. Join us as we try to figure out what happened here, and if there’s anything alive in Jerusalem’s Lot after all.”

“Nice, boss,” Twice remarks. It’s a good thing it’s cold out. Tomura gets sweaty when he’s on camera, and he needs to air his armpits out. “The mic might have gotten fuzzy because of the wind, but we can dub over it in post, easy.”

“I like the lighting out here,” Toga says. “There are some holes in the canopy where sun will get through. If it’s ever sunny.”

“It’s supposed to be sunny tomorrow,” Spinner says, shivering. “It better be. I’ll freeze to death.”

Dabi rolls his eyes. “Sure you will.”

“I will. And then you guys will probably use my body to jazz up a shot, because you all suck –”

Tomura tunes them out and goes picking his way up what was probably the main street of ’Salem’s Lot. He’s visited a lot of small towns, even more ghost towns, but there’s something different about this place. Maybe it’s all the greenery. Ghost towns in other places fall to dust. It’s not usual to see one that’s actively being eaten alive – or dead – by the woods. People lived here. People either got up and left or they died here. The former, almost always. Tomura identifies a couple houses that look semi-structurally sound as potential filming spots for tomorrow, then makes his way back to the others.

Coming to Jerusalem’s Lot was the right choice, and as they set up camp and build a fire, the League’s mood is good. Unusually good, given the conditions they’re camping out in. “I think this one is going to be awesome,” Toga says, the firelight glinting off her teeth. “This place would be spooky even without the buildings. All the moss and lichen – and the fog –”

“We could do a haunting for this place,” Spinner suggests. “Ghosts and stuff. We haven’t done that in a while.”

“Yeah, the last time was that mansion in New Hampshire,” Twice says. Then he frowns. “We didn’t have to fake that one.”

No, they didn’t. They all saw things in that house, enough for them to scrap the episode and not come back. Tomura has a strict hoaxes-only rule these days. “Ghosts are easy to do in post-production, but for a town this size, we’d need to fake multiple ghosts,” Dabi says. “And if we have that many ghosts, we have to explain where they came from.”

“Maybe an epidemic?” Toga suggests. “We haven’t done disease in a while, either.”

“That would be tough to pull off, unless we invented something,” Tomura says. “They don’t have the Ebola virus up here.”

Nobody likes it when Tomura mentions the Ebola virus. He sees their expressions and decides to pay them back a bit for their bullshit earlier. “There’s always plague, though. Pneumonic and septicemic plague could both kill fast enough that they wouldn’t have had time to get help.”

“Then we should keep an eye out for skeletons tomorrow,” Spinner says. “And somebody’s gonna need to hold Twice’s hand so he doesn’t freak out and drop the camera. Again.”

“That was one time!”

“We can’t fake skeletons,” Dabi says. “We can fake creatures.”

Tomura rolls his eyes. “You know how hard it is to fake creatures. What would we even fake around here?”

“Vampires,” Twice offers. “Like that book.”

“That would be really hard to fake,” Toga remarks. “Isn’t there some kind of cryptid that’s native to this place? Something tall and furry?”

“Yeah, it’s like a –” Tomura thinks back on his notes. “Sasquatch. Or a Bigfoot.”

“We can’t use that,” Spinner says at once. “It sounds too goofy.”

“Yeah, the airport kiosks were selling it on t-shirts,” Twice agrees. “No vampires. No big furry guys. So that leaves – uh –”

“We could try crawlers,” Toga suggests, and Dabi starts to argue. “I know we’ve used them before, but – why can’t there be different subspecies? Crawlers in a temperate rainforest wouldn’t look anything like crawlers in the Andes mountains.”

It’s quiet for a second. “If you guys are going to make me wear the crawler suit again, I want overtime,” Spinner mutters, and Dabi grins across the campfire. “So what are we doing tomorrow, then – film documentary stuff in the morning, crawler stuff in the afternoon?”

“Works for me.” Tomura yawns. “I’m tired. Don’t forget to put the fire out.”

Inside his tent, Tomura sets up his personal camera to record. He’s not sure if everyone else does, too, but they’re supposed to – to pick up any weird things that happen during the night, any inexplicable sounds or shadows, whether they wake up to it or not. Usually it just catches him tossing and turning, and he deletes the footage in postproduction. Tomura unzips his sleeping bag, shuts off his camping lantern, and closes his eyes. This shoot is going to go well. There’s enough here for a solid hoax. Aside from Spinner in a crawler suit, they’re not going to have to make anything up.

Tomura sleeps solidly, straight through the night. He wakes up without an alarm, better rested than usual, and fumbles for his phone, which he’s pretty sure he left on the pillow next to him. The phone’s not there, but something else is, something small and cold and metal. When Tomura blinks sleep out of his eyes, lifts it to inspect it, he finds that it’s a heart-shaped locket, clinging to life on a frail chain.

Tomura’s friends are going to be on their bullshit for this entire shoot, it looks like. Still, the locket’s a nice touch, and if they fuck with the shot of Toga planting it on Tomura’s pillow, they can make it look like it appeared out of nowhere. Even if they’ve decided on crawlers, it won’t hurt to wave a red herring about ghosts.

But when he shows it to Toga, he gets a blank look and nothing else. “I didn’t put that there. I’ve never seen it before.”

Tomura’s about to tell her to cut the bullshit when he realizes that Dabi’s camera is on. No way is Toga dropping the story while she’s being filmed, and Tomura might as well play along. “Take a look at it. Maybe it’ll give us a clue about what happened here.”

“Hmm.” Toga lifts the locket out of Tomura’s hand and starts inspecting it between sips of coffee. “14-karat gold – not bad, but not over-the-top expensive. It’s on a box chain, which is interesting. They’re not as common as other varieties of chain, but they’re sturdy. See how tightly they’re interlocked? Something like this wouldn’t break easily. And the clasp’s still intact. The person who owned this took it off on purpose.”

She glances up at Tomura, eyes exaggeratedly wide. “What’s inside it?”

By this point, they’ve drawn Spinner and Twice over. They and Tomura hover over Toga’s shoulders as she pries the locket open. “There are photos,” she starts, and then her shoulders slump, her voice going small. “This was a kid’s. A little girl’s.”

Toga’s the best actor on the team. The rest of them need to take lessons. “How do you know?”

“On this side –” Toga holds it up, and Spinner digs up his phone to zoom in. “There’s a picture of two people. Based on their age, I’m guessing they’re her parents. And on the other side – that’s her dog.”

“Right. An adult would have photos of their spouse,” Dabi says from across the fire. “Or their kids. Parents and dog says kid. How do you know it’s a girl?”

“How many boys do you know who’d wear a heart-shaped locket?”

Dabi starts ribbing Toga for being sexist, and she argues back that he wouldn’t wear a locket if she paid him, and under cover of an argument that’s only half-staged, Tomura inspects the locket a little closer. It’s definitely a dog on one side of the locket, some goofy mutt-thing with bright eyes and floppy ears, and looking at it pulls Tomura’s vocal cords tight. He’d maybe have worn a locket as a kid, if his sister or somebody else had given him one. And he’d definitely have put a photo of his dog in it.

But Tomura’s got a couple screws loose. His family made that crystal clear. He snaps the locket shut, then cuts off Toga and Dabi’s stupid argument. “Hey. How old do you think this is?”

“Um –” Toga studies it. “Not an antique. More than ten years, less than thirty.”

“That’s within the time frame,” Spinner says. “How did it end up on your pillow?”

Tomura’s getting tired of this bit. He waits a second or three, then calls cut. “We have a lot to do today. Let’s get going.”

They have an evidence bin for stuff that shows up on shoots, but since the locket’s a joke his friends are playing, Tomura doesn’t feel bad about pocketing it. They left it for him, anyway. Tomura wonders what’s gotten into his friends. They’re a lot more into this shoot than they’ve been on other ones, but maybe that’s a good thing. If there’s one thing Tomura’s work has taught him, it’s that every good hoax needs a small piece of truth at the center of it. The expression Dabi’s camera probably caught on his face when he opened the locket is a good start.

taglist: @shigarakislaughter @lvtuss @deadhands69 @xeveryxstarfallx @cheeseonatower @agente707 @warxhammer @handumb @atspiss @f3r4lfr0gg3r @shikiblessed @evilcookie5 @dance-with-me-in-hell @babybehh @boogiemansbitch @baking-ghoul @minniessskii @issaortiz @aslutforfictionalmen @lacrimae-lotos @stardustdreamersisi @koohiii

[flyingbanananas]

Not Like That (Izou x Reader)

The crew’s always making comments.

You’re not surprised anymore, just half-annoyed, half-used to it. Marco smirks when he passes by you and Izou sitting shoulder to shoulder on the deck. Thatch makes little heart gestures behind your back. Even Ace, not the most observant when it comes to love, raises a brow now and then.

You laugh it all off. So does Izou.

“Not like that,” you always say, even though lately, it doesn’t come out as easily.

_____

~ 5.000 words

The sun’s sinking on the horizon, painting everything in warm colors, when you find Izou in your usual spot, the quiet corner of the upper deck tucked behind a row of crates. He must have been waiting for you for quite some time, legs folded beneath him, with a book in one hand.

He doesn’t look up when he speaks.

“You’re late,” he says, voice smooth as ever. “I nearly finished the chapter without you.”

You roll your eyes and drop down beside him, your shoulder knocking lightly into his. “You could’ve waited.”

“I could have,” he agrees, flipping to the next page. “But you’re always ten minutes late when you say you’ll be here shortly.”

You don’t bother denying it. You just lean sideways, peering over his arm. “What page are we on?”

He taps the line with one finger, and you nod. The spine of the book creaks as he shifts to make more room for you, and without a word, you settle in, thigh pressed lightly to his. The two of you read like this often, cramped in the same space, sharing a single copy, breathing in sync without realizing it.

You’ve been doing it for so long it barely feels unusual.

You read for another half hour like that, heads bent close together, voices brushing against the dusk. He lets you rest your head on his shoulder. At some point, he starts reading every line aloud, and you don’t stop him.

Then someone shouts across the deck.

“Oi, you two! Still pretending you’re just friends?”

You sit up. Groan. “God, Thatch, we’re reading.”

“So that’s what they’re calling it now,” he calls back, winking.

Izou sighs, not even lifting his head. “You know it’s not like that.”

“Oh, sure,” Thatch says, dramatically dragging out the words. “Completely innocent shoulder resting. Just textbook literature appreciation under the stars.”

You roll your eyes, and Izou mutters, “You’re impossible.”

Thatch just laughs and waves it all off. “Yeah, yeah. Come on, lovebirds. Drinks are flowing and we’re losing daylight. Get over here!”

Izou closes the book slowly, marking the page with a sliver of ribbon. “Sounds like chaos is about to start any moment.”

Thatch just grins. “Nah, sounds like a great way to spend the night. You two are always hiding in corners like some dramatic lovers from a romance novel.”

You throw a pebble at him, which you find right next to you. He ducks it easily.

“Come on,” he says again, stepping back. “Ace already started trying to outdrink himself, so we could use the adult supervision.”

Izou rises first, dusting off the back of his kimono. He offers you a hand—familiar, casual. He’s done it a hundred times before, and you’ve always taken it without thinking.

But this time your fingers tingle when they curl around his. His grip lingers a beat too long.

He lets go when you’re steady, and neither of you says a word about it.

_____________

The corner of the deck where the others have gathered is warm with lantern light and low laughter. Someone’s even lit a fire in a metal barrel, and of course, there’s sake and rum passed around in mismatched mugs.

Thatch has already claimed the best seat, a crate turned sideways, and is pouring drinks with clearly too much alcohol in them. One of those concoctions might be enough to make you blackout drunk.

Marco leans against a post, half-lidded gaze flicking to the two of you as you arrive, and Ace sits cross-legged on the deck, already pink-cheeked, grinning for no reason.

“Look who finally decided to grace us with their presence,” Marco says lazily.

Izou drops down beside you, elbow brushing yours as he tucks his legs under himself. “You act like we missed something.”

“You did,” Ace says. “Thatch tried to convince Marco to dance. It almost happened.”

“It absolutely did not,” Marco mutters, and Thatch winks.

“He was tempted.”

You snort as you accept a drink from Thatch, fingers brushing Izou’s briefly when you pass him his. You barely notice it, but they do.

Marco arches a brow at the exchange and Ace nudges Thatch and stage-whispers, “They do this all the time.”

“Do what?” you ask truly not knowing what they mean, but already guessing that it’ll be another comment on your and Izou’s friendship.

“The little touches. The looks. The looonging,” Ace says, drawing it out like it’s something scandalous.

“We’re friends,” Izou says smoothly, taking a sip of his drink.

“Yeah,” Thatch adds, grinning. “And I’m a virgin.”

You nearly choke on your drink. Even Izou coughs beside you and then smiles into his cup like he’s trying not to laugh.

“I don’t know what you’re all imagining,” you say after a beat. “We just read together.”

Marco hums. “It’s the just that’s doing a lot of work in that sentence.”

Ace leans back, tilting his head dramatically. “Honestly, if they don’t kiss by the end of the week, I’m filing an official complaint.”

“Do it,” Thatch says. “Make it formal.”

Izou raises a hand. “Do I get to review this complaint?”

“Denied in advance,” Marco mutters, then takes another sip.

You look over at Izou. He looks back, that same unreadable softness in his expression again—calm on the surface, like always, but there’s something else flickering behind his eyes. Something you can’t quite name.

Your legs are touching. Your hands brush again when you both reach for the same snack. Neither of you moves away and that’s okay. Friends are supposed to be comfortable around each other.

So, you try not to think about it too much, enjoying the evening drinking and laughing with your brothers instead.

And eventually, the night deepens as more and more stars are beginning to peek through and the buzz of Thatch’s drinks settles in your bones. You’re on your second cup of whatever Thatch poured, your skin already flush and your head pleasantly light.

Izou notices before you can say anything. He always does.

He shifts just slightly, his shoulder brushing yours more firmly, the motion steadying. His fingers graze your wrist, just once, and then again more deliberately.

“You alright?” he murmurs, low enough that the others won’t catch it.

You smile, just for him. “M’fine.”

He watches you a second longer, then pushes the small bowl of roasted chestnuts toward you. “Eat a little.”

“I already did.”

“You picked out the peanuts and left the rest.”

You laugh and nudge him with your knee. “And you know this how?”

He lifts a brow. “Because I know you.”

You go quiet for a second, not because you don’t have something to say, but because of how easy that sounded. Like a truth. Like something he didn’t mean to say out loud.

So, you take one of the chestnuts just to appease him, unaware of the fact that Ace’s watching you both from across the fire with his chin in his palm, grin pulling wide. “You know, I’m starting to get why you fell in love with Izou.”

“It’s the little things,” Thatch adds, grinning just as wide as Ace.

Marco sips his drink, and without looking up says, “I think they’re actually worse than any couple I’ve ever seen.”

“We’re not—” you start, but Izou calmly cuts in at the same time:

“—together,” he finishes, smooth as ever. But his eyes flick toward you with a softness that makes your stomach flip.

You open your mouth, maybe to echo it, maybe to say something else, but then Izou gently tugs your cup away from you.

“You’ve had enough,” he says, not unkindly, already pouring you a bit of water from a clay jug.

You wrinkle your nose. “I’m fine.”

“I know,” he says quietly. “But I’m still taking care of you.”

Ace makes an exaggerated gagging noise. “Can you not be sweet for one damn second?”

“Let them,” Marco mutters, hiding his smile behind the rim of his cup. “I think they’ll eventually admit it to each other.”

You snort, cheeks warm. Whether from the alcohol or Izou or both, you’re not sure anymore. Izou hands you the water without another word, the pads of his fingers brushing yours like always. Thoughtful, careful. Second nature.

And just like that, the night grows louder as the drinks keep flowing. Laughter comes easier, shoulders loosen, and Thatch breaks out into awful attempts at a sea shanty that has Ace howling with laughter and Marco visibly debating whether to walk overboard into the sea.

But you just lean against Izou’s side now without really thinking about it. He hasn’t moved away, hasn’t commented on it, just adjusted slightly to make it more comfortable, like he always does.

You don’t even notice that Ace’s attention has moved back toward you two until he speaks again, louder this time. “Seriously, how long are you two going to pretend?”

You blink. “Pretend what?”

“That you’re not in love.”

You laugh, too fast, too loud. “We’re not.”

“Right,” Thatch chimes in, pointing between you and Izou. “So if we dared you to kiss right now, it wouldn’t mean anything, huh?”

You sit up straighter. “It’d mean nothing.”

Izou doesn’t flinch. He just exhales a quiet breath, smooth as silk. “We kiss if it’ll shut you all up.”

Suddenly, everybody around you quiets. Then Marco snorts. “Don’t do it because we told you to yoi.”

“No. Actually, let’s do it,” you nod agreeing to the whole plan. “This might finally end the conversation.”

So, next Izou turns toward you slightly. His expression is unreadable again—gentle, careful. His hand rises, not to pull you close, but to steady your chin with a featherlight touch.

“They’re like children sometimes,” he murmurs, so low only you hear it.

“Absolutely,” you nod, chuckling, happy that he somehow managed to ease the tension with just one comment.

So, suddenly feeling more at ease, you lean in. Easy. Like breathing. And Izou meets you halfway, calm and certain.

The kiss is soft... softer than you expected. His lips press to yours, sharing its warmth in a slow and deliberate manner, not rushing anything or demanding more than you’re already giving.

It’s rather tender.

His lips move gently against yours like he’s memorizing the feel of your mouth in that one brief touch. And then it ends, just as simply as it began.

You both pull back slowly. Barely. Your noses are still close, breath mingling and neither of you speaks for a long time.

Until Ace breaks the silence with a whistle. “Holy shit!”

“That was not a ‘we’re just friends’ kiss,” Thatch points out, delighted.

You blink, still feeling dazed. “It was just to prove a point.”

Izou, voice barely audible and eyes not moving from yours, adds. “We told you that before we kissed…”

Then, finally, you sit back, suddenly very aware of the way your body is still leaning into his. You try to steady your hands and your thoughts. Everything inside you feels like it’s glowing.

Marco’s watching with narrowed eyes like he sees something neither of you are ready to admit.

“You two are exhausting yoi,” he says, tipping his drink toward you.

And finally, no one says anything else. They let it go – for now, even though Izou leans in slightly again, just enough that his shoulder touches yours again, grounding and familiar.

You don’t move away. You never do, so why should you now?

You’re still just friends.

And eventually, one by one, the crew retires to their beds until you and Izou are the only ones left. He hasn’t moved much since the kiss. And neither have you because the warmth between you feels comfortable still.

But somehow heavy in a way it wasn’t before.

Izou breaks the silence first, voice low. “They’ll be talking about that for weeks.”

You let out a soft huff. “They never needed a reason before.”

He hums, almost a laugh. “True.”

Another pause. But you don’t fill it with anything this time. Neither does he.

You glance at him. He’s watching the fire, jaw relaxed, eyes soft. But there’s tension in his hands, subtle, but you know him well enough to see it. He’s thinking too much. So are you.

You shift, just a little, brushing your shoulder against his again. Not enough to make a statement. Just enough to remind him you’re still there.

His voice is quieter this time when he says, “You didn’t have to go through with it.”

“I know.”

“You could’ve said no.”

“I know,” you say again, softer now.

Izou finally looks at you. There’s something hesitant in his expression like he’s waiting for you to take it back. Waiting for you to laugh it off. Waiting for you to tell him it meant nothing.

“It was just to prove a point,” you say.

His mouth lifts at one corner. “Right.”

“Just to shut them up.”

“Of course.”

Another long stretch of quiet passes. You should move. Stand up. Head below deck. But you don’t want to and neither does he. So, you two continue to sit by the fire, the taste of the kiss still lingering on your lips.

______________

The next morning you find yourself in the galley, claiming that the sunlight’s far too bright as you walk in, seeing that breakfast’s already laid out on the wooden tables. In front of everybody are bowls of rice, grilled fish, and something Thatch insists is soup but smells suspiciously like hangover remedy.

You shuffle past a few tables, hair a mess, eyelids heavy. Izou’s already there, seated at the end of your table. His cup of tea steams quietly in front of him. He doesn’t look tired. Of course, he doesn’t.

He glances up as you enter and offers you a small smile. Warm. Familiar. Safe.

Your stomach does something it has no business doing, so you push it down as you slide into the spot beside him like always.

And that’s when Thatch pounces. “Well, well, well. Look who decided to wake up late after her scandalous little kiss.”

You groan and drop your head to the table.

Marco, across from you, doesn’t even look up from his breakfast. “I was wondering how long it would take yoi.”

Ace grins around a mouthful of rice. “I give it three days before one of you breaks and confesses.”

You lift your head just enough to glare. “There’s nothing to confess.”

“That’s what makes it sadder,” Thatch says, mock-wounded. “You're already acting like a couple but too emotionally constipated to admit it.”

Izou calmly sips his tea. “She and I are friends.”

“Right,” Marco says, flicking his eyes between the two of you. “Friends who kiss.”

“Once,” you mutter. “To make you all shut up.”

“Didn’t work,” Ace points out cheerfully.

You grab a rice ball from the center plate and chuck it at him. He catches it with his mouth and nearly chokes from laughing.

Thatch leans forward on his elbows, his voice dropping like he’s about to start narrating a romance novel. “They were just two friends… sipping tea… sitting shoulder to shoulder in the quiet glow of firelight…”

“Thatch.”

He ignores the warning in Izou’s tone.

“…their lips met in a passionate attempt to end all speculation…”

“Thatch.” That one’s from you.

He’s grinning like a cat at you. “… but little did they know, that single kiss would awaken something forbidden. Something deep. Something—”

You whip a spoon at him. It clatters off his shoulder. “Finish that sentence and I’ll dump soup over your head.”

“Feisty,” Ace chuckles, while Marco’s chuckling into his coffee.

And just as the teasing has finally started to die down and you think you might finish the rest of your breakfast in peace (mostly because you’ve stopped reacting and Izou’s gone quiet in that way that makes people nervous), does Ace speak up again.

His voice is perfectly innocent. Too innocent. And his expression doesn’t match, because there’s a glint in his eyes, a smug little twist to his mouth that sets off alarm bells before he even finishes his thought.

“Well, I was thinking…” he begins, drawing the words out slowly like he’s savoring them. “If kissing friends is just something we do now…”

You pause, fork halfway to your mouth. “Don’t.”

“… and Izou and I have known each other longer than you two have…”

Izou doesn’t look up from his plate. “I’m warning you.”

“… then shouldn’t I get a turn too?”

The table goes silent for a second. Then Thatch immediately chokes on a mouthful of food, coughing into his fist, while Marco leans back with a faintly amused smirk like he’s settling in for the show.

“Don’t encourage him,” you mutter, though you can already feel a laugh building in your throat.

Ace, of course, only grins wider and starts sliding around the table, slow and exaggerated, like a cartoon villain with both hands raised in mock innocence. “C’mon, Izou. Just a little kiss between bros. For science.”

Izou doesn’t even flinch. He just sets his utensils down. “I will shoot you.”

There’s a beat.

Ace falters mid-step. “Wouldn’t be the first time a gun was involved in one of my dates,” he quips, though he’s definitely reconsidering his choices.

“You’re not helping yourself,” Izou says flatly, pushing his chair back with sudden purpose.

“Okay, okay, just a peck—!” Ace doesn’t get the chance to finish.

With a smooth, practiced motion, Izou draws his flintlock from his belt and levels it right at Ace’s head. The click of the hammer being pulled back is sharp and deadly in the morning air.

“Fuck!” Ace yelps and quickly dives behind Marco like a coward, knocking into the bench in the process.

Thatch loses it completely, doubling over, face red, laughing so hard he’s crying. “Oh my god! He was deadass serious!”

Even you can’t hold it in anymore. A laugh bubbles up and escapes, and you have to cover your mouth with one hand to stop yourself from completely losing composure.

Marco doesn’t even flinch as Ace huddles behind him. “You brought that one on yourself,” he says simply, sipping his coffee like this is all a routine part of breakfast.

From beneath the table, Ace’s voice pipes up again, wounded but still amused. “Hey! At least now we know Izou wouldn’t kiss any of his friends!”

Izou, ever the picture of calm, lowers his gun and sets it neatly back on the table. His face is unreadable, but the faintest pink stains the tips of his ears.

“Try it again,” he says, tone icy, “and I will make it count next time.”

Naturally, the laughter around the table doesn’t die down right away. Thatch is still wiping tears from his eyes, and Ace stays crouched behind Marco like a man in hiding, though even he’s grinning now. Moreover, someone makes a joke about how easily Izou’s gun comes out these days, and someone else starts taking bets on who’ll be the next target.

But then the noise finally begins to fade, the teasing shifting to other things.

And when you glance over at Izou, he’s sitting next to you again, cradling a fresh cup of tea that someone – probably Marco – slid in front of him while the commotion was still going. However, he hasn’t taken a sip yet.

You catch the tight line of his shoulders. The set of his mouth. The way he stares into the steam curling from his cup like it’s something he has to brace himself for.

Then you reach out quietly, slipping your hand over Izou’s, your fingers brushing against the side of his palm. He startles, just slightly, but doesn’t pull away. So, you lean in, your voice low. “I’ve got watch duty in ten. If you’re done threatening your brothers, you can come with me.”

His eyes finally meet yours.

You give his hand a gentle tug and add, “I’d like the company.”

Izou doesn’t answer, but he rises immediately, silent, composed, tea cup abandoned.

The moment you step away from the table, however…

“Oh no!” Thatch wails, dramatically clutching his chest. “They’re walking away together. What does it mean?”

“Ten-to-one they make out behind the cannon stacks,” Ace calls, peeking out from Marco’s side like a raccoon.

Marco barely glances up. “Put me down for five. They’ll just stare at the ocean and suffer in silence.”

You keep walking, tugging Izou along by the hand, pretending not to hear the rising laughter behind you.

But you do hear Izou mutter under his breath, “Next time I’m not hesitating. I’ll shoot them all.”

You glance sideways as you walk, your fingers still laced lightly with his. His grip isn’t tight, but it’s steady. Measured. Like everything with Izou. But there’s tension running up his arm, shoulders drawn a little too straight, jaw set just a little too firmly.

“They really do act like children,” you say, voice calm and dry. “Honestly, it’s impressive they haven’t all been court-martialed for emotional damage.”

That earns a faint huff beside you, almost a laugh. Almost.

You bump your shoulder gently into his. “You know they only tease because they’re jealous, right?”

“Jealous?” he echoes, glancing at you with a raised brow.

You nod, trying to keep a straight face. “Absolutely. You have it all: The looks, the aim, and the best friend on the ship, which is me, of course.”

Izou snorts under his breath, a sound you rarely get to hear, and the corner of his mouth twitches like he’s trying not to smile.

“You forgot humility,” he murmurs.

“Oh, I left that out on purpose. We can’t both be perfect.”

“Right,” he says, and now the smile breaks through, faint but real. “That would be unfair to the others.”

You grin. “Exactly. We’re doing them a favor by keeping our brilliance to just the two of us.”

Finally, his steps feel lighter and his shoulders have eased out of their rigid set. Moreover, the air between you softens again, returning to the familiar, comfortable rhythm that always seems to settle in when you’re alone together.

And maybe it’s your imagination—but his thumb brushes once, slow and deliberate, across your knuckles. Just once. Like a thank-you he doesn’t say out loud.

You don’t mention it. Just squeeze his hand in return and keep walking.

On deck, you settle into your usual spot by the railing, where the sea stretches endlessly in every direction. Izou stands beside you, arms folded neatly across his chest, one hip leaning against the balustrade.

You glance up at him. “Thanks for coming.”

His gaze stays on the horizon for a beat longer before he replies, voice quiet. “Didn’t need much convincing.”

That makes you smile, though you try to hide it by looking back out at the sea. The wind shifts, brushing a loose strand of hair across your cheek, and before you can move, Izou’s hand lifts gently, and tucks it behind your ear.

You turn to him slowly, your breath catching just a little.

He doesn’t pull his hand away immediately. His fingers linger at your temple, warm and steady, like he’s memorizing the shape of you.

“I really thought the kiss might shut them up, you know,” you eventually sigh, feeling the sudden need to fill the silence.

“Looks like it did more damage,” Izou adds, voice dry but softer now.

“They act like it meant something even though we tell them it didn’t,” you groan, putting your face in your hands. “We could kiss thousands of times and they wouldn’t stop teasing.”

There’s a pause, just long enough to notice it.

Then Izou says, low and careful, “Maybe we could try?”

You freeze. Your hands lower slowly from your face, and when you look at him, he’s watching the sea again, but there’s a tension in his jaw, in the line of his shoulders, like he’s bracing for something. Like he hadn’t meant to say that out loud. Or maybe he did and just wasn’t sure what you’d do with it.

“Try,” you echo, quietly. “You mean…”

“To kiss again,” he says, still not facing you. “No audience. No reason. Just to see.”

Just to see.

The wind picks up again, cool and salt-sweet, tugging at your sleeves, your hair, the fragile quiet stretched between you. And you realize you could make a joke. Shrug it off. Pretend the butterflies in your stomach are from the sea breeze and not from him.

But you don’t want to… Not this time.

So, you shift, turning to face him fully and nudge his arm with your own. “Okay.”

Izou finally looks at you. There’s surprise there, but it softens quickly—gives way to something steadier. Like relief. Like hope.

You don’t speak again. You just lean in, slow and certain, similar to how you did it last night. But like Izou already pointed out, there’s no audience. No pressure. No need to pretend anymore.

Izou meets you halfway, just as calm, just as deliberate. The kiss begins soft, barely there. A quiet question. A breath shared between mouths. His lips are warm against yours, steady and patient like he’s afraid to rush something that might shatter if handled too roughly.

But when you don’t pull away after some while… when you lean into it instead, fingers brushing lightly against the edge of his coat something shifts.

You feel it in the way his hand rises, finds your jaw, his thumb resting at the corner of your mouth. On the way, he draws in a slow breath through his nose like he’s trying to stay grounded like he didn’t expect this to happen, and now he’s afraid it might end too soon.

And so the kiss deepens. Bit by bit, like a tide coming in.

Your lips move together with growing confidence, not rushed, but more certain. There’s no hesitation in the way he tilts his head slightly, pulling you in just a little closer like he’s trying to memorize the shape of your mouth, the sound of your breath, the warmth of your body against his.

Like he’s pouring every unsaid feeling into this one moment, quiet longing, quiet wanting, all the things he hasn't dared to name.

And when the kiss finally breaks, it does so slowly… reluctantly. A few short parting touches. A final brush like he doesn’t quite want to let go. So, you stay close, foreheads nearly touching, hearts knocking a little too fast beneath the surface.

“Izou…” you whisper, not really sure what you mean to say.

He opens his eyes, gaze sweeping over your face like he’s trying to commit every inch of it to memory. His thumb strokes just once along your cheekbone, the faintest, reverent touch.

“You’re okay?” He whispers.

“Yeah,” you admit, unable to not smile softly at him. “I wouldn’t mind kissing you again.”

His breath catches, just faintly, but you feel it. Moreover, for a moment, Izou doesn’t speak. He just watches you, something softer and unguarded growing behind his eyes. And then, slowly, his lips curl into the barest smile.

“Good,” he murmurs. “Because I was thinking the same thing.”

His hand slides from your cheek to cradle the back of your neck, fingers slipping into your hair like he’s done it a hundred times in dreams he’d never admit to having. And when he kisses you again, it’s deeper from the start. No lingering uncertainty.

Just want.

Just the kind of aching sweetness that makes the world fall away.

You tilt into him, your hands finding his chest, his shoulder—anything to keep you close. His other arm slips around your waist, steadying you, grounding you, but not pulling you too close. He still handles you like something precious.

“Well, well, well,” Marco drawls, looking far too satisfied. “Looked like a pretty meaningful watch shift from up here.”

You jolt, just barely, and Izou sighs deep and from the soul, his forehead dropping to rest against yours for one last second before he straightens.

Up on the upper deck, Marco leans lazily over the railing, arms folded, a slow grin spreading across his face like he’s been waiting all morning for this exact moment.

“I swear to god,” Izou mutters under his breath.

But it’s too late. Because now Thatch pops up behind Marco, practically vibrating with excitement. “Did they kiss again?! Did I miss it?! Marco, you said you’d signal me!”

“I did signal you,” Marco replies blandly. “You just didn’t react yoi.”

“I thought the hand wave meant someone fell overboard!” Thatch wails. “You need a better system!”

“You two are disasters,” you hiss, face burning hot as you try to duck behind Izou’s shoulder… not that it helps.

“Oh, c’mon,” Thatch grins, leaning over the rail so far it looks unsafe. “We knew there was tension. We just didn’t know it was gonna burst into flames!”

Then comes Ace, swinging in from a rope like he’s auditioning for a different genre entirely. “Congrats! I give it three days before they start sneaking into each other’s rooms!”

“I’m literally going to kill all three of you,” Izou growls, voice low and dark.

“Oh no, he’s doing the voice,” Ace stage-whispers, already crab-walking backward toward the nearest rope. “He’s gonna get the gun. He’s gonna get the gun!”

“Izou…” you warn, but he exhales like a man preparing for battle.

Then he lets go of your hand slowly, carefully, almost reverently, and pulls his flintlock from his belt in one smooth motion, like he’s rehearsed it.

Instantly, Ace bolts up the rigging with alarming speed, practically leaping two steps at a time. Even Thatch lets out a shriek and dives behind Marco similar to how Ace did it today morning.

“Thatch, you said he wouldn't actually pull it!” Ace yells from halfway up the mast.

“I thought he’d hesitate!” Thatch howls from the floor. “He usually hesitates!”

“He didn’t hesitate this morning!”

You’re laughing now, absolutely breathless, wheezing as you grab Izou’s arm with both hands. “Don’t shoot them!”

“I’m just scaring them,” Izou replies calmly, flintlock raised with unnerving precision.

You eye the gun and the glitter of the hammer cocked back. “You cocked it.”

He sighs like you’re asking the impossible. “Fine. Scaring them a lot.”

[24hrssofnea]

𝐓𝐄𝐄𝐍𝐀𝐆𝐄 𝐆𝐈𝐑𝐋

➜ pairing: juju watkins x fem!reader

➜ warnings: SOFT LAUNCH ,, THEN HARD LAUNCH

➜ post it note: the moment we’ve all been wating for…or some of us are just really impatient.

intro → playlist → chapter 1 → chapter 2 → chapter 3

→ chapter 4 → chapter 5

Chapter Five — juju’s pov 🦅 not the one to play with when it comes to wylie seagrist marshall — JUDEA SKIES WATKINS

It started with a photo. Just one.

Nothing crazy. Just Wylie on the sideline, blue nails, camera up, head tilted, sun catching the edge of her cheekbone like God Himself was tryna tell the internet: yeah, she’s the one.

I posted it on my story with a 🔵💙 emoji. No tag. No caption. Just vibes.

Soft launch 101.

Kayleigh saw it first. She slid into my DMs with one eye emoji and a girl… Followed by ten more.

Rayah texted me: delete that shit before Maliyah sees and starts connecting dots.

Too late.

Wylie didn’t say anything though. She never does. She just replied to the story with a “👀” and a single question mark. Which… fair. But I left her on read.

Because listen— I had to pace this. I couldn’t go full “you’re the love of my life and I’ve written your initials on every Gatorade cup since freshman year” in one night. We had to build.

So next came the picture of our shoes. Her beat-up blue Dunks. My custom Kobes. Our feet side by side, legs barely touching, captioned: “who wears blue better?”

Soft. Just soft enough. Let the people wonder.

Then came the TikTok. Just a day in the life. Me walking into Galen. Quick cuts. Layups. Practice. And then— A slow pan of her in the editing room, hoodie on, headphones in, biting her lip while she worked. I didn’t even tag her. Didn’t have to.

The comments ate it up.

“not juju soft launching a photographer 😭” “she don’t even hoop and she got juju spinning smh” “caption her or we rioting.”

And I was smiling. Like, smiling smiling.

'Cause they were right. I was spinning. And I didn’t care.

I told Kayleigh: “One more post and I’m hard launching.” She said, “Girl do it. You already lost your mind.”

So I did.

Hard launch.

Game day. We won. Cameras flashing. Wylie waiting for me at half court, blue nails wrapped around her camera like always.

I walked up. Pulled her in. And kissed her on the cheek.

Not subtle. Not secret. Not soft.

Rayah screamed. Kayleigh fell out. Twitter collapsed in real time.

But I didn’t post that. Nope. I posted the picture she took of me mid-game—me smiling after a steal, looking straight at her camera.

And in the caption: “my favorite lens is you.” 📸💙

I tagged her.

@lookthruwylieslens

No mystery now. No secrets. No sneaking.

Just me and her. Court and camera. Point guard and poet.

Yeah, the launch was soft at first. But this? This was flight.

[glasskey]

What Season 6 did to Nick AND June

Yeah, I’m never going to get over this. Now in the past when I’ve not been entirely happy with series finales I’ve been somewhat soothed by time to ponder and follow up press from Show runners and cast that had something constructive and generous to offer. Here, we received the opposite and as a result I’ve been left to stew in the delicious juices of my hatred and resentment.

After all of the push back, it’s pretty evident that Blaine was unjustly dealt with in season 6, particularly in comparison to the rest of the Gilead Four. Not only that, but there’s a resounding consensus that Nick and June’s relationship was callously spat on and set on fire with an almost gleeful hatred. Last but not least, June now seems to look unsympathetic and opportunistic….and THAT is not her fucking fault. Please, let me elaborate.

The writers had several options to chose from to cast as the villain but they found Blaine the most convenient to go with for a multitude of reasons. They also wanted to make a political statement, so there you go. They weren’t really concerned with all the rest of the “sense of justice”, “out of character” element because they could always fall back on deniability and off screen character history. Unfortunately the audience WAS concerned with these things and have considered the show runners dismissal of their opinion as let’s say, quite rude. They’ve unfortunately chosen to paint Serena in a positive light and, cast the core message of the show about motherhood instead of female autonomy, which undermines basically all of it’s feminist values. Essentially it simply re enforced Fred Waterford’s philosophy about women’s greatest purpose being as a walking womb. Yet they somehow managed to undermine their OWN themes of mother hood by having June running around Gilead constantly bleating about Hannah, while treating Holly like an inconvenient after thought.

They missed their chance to utilise that love triangle as a demonstration of a woman having the power to choose in her personal relationships, by determining Nicks actions be the deciding factor. Honestly, I’ve seen more autonomy demonstrated in the infamous Joey / Pacey / Dawson love triangle in Dawson’s Creek. I mean FFS….DAWSON’S CREEK! Because American writers are so stifled by traditionalist theological values, the idea of a woman actually leaving her husband because she dared to fall in love with someone else, remained absolutely inconceivable. The writers themselves commented “I don’t think the audience would like it if she just abandoned her husband”, yes that’s right ”abandoned”, like leaving him was tantamount to orphaning a helpless child. Like men are utterly incapable of looking after themselves, and women should feel guilty over wanting to end their marriage. It’s made no less offensive by the fact that Luke walked out on his wife and it was written off as “people change”. Once again, OK for a man, but not for a woman. Got it. I felt SO failed as a woman, by the moralistic, traditionalist messaging that occurred, I find it difficult to articulate. In order for the writers to disassemble the idea of Nick and June as the manifestation of an autonomous choice of collective rebellion, and jam these traditionalist ideals back into place, they had to flip both Nick and Luke’s character. They had to violate a text, destroy narrative symbolism and change the very core nature of characters. I’m wholly unimpressed that these writers idea of true love is that some man “waited for her”, like she OWES him something. It’s utterly archaic. Seems almost stalkerish considering the fact that the protagonist actually asked him not to, and yet here we are being told that it’s some sort of demonstration of undying love. Must be the same person who thinks that June and Serena’s relationship is a “love story”.

I personally RESENT being told by both these writers, and by default the fans that latched onto this ridiculous bullshit, that I have “romanticized” a “Nazi”, when the writers themselves built the character to play the dark romantic hero for 5 seasons, and then suddenly changed their minds. It’s insulting and worse still, it makes fans a target. No matter how many times these writers try to whack Blaine with this inflammatory label, historical fact dictates that it still doesn’t make it fucking so. They previously ran promos for him being a part of Mayday, made continual distinctions between Blaine and the rest of Gilead’s foul regime and then suddenly decided to run around screeching that he was an unholy, irredeemable war criminal. They can fuck right off with that 180 self righteous, holier than thou, bullshit.

Everyone was all on board for 4 09 and 4 10. By the way, don’t think that I don’t remember those very same little Nick haters that posted comments relenting past hatreds during season 4, who are now proudly crowing about how “they always knew he was a war criminal and a fascist”, because I see you. Those writers aren’t fooling anyone; if it looks like a take back, and it smells like a take back….then it fucking is. There’s a REASON that the majority of the audience FEELS betrayed and no whining or mealy mouthed justifications by the writers, to their little press besties is going to fix it and magically make it go away. I also refuse to sit back and have their finger wagged at me for wanting the candy they dangled in front of me for 5 seasons, or at the very least adherence to the original source material. They can fuck right off with that shit too. These writers are the ones that violated a text and if they’re getting a mouthful about it, they should just fucking own it instead of acting like self righteous little brats.

Daisy’s / Holly’s story line has essentially been removed from The Testaments TV series and the timeline shortened. It honestly feels like the audience is constantly having to point out to the writers, that they are not fucking idiots, that they don’t have amnesia, that they read the books and that they KNOW when writers are violating a text. This whole branch of the family feels like it’s been treated as if it was simply so inconvenient to these writers that it needed to be erased. As season 6 concluded, Holly was hand balled to her names sake, while June skipped off to rescue the family favourite.

The way that both Blaine and his relationship with Osborn were disposed of in The Handmaids Tale felt nothing short of personal. The writers weren’t satisfied with splitting the pair apart permanently, they wanted to do it brutally, they wanted to devalue their previous connection, they wanted to strip Blaine of his parentage and last but not least, have the love of his life kill him. Even his final words made it sound as though he’d had a gazillion chances to be with her and his daughter, and had greedily chosen power instead. It was like watching the writers beat Blaine to death and then gleefully kick his corpse.

It wasn’t just Blaine that Season 6’s schizophrenic manoeuvrings touched, it was many others including June. I’ve been hearing a lot of rumblings about June lately, and coincidently they started this season. They’ve not been flattering, frankly some of them have been a bit disturbing. I’d argue that if Blaine’s character wasn’t consistent this season, then neither was hers, particularly when it comes to the context of their relationship. June knows what it’s like to survive in Gilead, previous seasons have depicted her doing awful shit to either stay alive or for her cause. I don’t believe this character would suddenly develop some sense of self righteousness that would make her deaf to any of Blaine’s reasoning; including the fact that he told his demented father in law the girls at Jezebels had nothing to do with it, and that he had no idea he would kill them. Let’s just consider what happened with Eden and what went down at the Jezebels in season 4. June KNOWS what the deal is in Gilead. Audience’s should have no doubt that the writers changed the tone of their interactions, the nature of their relationship and as such they changed the character of both Nick AND June within it’s context. While it was not their aim to make her look unsympathetic, because of their rampant tampering in their relationship, it was an inevitable result. I’m actually surprised at audience members who DID readily gobble this up as sounding legit for their characters. Some of these people were actual critics who should have recognized a snack bucket of deep fried garbage when they saw it, but instead they chowed down on it, and then swore up and down they’d just eaten a gourmet 3 courser.

They’d attempted to paint Blaine as a villain but because of the sum of his past actions, most didn’t buy it and it simply made him look abandoned and June opportunistic. The fact is you can’t say that Blaine is not a liar and still say that June is heartless. If you want to say the story line is false for one, then by default it’s false for both. Changing Nicks character changes the genuine nature of Nick and June’s interactions and therefore changes her personality entirely in the context of their relationship. Essentially, if Nicks character construct is false, then in the context of their relationship, so is hers.….you don’t get to have just half of the pie. These writers wanted half and it was waaaaay too late, he was intrinsically tied to her as they’d painted them as soul mates from the very beginning. They’d spent seasons and seasons building their bond, demonstrating the constant tether that held them together despite the regime. Then they just simply wanted to get away with cutting it off brutally. These writers created an aura of timelessness between them, so despite their best attempts to sever them later, they remained tied together and the inevitable consequence was that when they attempted to drag him down, she went with him.

This eternal connection is something the season 6 writers never understood, and it’s why they thought they could simply decimate Blaine’s character, dispose of him and walk away with their protagonist intact. I want to be crystal clear to those who think that June is now some horrible ungrateful wench….these writers did these two dirty. Not just Blaine, but June too. These writers back peddled on their relationship and did just about everything to devalue it; they didn’t anticipate that it would make her look opportunistic and heartless, but it was bound to happen once they tried to make their connection look superficial. The end result was that these writers made BOTH these characters look morally bankrupt, they made their relationship look valueless, they destroyed their mutual bond as parents and they ruined an epic love story. On top of it all, they not only mocked their audience for caring for these characters and their bond, but appeared to despise them for it. I can honestly say I’ve never seen anything like it. These writers lured viewers into a cruel trap, wounded them and then got pissed off when the audience actually told them they’d been a bunch of arseholes for doing it. I don’t know about anyone else but I don’t really have any qualms about telling them that I fucking hate them for it. It was cruel, surprisingly vindictive and I for one won’t forget it.

Minghella commented that you definitely couldn’t accuse the writers of pandering. I’ve no doubt this statement is actually a politely pointed jab at the writers brutality. It’s atypical coming from a Brit, a razor sharp insult disguised as a cleverly worded complement, that you only get wise to about 3 days after the fact.

The rating difference on this season, between critics and audiences is suspiciously large. They’ve submitted to the Emmy’s, but you just KNOW that Severance and Adolescence are going to take virtually everything so good luck with that. Awards aside, it won’t make one iota of a difference in terms of viewership. The truth is no one really gives a fuck. This is GOT all over again. Current audiences will tell ALL their friends that they loved the show but the last season was shit and it totally ruined everything before it. Then people won’t watch any of it because well, who wants to waste their time watching a show that effectively self destructs in the last season? Yep, fucking no one. Who wants to watch a spin off of that? See previous answer.

[mountainsandmayhem]

F*ckin’ Forty - Part 2

40 year old reader x young Frankie

18+ || Minors Do Not Interact

Summary: Men your age don’t do the way a twenty five year old future helicopter pilot can.

A/N: once again, all p*orn, no plot. This is written first person and there’s a few minor description of reader. Listen, I don’t know when I turned into a cougar BUT HERE WE FUCKIN’ ARE!!! This is in no way proofread or beta read; much like 40 yr old reader, we don’t care.

T/W: subby Frankie, pet names (baby, sweet boy, etc), I don’t speak Spanish but googled told me Mi Reina means My Queen (just ignore it if that’s not right, there’s bigger problems right now!), teasing, dirty talk, masturbating, Frankie being whiny (but in a good way)

Word Count: 2.5k

I love my job, and that’s not something a lot of people can say. But, as an owner of a small romance bookstore, I am not only living my dream but countless others as well. However, this week, when all I can think about is the weekend and Frankie’s never-ending hard cock? Yeah, I hate my job.

After work on Thursday, I went to buy some sexy lingerie. The last time I put something like this on was for my ex-husband about five years ago. He took one look at me and went, “I think we are a little too old for pyjamas like that”.

Too old? We were fucking thirty-five! And pyjamas? I went back into our bathroom to change and did the worst possible thing I could have - I looked in the mirror. My eyes instantly went to the imperfections of my body and I promptly went on a spiral. Stretch marks from being pregnant three times. Breasts that didn’t sit as high as they used to. Thighs that touch. Bits of cellulite dimpled my ass and hips.

But when I put on this delicate baby blue lace bra, panty, and garter set, I felt powerful and sexy. None of the things, including the few extra pounds I gained in the last five years of my marriage, jumped out at me this time. I don’t know if it was just the way the fabric hugged me just right, or the small “BEG” that was embroidered along the front of the thong (which, yes, is crotchless) but I couldn’t wait for Frankie’s reaction.

While having sushi last Sunday, I told Frankie that I’d prefer to keep all communication to just the weekends since I'm not looking for a relationship or to make this more complicated than just sex and sushi. His response gave me yet another reason to keep fucking younger men, “I’m not looking for anything either, so that is more than okay with me, but if you need me for anything, I’m here.”

Friday had finally arrived. Around noon, I checked my phone and had a text from Frankie.

Frankie: I can’t wait to be buried in that sweet little pussy all fucking weekend

You: now, now, is that any way to talk to a lady? Be nice, or I’ll make you beg for it, sweet boy.

Frankie: I’ll get on my knees and bark like a dog if that’s what you want.

You: that so?

Frankie: woof woof, mi reina

You: see you in a few hours

After an everything shower, I pace in my kitchen nervously while sipping a glass of red wine. I’m in just the baby blue barely there outfit and a short silky black robe that sits mid-thigh when Frankie knocks on my door right at nine o’clock. The soft rapping of his knuckles sends sparks across my skin.

I let him in, his soft brown eyes meeting mine, and the world melts away. No bills, no shitty ex texting me about parents weekend next month, no worrying about the event for local writers coming up at work. Just Francisco “Magic Tongue” Morales.

“Hi, baby,” he says, then brings his lips to mine in a heated kiss. I let him take me, let him close the door and then turn us and press me against the thick white wood that keeps us tucked away from the world.

I kiss him back feverishly as if he’s charging me back up after an entire week without him. I bring my hands to the nape of his neck and scratch gently at his scalp. His grip tightens on my hips. He’s already hard behind his jeans as he grinds into me.

“You look so fucking hot,” he hums between kisses and I remember that I had a plan tonight, so I bring my hands to his chest and push him back just enough so I can see his face.

“Get on your knees and keep your hands to yourself. Then I’ll show you what’s underneath this robe.” I don’t command him or say it harshly. It’s soft and flirty. My words tug a smile at the corner of his cheek, showing off his dimple amongst his patch beard.

“Yes ma’am,” he whispers, his hands giving me one last squeeze before he steps back and lowers himself to his knees.

I run my hands along my thighs, and his eyes track every inch of skin that I expose to him. I lift the sides of my robe, then let it flutter back down around my legs as I reach for the delicate tie around my waist. His breathing speeds up as I play with the fabric.

“What’s the matter, Francisco?”

“N-nothing,” he stammers, watching as my fingers trace the lapels of the silk.

“That so?” I coo, pulling the robe open so he can see part of the light blue bra. I do the same to the other side, showing my cleavage, but not fully letting my breasts out. The fabric is thin enough that you can see my nipples through it, and he hasn’t earned that yet.

His big puppy eyes flick up to my face. He licks his lips before saying, “Please stop teasing me.”

I laugh seductively, shaking my head as my hands pull the tie of the robe. Frankie is nearly panting in anticipation, but I don’t let what’s keeping me covered from him fall open just yet. “I’ve only just started playing with you though.”

“Fuck,” he whimpers when my hands move away from the knot. I use one hand to push his curly hair back. Just as he leans into my touch I grip his soft chocolate brown hair and tug back so he’s looking at me. He hisses, but his eyes are practically onyx with desire when they meet mine.

“That what you want? Me to play with you? Make you work for it?” He looks so goddamn hot on his knees that it takes everything inside of me not to abandon my plan and just let him fuck me senseless.

“Yes, mi reina. Whatever you want. Just please let me see you. Please.”

“You sound so good when you whimper like that,” I bend down and kiss him hard, nipping at his bottom lip as I pull away. “Such a good listener, keeping your hands in your lap like the good boy I know you are.”

He looks wrecked already, whimpering when I stand back up and release his hair. My fingers work the loose knot that’s holding my robe closed. I stop when he looks down.

“No, no, baby. Eyes on mine.” He groans in frustration and then looks back at me. As I continue, I open the robe the rest of the way. “That’s my boy. I’m going to let you look, and touch, but only after you do one tiny little thing for me.”

He nods, his breathing quick and shallow. My eyes flick down to my panties then back to him, he doesn’t break eye contact, so I do it again. “Read them, sweet boy.”

He lowers his chin slowly, his eyes branding my skin as he takes me in. He blinks at the three letters embroidered on the panties just above my clit - BEG. I let the robe slip off my arms and fall to the floor.

“Oh fuuuck,” he breathes. And then, on his knees, his face level with my pussy, he does exactly what I want. “Please, my queen. Let me touch you. Let me make you come so many times you forget your name.”

I step my feet apart so he can see that the lacy blue panties that he’s salivating over are open where the gusset would usually be. His face goes soft, lips parting as his hands ball into tight fists on his lap.

“You can do better than that,” I taunt.

“Fuuuuck me. Your pussy is so damn beautiful. Shining for me already. I’ve been craving your taste, missing how soft you are against my tongue. Please. Let me lick your perfect cunt.” His voice is airy and desperate and I can feel myself getting wetter. He looks up at me and continues, “I’ll stay clothed. I’ll stay on my knees. Fuck, I’ll stay right here all weekend with my tongue out if you want. Just please. Please let me taste you.”

“Open.” That heaven-sent tongue of his wets his lips before he opens his mouth. “Tongue out.”

I place the pads of my pointer and middle finger on the flat of his tongue and a whimper bubbles from his throat. “Here’s what you’re gonna do, baby. You’re going to get my fingers nice and wet, then you’re going to take out that pretty little cock so I can watch it while I touch myself. After I come all over my fingers, assuming you’re my good boy, you can clean them off.”

He hums a sound of agreement, nodding his head as I push on his tongue, watching the saliva pool in his cheeks. I lean down, sponging my lips to his right eyebrow, feeling him gravitate towards my caress.

“What are you waiting for, Francisco?” I whisper, my voice full of love and encouragement. He sucks eagerly, bobbing up and down on my fingers, swirling that perfect tongue along them. For a moment, I wonder if he’s ever sucked a cock before, and for some reason, the thought of that turns me on more than I expected it to.

“Fuck, you’re such a good listener,” I coo, and he preens at the praise. “Okay, that’s enough now, Frankie”

His lips release with a pop. “Please, I need to see you spread out for me.”

“Take off your shirt,” he whips his white t-shirt off so fast and I laugh silently. He’s so fucking cute. “Show me your cock. I haven’t stopped thinking about it all week.”

His hands scramble to his belt. Then he fumbles with the buckle and the button fly of his jeans because he’s wholly focused on my nearly exposed cunt. He tugs his jeans and boxers down just enough so that his cock springs free and I feel myself melt into the door behind me.

“Beautiful,” I murmur and he smiles up at me. “Ready?”

He nods, “Yes yes, I want to watch how you make yourself come, mi reina.”

I press my shoulder blades into the door, lifting my left foot and resting the arch on his shoulder, letting my knee fall open before rolling my hips forward. He’s so close that I can feel the heat of his shaky exhales on my skin. I bring my wet fingers towards my center, stopping just before they make contact with my swollen clit.

“Hold onto your cock for me, sweet boy. Right at the base. But don’t stroke yourself.”

“I - I c-can’t,” he stammers.

“Yes, you can, because you’re my good boy. Right?” I say, my voice equally encouraging and taunting.

“I’ll break. I can’t.” He whines.

“Francisco Morales,” I bark, “Wrap your fist around that pretty cock or I won’t let you cum all fucking weekend.”

He looks up at me through his lashes, eyes dark and pleading, then does as I ask. He squeezes his cock and a bead of pre cum leaks from the tip.

“That’s my boy,” I whisper, then drag my fingers along my cunt. I was never this wet for my ex-husband. I start at my entrance, gathering my arousal and spreading it up towards my clit. I gasp as my fingers touch where I’ve been needing them; swirling a little circle around my most sensitive spot before repeating the motion.

“Fuck, your pussy is so incredibly beautiful. All needy and flushed pink,” Frankie murmurs, the heat of his breath making me a jerk. “Get more of your juices for me. Coat your fingers. Make a mess. Make me clean your entire hand.”

“Oh my god, Frankie,” I’m already right on the edge, white blurs the side of my vision as it gets tighter and tighter behind my navel. I slip my fingers inside myself easily, feeling the way the walls of my pussy grip and pull, desperate for more. “Hnnnng, fuuuck.”

“Yes, my queen. Shit, I’m so hard for you right now.”

I pull my fingers from my cunt, looking down as I spread my arousal up my pussy and then focus on my clit. I rub tight, fast circles along it. My legs start to tremble.

“I’m…oh god…I’m gonna-“

“Show me,” he whispers, then blows cool air along my aching cunt and I fall over the edge. My pussy clenches around nothing again and again, but I don’t stop my ministrations. I let the moans fill my apartment, uncaring that anyone walking past my door would be able to hear me. It’s just him and I, the rest of the world doesn’t exist.

“Keep going, baby. I know that must feel so good.” Frankie’s praise feels like the sun, warming my skin and revitalizing me. I keep teasing myself, my body jerking through the aftershocks.

My wrist goes limp, my eyelids falling shut as I catch my breath. After a few quiet moments, I find it in myself to lift my foot off Frankie’s shoulder. He’s still got his hand wrapped around the base of his cock. I stumble slightly, his free hand coming to my hip.

“Easy, baby. Go slow.”

I both hate and love how soft he’s being right now, but then I look back down at his dick. The tip is red and leaking cum; it looks almost painful.

I lift my hand to his lips. “Clean them,” I croak, my voice already hoarse just from one orgasm; I must have been moaning louder than I thought.

Frankie sucks my fingers into his mouth. His eyes rolled back at the taste of me.

“Does that taste good, my beautiful boy?”

He groans in agreement, his breathing changing to be erratic. His hand releases his cock, and I watch as it twitches before he cums on the floor in front of me without even being touched. He releases my fingers, then falls to his hands.

“I’m sorry. Oh god. I’m sorry,” he says through his panting breaths.

I start to laugh, not in a cruel way and definitely not at him, mostly because I don’t know what else to do. Frankie’s big brown eyes look at me.

“I’m sorry,” I say through my laughter. “I’m not laughing at you. I’m just…I’ve never done something like that before. I don’t know what came over me.”

Frankie gestures towards where his cum is pooled onto the tile of your front entrance. “Well, I clearly liked it.”

“Take me to my room,” my voice is a hum and then Frankie shows me once again why fucking a younger is superior when he hoists me over his shoulder as he stands; strong, no lower back or bad shoulders. I squeal, watching as he shuffle steps to my room, his pants pooling around his feet. “Don’t you dare drop me.”

“Never, baby. Never.”

[kelsunnie]

What Isn't Said (Deltarune Kris X Reader)

HI GUYS LONG TIME NO SEE I'M VERY SORRY FOR THE DELAY BUTBUT FINALLY ITS HERE AND DONT WORRY CHAPTER 4 IS IN THE WORKS IM LITERALLY WRITING IT RIGHT NOW AS WE SPEAK FOR NOW ENJOY THIS ONE LOVE U ALL

Chapter 3: A CYBER'S WORLD?

Kris and Susie instinctively pull out their weapons, with Kris’ being a sharp sword and Susie’s, as you’ve seen before, is an axe. You thought that their weapons fit their personalities, but it made you wonder about the grappling hook. You didn’t even know when and how to use it properly, and you’d hate to use it to hurt anyone.

“Wait! Why are we fighting them? Shouldn’t we, like, maybe… help them?” You tried to reason with the two.

“Well, yeah, dingus. We’re gonna do that,” Susie shot back, gripping her axe, “We just have to figure out how first.” 

You swallowed hard, glancing between the sparking creature and your friends. “Okay… okay. Think,” you stared at the scenario around you, trying to piece together something that could help ease both sides. 

And then—

“… Susie, throw me.” Kris’ voice cut through the tension, low and flat. Their eyes didn’t meet you or Susie, but their voice sounded determined and rushed, like they were trying to finish things up quickly, which you don’t really blame them for. 

“WHAT?!”

Susie hesitated for half a second, then let out a low chuckle. “Man, you’re weird. But hey—whatever gets it done.”

“No, wait! What??? Obviously, don’t! They’re gonna get hurt!”

“Okay, suuure, but do you have any ideas? Maybe throwing Kris at the enemy will help,” 

“Well…” 

“… The wire. Throw me near the wires.” 

“No no no wait. Wait a second. Okay,” you gestured for them to wait, hand on your head, “Okay, I get what you’re trying to do now.” You ran a hand through your hair, trying to calm the panic in your chest.

For the briefest second, you thought you saw it — the faintest curl at the corner of Kris’s mouth. A smile. But it was gone too fast to be sure.

“I have an idea.”

You raised the grappling hook, gripping it tighter, “Let me try something. I can maybe hook the wires—pull them loose, cut the power. We won’t have to hurt Kris at all.”

Susie stared at you, then gave you a smirk, shrugging, “Huh. Alright, nerd. Let’s see what you got.”

You took a deep breath, and with all your strength, swung the grappling hook towards the Werewires in a curved manner. 

“Please, don’t hit them…!” you whispered to yourself, anxiety creeping up on your back, scared of your hook hitting the Werewires. The hook sails in the air as it gets smaller in your point of view, until you can see it reach near the Werewires, quickly pulling it slightly to help make the rope wrap around the wires. The grappling hook obeyed, catching hold, but only snaring one of the cords. Once the rope of the hook clung hard enough, you yanked it. The wire trembled, then snapped loose from the Werewires’ body, falling harmlessly to the ground.

“Damn, I only got one,” you cursed through your breath, frustration bubbling in your chest, “Think you guys can handle the other one?”

“On it!” Susie smirked, glancing at Kris for a plan.

Kris stepped up behind her, cool and focused, resting their arms on either side of them as if bracing for takeoff.

“Alright, then, you weirdo,” Susie grabs Kris by the waist, holding their blue-skinned friend from above while waiting for Kris’ signal.

“Go,” Kris steadily commanded Susie.

“Kris!” You cried, panic rising in your voice.

With barely a heartbeat to spare, Kris drew their blade mid air, slashing cleanly at the wire. Sparks flew as the wire snapped loose, unraveling from the Werewire’s body before dropping to the ground with a thud.

“Are you both crazy?!” You barked, breathless from the sight.

Neither of them answered at first—Kris adjusting their stance calmly and Susei brushing off her hands like it was nothing.

“Throwing Kris aside,” Susie came up to you, face looking smug, “We make a pretty good team.”

“… I can’t deny that,” you exhaled, shoulders still tense, “But that was reckless. What if Kris got hurt?” 

Susie shrugged, “Well, they’re not, aren’t they?”

“I’m not.” Kris answered, their voice steady.

“… That’s good to hear,” you muttered, relief finally washing over your body.

“Well, it was nice fighting after so long!” Susie faced Kris, eyes glinting with excitement, “Now let’s go catch up to Queen!”

Suddenly, a couple wires dropped from above, hitting the previous pink creatures, transforming them into the Werewires you recently fought.

“… Or not!” All of you quickly readied yourselves, 

Until the two Werewires dropped on the ground, as if they fell asleep, the power cords no longer attached and fell on the empty space.

“Huh? They calmed down?”

“I just used my PACIFY spell to put them into “Sleep Mode”!” came a cheerful voice from behind.

“Ralsei! You’re here!”

Ralsei? you thought to yourself. You turned to the unfamiliar but kind sounding voice and your eyes widened. The Ralsei they spoke of looked a lot like Asriel, except way shorter and softer, wrapped in green with a pink scarf. Your heart twisted a little. It shouldn’t have surprised you. After all, this world had already broken every rule of logic the moment you woke up alone in a strange outfit with a grappling hook in your hand. But still, seeing that face—the one you used to look up to like a big brother—made your chest ache in a way you weren’t prepared for.

You’re not him, you wanted to say. But you remind me of everything I’ve lost.

You quickly tried to compose yourself, shaking your head in an attempt to get rid of your thoughts about the new arrival’s physical appearance. 

“I felt a dark presence and hurried over!” Ralsei ran towards all of you, a cheerful smile plastered on his face, “I’m so glad you’re all okay.” 

His gaze shifted to you, soft and warm and he spoke your name, “I’ve been hoping to meet you.”

You blinked, caught off guard. “Wait… how do you know my name?”

Ralsei beamed, the adorable goat looking extremely adorable in your eyes, “You’re the star that will mend the bonds!”

“Whaaaaaat?” You blurted out in disbelief, voice raising up to an octave, “This isn’t some game or something, right? I’m probably dreaming all of this, yeah. And what does that even mean?”

“Well, I can help you understand by telling you our history and prophecy!”

“Okay, I think that’ll—”

“BORING!” Susie suddenly groaned, cutting you off, “No more of your fairytale speeches, Fluffyboy. We’ve heard it all before.”

Ralsei flinched, his ears twitching, “But.. But they haven’t…”

“And if we stand around yappin’, Noelle’s gonna end up having her face be turned into a robot or whatever Queen’s got planned,” Susie added, crossing her arms with a loud huff.

You blinked between the two of them, still stunned, “Wait. What prophecy? What ‘star’ thing? What does this have to do with me?”

Ralsei looked apologetically toward you, his hands nervously wringing together, “I… I’ll explain everything soon. I promise.”

“So this isn’t some kind of dream?”

“We’ll talk about it after we save Noelle,” Susie turned around, walking ahead of you, “C’mon, she’s waiting. If we don't do something, she might be..."

You stood there for a second, reeling, glancing at Ralsei, whose worried but hopeful eyes stayed on you before forcing your feet to move. His eyes were gentle, but seemed to be clouded with something unspoken. Whatever he meant earlier still echoed in your head like a riddle half-whispered. The questions in your mind piled higher than ever, but for now, you had no choice but to follow and listen to their conversations. 

One of them will slip eventually. What is this place anyway? You thought with a quiet huff, scanning your surroundings.

“You’re pretty worried for someone you barely talk to,” you eyed your purple classmate, “No offense, but you’re kind of mean to everyone.”

“Well–!” Susie faltered, quickly crossing her arms and looking away, “No! I mean… she’s… nice… I guess. That’s all!”

Then, more defensively, she added, “Aren’t you supposed to be her friend? You’re just messing around in OUR Dark World!”

You blinked, stunned for a second. That stung more than you expected.

“... I didn’t ask to be dragged into this,” you muttered, your voice quieter but sharp, “but I’m not about to stand by and do nothing if Noelle’s in danger.” 

The group fell silent for a beat. You glanced at Kris, hoping for something—anything—but their face was unreadable, eyes distant like they were watching the scene from a step outside themselves. You felt a pang in your heart, thoughts rushing in your head like a dam that broke open—does Kris care about Noelle? Do they care about you? Do they care about your friendship? Their expression unsettled you more than you admitted.

You turned your gaze back to Susie, softening just a little, “I just want her safe, too. That’s all.”

Ralsei quickly stepped in, “Worry not, everyone! All we have to do is seal the Fountain!”

“… Yeah. Yeah! Can’t be mad about another adventure, right?!”

Dark World... Fountain... You echoed in your mind. Right. I’ll remember that. 

“C’mon, Kris!” Susie called out, already cracking her knuckles with anticipation. 

Then suddenly, they all turned at once, striking familiar poses—Ralsei smiling with his arms raised playfully, Susie’s hand on her hip while the other is curled into a loose fist near her chin, a smirk plastered on her face, and Kris… 

You stared for a beat too long. Kris had their arms crossed, their back facing you—silent, unmoving, like they were trying really hard to be mysterious.

“... Are you guys always this theatrical?” You blurted out before you could stop yourself.

No one answered. You blinked, the three of them still holding their respective poses.

“... Seriously?”

Ralsei giggled softly, “It’s tradition!”

You weren’t sure whether to laugh, sigh, or start walking away. Instead, you just muttered, “Okay… Sure. Pose break. Got it,” and reluctantly struck your own awkward stance, hoping no one was watching.

Susie smirked, “Not bad, nerd.”

Kris didn’t comment on your pose, but you thought—just maybe—you caught the tiniest twitch of a smile. Your cheeks burn from embarrassment, swearing to yourself over and over that you were never going to do that again.

“… Let’s go,” Kris said quietly, their voice echoing just enough to pull you all forward again.

Your group pressed on, footsteps rhythmically echoing around the unfamiliar space. Questions still lingered in your mind—about what Ralsei knew about you and the prophecy he was supposed to tell you. Susie seemed to know something about the prophecy, did Kris know about it, too? Did they know anything about you and your involvement? You glanced at the trio walking just ahead. Ralsei was humming a soft tune, his cape swaying with each bounce in his step. Susie was grumbling about “another detour” and “just wanting to hit something already.” And Kris—Kris remained unreadable, walking just slightly behind the others, silent as ever. Why didn’t they say anything back there? Why was it that you, of all people, were "the star that will mend the bonds"?

You sighed, scratching your head in frustration. There were too many questions, but too few answers. 

I guess I’ll wait for Ralsei’s explanation later.

The four of you head to a cliff with yellow arrows—something you were familiar with in this world. Without thinking, you moved first, stepping ahead to scout it, until a sudden tug at your shirt pulled you back. You turned in surprise.

Kris stood behind you, hand still gripping your clothes, “Long way down.”

You turned back to the cliff and almost immediately fear washed your entire body. One step closer and you would’ve been down there, laying flat. 

“… Thanks,” you whispered to your childhood friend, your pulse still hasn’t slowed.

“I’m going ahead, nerds,” Susie called, already sliding down the slope with a confident huff, “try not to fall off the cliff or whatever!”

Ralsei hesitated for a moment, glancing between the two of you, “I’ll make sure Susie doesn’t accidentally break anything… or anyone.” He offered a small, warm smile before following after her.

Their voices and footsteps faded. You and Kris were left in silence, a long pause. And then—

“... Hand,” Kris spoke up, their voice quiet but firm.

You blinked. They had extended their hand to you—calm, yet a little hesitant. Not demanding, but… waiting. You look up, meeting their crimson eyes. Something about the gesture made your chest ache a little. Their gaze felt familiar, unlike the ones observed from them just moments ago. You weren’t sure if it was the same person you’d been watching just minutes ago—the one who felt distant, cold, almost mechanical. Kris didn’t say anything else but continued on staring at your eyes, gaze unreadable but grounded. 

You swallowed the lump in your throat and reached for their hand. Their grip was steady and surprisingly warm, making your heart beat a little faster than you’d like to admit. 

Hand in hand together, you both took the first step down. Sliding on a dangerously long slope while holding hands with your childhood friend in an unfamiliar place with robots and moving wires was certainly not your kind of supposed study session. Still, the warmth radiating on Kris’ hand and the comfort you’ve longed for all this time made the chaos feel… bearable. You tried not to think too hard about how tightly you were holding on—or how tightly they held back.

As you and Kris slid further down the slope, a blur of grey, gold, and booming bass erupted from above, matching you and Kris’ pace while sliding down.  A short, square-headed figure zipped into view, its body shaped like a living speaker, with wobbly wires as limbs and their speaker-looking head bobbing rhythmically. An 8-bit music groovy enough for you to bob your head mid-air was playing from its head… speaker. 

“Wait, Kris, who’s tha—” Before you could finish your sentence, something hit Kris. Not physically—but rhythmically. A glowing beat-shaped projectile slammed into their chest, knocking their balance off. Their grip on your hand tightened as they stumbled, pulling you slightly forward. You gasped, nearly toppling over yourself as you both continue falling. 

“You okay?” you yelled over the wind, hoping Kris could hear you, “Whoever that is, they better not be the one doing that!”

“... Yeah,” Kris gritted out, hand still gripping yours tight. Then softer, almost out of breath—“You’ll be okay.”

“Wha—?” You whipped your head toward them, heart racing, “What do you mean me? You’re the one who just got hit!”

But Kris didn’t answer. Their eyes were locked ahead—focused, sharp. Another rhythm-laced projectile lit up the air, pulsing toward you both. 

“… Duck!” they barked, and instinctively, you dropped low just as the beat whizzed past your head. Your body slid faster from the shift in weight, and Kris tugged you closer, using the momentum to steady you both. The air roared past your ears as you kept sliding, dodging glowing notes and gripping Kris’ hand like it was the only thing keeping you grounded.

Then finally, after a gruelling session of dodging and intense hand holding out of pure survival, your feet hit solid ground. You staggered forward, nearly collapsing, but Kris held on, pulling you upright. 

You gasped for breath, hair windswept, adrenaline still spiking in your veins. “Okay… that was not in the library’s afterschool plans.”

Ahead, the square-headed figure skidded into a pose, striking a confident pose as it flies, or hovers away. 

You looked at Kris, still catching your breath, “Okay. What is happening right now?”

Kris, still unusually calm, gave you a look that said: Welcome to the Dark World.

“Took you nerds long enough,” Susie shouted from the end of the slope, a toothy grin spread across her face, “C’mon, let’s go!”

You were about to speak out about what just happened when your eyes landed on the scenery in front of you. The sky was painted dark blue with a green web enclosing the whole space. Countless tall buildings emerged from below, a few of its lights shining bright enough for you to squint your eyes even if they were miles away. Everywhere you looked, it was all neons, metals, and technology, making for what you surmised was some kind of cybernetic city. A huge sign hovers near the pathway, the words ‘CYBER WORLD’ glowing in neon green. 

You took a step forward, feeling the cool metal beneath your footwear reverberate softly. “… This is where we are now?” you muttered, more to yourself than anyone.

“Welp. Cool, I guess?”

[starryjkoo]

so can we talk about jikook now 😭

Ask #2

the amount of crash outs happening these past few days lol https://x.com/jikookreports/status/1937517826106921229

lmao, where to even start oh my god 😭 sorry this is going to be all over the place

they just spent 18 months together but the first thing they wanted to do post-military was travel together (and feed swans)? so not only are they not sick of each other after all that, they actually wanted to spend more time together? All of the other members have been doing solo activities, traveling solo, meeting up with their other friends, but somehow jikook, the only two members who were never separated, are the ones traveling together? For over a week? 😭 and they’re being all cute, giggly, and happy?

i mean, it’s not surprising because it’s jikook, but it’s still one of those times where they randomly do something crazy that not even jikookers were anticipating. and they really, actually don’t get sick of each other, which is also crazy to me. you would have to get along with someone so well to be able to spend that much time with them and in all those different situations too. we again already knew that about jikook, but every time i’m reminded it still surprises me for some reason. it’s why the story of JK going to jimin’s room for hours to hang out has always been one of my favorites. being so close with someone that you literally seek them out just because you find comfort in their presence is just so…

if it really is ays i’m going to go even more crazy because they genuinely love that show so much and that’s always made me so soft. they had so much fun making it, coming up with the title, the little catchphrase, giggling over their mishaps and hoping armys would find it funny. they really loved those trips. i think they also loved it because it was their thing that they created together, if that makes sense. i thought they were even a little protective of it in jeju lol. i just think it’s sweet how much they loved it, so if they really wanted to continue it first thing out of the military? like they mentioned having all these late night conversations about their future plans, so were they really in their talking about taking trips together again too? 😭 no clue if ays is actually what they’re doing or if it’s something else but i’m excited either way. I’m really just glad it looks like they’re taking it easy and having fun, no matter what they’re up to.

also that dance challenge video was peak jikook. everything about it gives me cute aggression. how can they have so much fun just recording a little dance challenge? what do you even focus on, there’s just so many cute little moments? jk down there on the ground and the silly camera angles and the humming and giggling. they’re just so cute and playful, and what exactly are they laughing about? the way they STILL just have so much fun doing whatever together? and seeing jimin dance again was like crack, he’s just amazing, i can’t wait to see him back on stage. i’m glad that he posted because there’s nothing better than getting confirmation straight from the source so yeah i guess those of us who were holding back can freely scream now lmao 😭

genuinely so curious what they’re up to and where all they’ve been but i guess we’ll find out eventually it’s just nice to know that they’re having fun. hopefully people will give them space and privacy. so curious if jimin will actually go to the dior show! also i would die if what they’re doing has anything to do with music. i kind of doubt it but that would be awesome. honestly it’s just nice to be reminded they’re free and out of there and we’re going to be getting any kind of content from them lol (solo or duo or ot7, even random social media updates).

but it’s a really cute way to close out their military service considering they traveled together right before they enlisted and that was partially the theme of the show. in sapporo it even felt heavy at times because it was clearly on their mind and on top of everything else they were using the trip as a way to make memories to look back on while they were in there (something they literally voiced). it really is full circle that the first thing they wanted to do was travel together again. that might be the format they feel comfortable sharing their military stories with us considering they can edit out anything that they’re not supposed to share. idk, there’s just so much to unpack, but we still really have no idea what’s up so 😭 it might not be anything like we’re expecting too, or it might not be content at all who knows.

and yeah we’re about to see the most insane crash outs 🥴 although i guess they’ve already started crashing out. i haven’t been online too much yet so i haven’t seen the scope of it but the link you sent + i know especially JJKs were really upset leading up to this already. i think other people have already articulated and called out how insane and entitled those sorts of fans are. it’s genuinely crazy to see them threaten to unstan because jkk are hanging out when they’ve always been like this. not sure what else jikook are going to have to do for these people to understand that they genuinely just enjoy being around each other. was enlisting together and talking about relying on each other not clear enough? JK calling ays the best trips of his life or talking about doing twelve more seasons not enough? it’s also kind of pathetic that they have to make everything about “fanservice” instead of just acknowledging that jikook are, i don’t know, friends? 🥴 they’d really shade the person they supposedly stan instead of just admitting jikook enjoy hanging out together. or do they really just see all their interactions as romantic?

they’re just constantly trying to gaslight themselves that jikook hate each other so they can feel better about their own feelings/ship. Or they're so narcissistic they can’t help but project their own feelings onto jikook and fully believe it’s reality. those sorts of fans just want to control them, live vicariously through them and their careers, and have no care or respect for them as individuals and human beings. and the fans crashing out about wanting music instead, it’s so stupid because they’re obviously going to be working on music and other solo projects soon (they could even be doing that right now). so it’s not about that, it’s just that THEY can’t stand jkk being close which is so pathetic. and no, i don’t have any issue with people just not being interested in certain content (some ppl straight up just don’t like non-music content in general and that’s fine), but that’s not the situation with these “fans”.

also those anti-jikook narratives are just so ridiculous and stupid and they look even crazier post military. jikook very clearly have autonomy to do whatever they want to do, just like all the other members are doing right now. they’re trying to come up with all these excuses for a possible ays season 2 instead of considering that jikook just enjoyed making it and wanted to do it again. or whatever they’re doing together is simply because it’s something they want to do. the company cant force any of them to do shit 😭 (which is funny because if tkkrs could they would absolutely make the company force tkk to do a subunit since they’re so obsessed with trying to demand it even though if tkk wanted to they just would). trust if this was a calculated move by the company then we’d be getting ot7 content or tkk content, not jkk when literally their solos hate each other the most, there already is jkk content, and when they’re the most disliked duo in the fandom (obviously they have a ton of fans, but no duo is actively disliked more than jkk either). literally saw some armys tkkrs actually whining about it being more likely that we get a jkk subunit before tkk as if that’s a normal response to seeing jkk hanging out together. this fandom man…

another thing is that jikook aren’t oblivious to the fact that there are a lot of people who don’t like seeing them together. but they clearly don't care 😭. i’m sure they know the situation with each others solos, and even shippers to an extent. the fact that their first activity out of the military is doing something together just shows how little regard they have for any fans that dislike or diminish their friendship and that they will continue to do whatever the hell they want. i just think that’s so cool? they stay unbothered and catering to no one but genuine fans who appreciate them for who they are and respect them doing whatever they want to do.

just kind of rambling now, but i also think it’s cool how they’re fine with their branding having this much overlap? because yeah jikook are being associated a lot with each other officially lately. that’s honestly just because they’re close and enjoy doing things together and i don’t think anything more to it than that. but basically everything post military has been jikook. their whole official press conference return, their return live, their photobooth pictures and first social media posts (has JK even posted anything other than JM yet? sorry if i’m forgetting 😭). jimin has posted jk several times now (still soft about him using still with you), and now their first official activity might be something together.

i really hope this isn’t taken the wrong way. obviously they are very serious about their solo careers which are wholly their own and have nothing to do with the other and i’m expecting them to go all in on that soon. not claiming at all they don’t want to be seen as individuals because they very much do and should be and i can’t wait for jjk2 and pjm3 and their solo concerts. they work so insanely hard on their solo carers and i know that they're both workaholics and probably already have a bunch of insane stuff planned. i hate when people try to associate everything they do with the other. but it’s cool that they also just… i don’t know, don’t mind it to this degree? are cool with this level of association? that it’s just kind of happening naturally because they’re just… genuinely close like that lol? despite the fact that so many people hate seeing them together, which is something i’m sure they know?

well, this is getting away from me a bit, just happy about jikook and happy all of bts are finally free, solo content coming (very likely jjk2 and tour and im sure jm will also hopefully do something 🙏), group album possibly as soon as march. it’s nice to have these things to gush about and look forward to especially with everything else going on in the world right now 🫠 seeing jimin dancing again was healing and jikook’s giggles were healing and them feeding swans is so patented jikook wholesome lol and also healing. and also they’ve both just seemed so incredibly happy in every piece of content post-military and that’s so nice to see? that dance challenge was really everything because it’s just nice to see them silly and playful and happy. jimin’s silliness in that video and then the way he clocked in for the last half? i know they’re both itching to get back on stage which has me so excited as a fan as well.

and yeah it’s nice that i can finally unleash lol because i didn’t want to get all sappy on it until there was some sort of confirmation, because they do make me really soft. just kind of amazing to have someone in life you love and connect with that much, whatever type of love, it’s just really warm and rare to find. it’s insane that some people are so nasty inside that they begrudge them that closeness because they’re selfish and insecure when they clearly provide so much support and happiness to each other. but anyways glad as always that jikook continue to do their thing, and i’m really excited for ch3.

[strawberryblondebutch]

Am I remembering correctly that one of the sirens' structural flaws this padt season was just how young their team is? And they just tossed aside some of the few veterans they had to get even more rookies? I feel like it was very telling when fillier had to throw the whole team on her back when carpenter was injured (it didn't work great) despite being a rookie. Am I right to be skeptical of this strategy, if it can be called that

Sometimes when I talk about sports I talk about numbers and studies. Other times — because most of my experience is from playing the game — I talk about woo woo feelings bullshit that has no scientific basis but that I believe very strongly. For instance, I don’t like separating best friends, because the season is long and emotionally taxing and when you’re on the road a lot, it helps to have a buddy there.

The WNBA and PWHL have a leg up when it comes to young teams, which is that… their rookies actually know how to play the damn sport. The NBA and NHL throws kids with raw talent but no fundamentals right into the deep end, and the sink-or-swim approach is. Well. Bad!

However, veteran players provide two major strengths to a team:

Identity. These are players in leadership positions who set the tone for the team. The Fleet and Charge had very strong identities last year under Knight and Jenner. The Sirens were already on weaker standing there — if anything, it was Carpenter’s team, and then she got hurt — but now it’s Fillier’s team, and that’s a lot of responsibility on such a young player. The quote about her having a voice on personnel was crazy. She should be the team’s Han Solo — there to shoot.

Veterans have SEEN SOME SHIT. They hold their composure better in stressful situations because it is not the craziest thing to happen to them. When you don’t have that presence, you get the 2023 Baltimore Orioles, who won 101 regular season games but were swept in the playoffs because oh shit oh fuck there’s pressure on us this is scary what are we doing.

I also don’t love that NY has decided that they are The Rookie Team, because in my experience, a team works best as a relay. The Frost, to their credit, have done this very well with three micro-cores of players. KCS (33), Lee/Nic (31), and Taylor/Grace (25) are all from different eras. You can’t put all the pressure on Kalty/Casey/Fillier.

I have more thoughts on the Sirens culture and character (or lack thereof) that are even less coherent, but yeah. Bottom line I don’t like that they’re going all in on children. And some of that is sentimental because I really wanted OB to have a season where she could be a kid with no responsibility and she is almost certainly going to get honorary leadership duties 🫠

[s0s1mple]

BLOSSOM — Yan!Idol!Enha x Reader

Part 8 — Onset

TW: Unhealthy fixation/dependance, possessive behavior, minor panic attack, anxiety (reader is gendered and named)

Masterlist — Part 1 -- Next Part

‘ding dong’ 

‘wdym ding dong’

‘look out ur window :)’

‘u look like a creep’

‘:(‘ I huffed out a quiet laugh, waving at the male outside my apartment complex. Jungwon was standing under the tree just across the street, all suited up in his jacket and mask and hat camouflage. He waved back dorkily though, and I began making my way down. As soon as I reached him outside, his eyes crinkled happily.

“What’re you doing here?” I asked, bumping shoulders with him as I began to walk down the street. Jungwon walked in pace, bumping his shoulder back against mine.

“Wanted to walk you to work, that’s all. Figured you might like some company.” He hummed. My slight smile stretched wider and I cooed a bit under my breath, touched by the sentiment. How sweet of him! 

“Oh really? Thanks. I’m surprised you remembered when my shift started, actually.”

Jungwon shrugged, maneuvering himself as we walked to be on my opposite side. The cars rushed by him on the road, kicking up leaves to swirl around us. “Can’t be a leader if you forget important things, right?”

“Yeah, because my job schedule is so important.” I snickered back. 

“Of course it is. I have to know it so I can see you, don’t I?” He said simply. I paused for a moment, a little taken aback by how earnest he sounded, before Jungwon giggled a bit. “I think the others would throw a fit if they didn’t get their Haneul fix, anyways. You’re integral to our schedule too, really.”

“You’re buttering me up. Don’t over exaggerate.” I scoffed, laughing a bit alongside him. We turned down a small line of shops leading up to my convenience store, and as always my eyes darted about to see what was on sale. I needed new shoes, now that I thought about it…

“Mmm…” he hummed noncommittally. Then he shifted topic. “Speaking of which, when are you free this week?” 

“Huh? Oh. I’m free Saturday this time around.” Immediately the crinkle in Jungwon’s eyes smoothed, and he sighed. “What, are you busy that day?”

“Yeah, we’ve got this movie thing to film…” Jungwon sounded put out by the idea, but my eyes widened and I grabbed his shoulder slightly. He seemed a bit startled by the move, eyes widening as he peered at my hand. I couldn’t quite tell the emotion given his mask, so I dropped my hand shyly. But still I gushed.

“Movie thing? What? That sounds so cool!” I cheered. “Are you guys going to cameo on something? Or is Hybe actually making a movie? I wouldn’t be surprised with how much money they have.” 

Man, to be able to do something like that? I wasn’t interested in being on camera, but the idea of being behind it? Of seeing all the lighting teams and set designers and more running around making magic? That was a dream come true. Once upon a time, when I was younger and more unrealistic about my life, I wanted to be a prop maker. In my small town we hadn’t had much in the way of extracurricularlies, but we did have a good few plays we would put on for harvest and food festivals. The memory of such a thing still stayed with me, of the way the play came to life with the simple backdrops I made and rigged. 

So when Sunghoon or the others sent me photos of that world, it made me irrationally happy. And the notion that they actually went to the next level in production to make mini films? That was crazy to me. Crazy cool.

Jungwon shook his head. “Oh no, nothing like that. We do these mini concept films sometimes, less than ten minutes long, to promote our albums.” I nodded. “Vampire lore stuff.” 

“Vampire lore stuff,” I repeated. “But you still have a director. And cast, and crew, and all of that, right? How fun is it being on set?” I couldn’t keep the intrigued smile off my face, my words a bit more than excited. Jungwon’s gaze cut to mine, and he paused a moment before responding. 

“It’s tiring, to tell the truth, but it’s interesting too. I feel like you’d enjoy it a whole lot more than we would, at least.” He chuckled lightly. Then his eyes widened, and he turned more fully to me as he gently grasped my arm. I could practically see him beaming beneath his mask,  “Wait a minute, would you like to come on set on Saturday? We could hang out there!”

“Huh?” for a moment I didn’t process what he’d said.

“You like films and the process, don’t you? So how about you come and see it first hand?” Immediately my cheeks flushed a bit and I waved my arms around, shaking my head.

“Oh no, no. I’m not gonna interrupt your work-”

“But work is boring, Haneul! You’d be doing us a favor, really.”

“Yeah but the crew would be annoyed at me distracting you-”

“They won’t care, promise! Besides, don’t you trust us to be professional enough to know when to swap from play back to work-mode?” The look I was being given was nothing short of pathetic, Jungwon’s fingers gingerly holding my sleeve, shoulders hunched and tense as he peered at me with wide eyes. Was he really trying to do puppy eyes? He looked more like a cute, sad, kitten instead. I nibbled on my lip, debating, but with him looking so hopeful I could feel myself giving in.

Totally not because I also wanted to see a real set or anything. Yeah, totally not.

“You’re sure they wouldn’t be upset? Have you guys even told management about me? I can’t just go and show up when nobody knows who I am…” the thought of such a thing sent shivers down my spine. I wasn’t an overly anxious person, in fact being pretty confident once I felt comfortable in an environment, but that was the key thing: once I felt comfortable. If I was an intruder, that would most certainly not be the case, and that was my worst nightmare.

Jungwon hummed. “Uh… we didn’t tell him but… how about we smuggle you in?”

“Woah, no way!” I began walking again upon checking my watch and seeing I was cutting it close when it came to work. Jungwon bounded up to easily match pace with my quick strides.

“No, no, listen! There are so many people on set all the time that if you just cover up and we move you in with us through the security gate, people will just assume you work there. Trust me, it’ll be fine.” I shot him a side glance and furrowed my brows.

“Jungwon, that’s risky. You guys could get in trouble.” I couldn’t believe the leader, who had seemed so put together and responsible when it came to group matters up until this point, was trying to essentially get me to break in. 

“They’re not going to do anything to us, don’t worry.” He seemed slightly amused, chuckling. As if the notion of me worrying over such a thing was endearing.

“Jungwon-“

“Haneul-noona…” and there, all of a sudden, was a whiny tone I’ve only heard a few times from Riki of all people. It occurred to me then how childish this all was. Usually in such a case, I would put an end to the nonsense immediately upon realizing that sort of thing, but this time…? It actually made my heart swell with a slight fondness because I understood that Jungwon would hardly be acting in such a way if it didn’t mean a lot to him.

If I didn’t mean a lot to him.

“Ok. Fine.” The conformation tumbled out suddenly, my voice still anxious but betrayed by the fond smile on my lips. Jungwon brightened instantly, hands going right back to my arm as he bounced a little. 

“Really? Awesome! Well text you about it and let you into the building on Saturday! This is gonna be so great.” And just like that, for the remaining two blocks to my work, Jungwon’s arm hooked into mine and he chattered my ear off talking about some of the scenes they would be doing and whatnot. It was probably the most I’d heard Jungwon spiel on about something, and somehow I got the impression it wasn’t because he was excited about the shoot itself.

Oh yeah, because he told me so.

So seeing him so happy now, so enthused, made my heart warm considerably. We stopped outside of the convenience store, and I pulled my arm from his. Jungwon’s arm held in position for a moment, before he dropped it and seemed to relax just a little. Like he was remembering to breathe or something after finally slowing his ramble, I would assume. “Alright then. Just give me the details, and I sort of promise that I won’t chicken out.”

“Better not.” Jungwon chuckled.

“Sort of…”

“Noona…” 

“Fine, I promise.” Jungwon grinned so wide I could see his cheeks puffing up at the edge of his mask, dimples slightly visible. His arms fluttered like he wanted to do something with them, then he simply waved goodbye.

“Good luck on your shift! Text me if you get bored!” I rolled my eyes playfully, saluted the male, and disappeared into the store the millisecond the clock hit time. 

My coworker, so used to me being there five minutes early at the latest, instantly asked if everything was alright. I soothed her worries, bought her a milk for making her worry and wait, and sent her on her way. Then it was right to my place behind the counter, where I’d probably begun to wear a hole into the floor in the exact size and shape of my feet. Screw dental records, they’d be able to ID me through that alone. 

My gaze drifted to the little fox sitting below the counter and I grabbed it and set it off to the side under the gum stand. Sunny stared at me with its cute little beady eyes, and I stared back before sighing.

“Just you and me in the trenches again, huh?”

“Here, here, and here.” Jake shoved a mask, some eyeglasses, and a ball cap into my hands. “Operation is a go once you’re all disguised.” His tone was excited, his smile wide, but he was nodding and behaving like this was some covert military mission at the same time. Frankly, it was dorky and adorable. But I couldn't really appreciate that fact right now considering the nerves gnawing at me like crazy. I put on the eyeglasses- luckily not prescription otherwise I might trip and ruin something- before staring at the ball cap apprehensively.

“Won’t wearing a ball cap inside be suspicious? Besides, that’s more of an American thing isn’t it?” I mumbled, trying to hand it back.

“Good point…” Sunghoon murmured. Jake visibly deflated a little, and Jay stepped up to the plate by leaning in to grab the cap. 

“Here, I’ll do it. You’ll look natural if the purpose of the cap is to keep the hair out of your face. Besides, plenty of the crew wears hats when bringing props inside.” He leaned in and groomed my hair back against my scalp, making me tense a little in surprise as his face loomed before me. His lips were pursed as he focused, and I couldn’t stop my slight smile. Jay noted it and huffed lightly, but his eyes were soft. On came the hat, pulled snuggly and tightly down to keep all my locks in place. He spent some time brushing the stragglers behind my ear before Sunoo cleared his voice and interrupted.

“You should wear glasses more! You look so cute…”

“But I don’t need glasses…” I mimicked Sunoo’s whine and pout, resulting in a giggle alongside a playfully stern look.

“So?” He handed me the mask, and I reached up to grab it, but he was already looping the strings around my ears and pulling it up to my chin. My hands hovered awkwardly for a moment as I was again a little startled by how close and touchy the males were being today as I got ready, but I figured it was probably for the best considering they knew how their own staff looked. Sunoo clasped one of my hovering hands in his, cooing all over again. “We should really get you your own stylist or something. You’d fit right in as an idol! I’d bet people would fight over photocards of you like this…”

“Pfft.” I rolled my eyes, well aware that with my haphazard makeup today- had to look under the radar, after all- that was hardly the case. “Lying is a sin, you know.”

“He’s not lying.” Jay hummed, eyes scanning me up and down. But Jay just adjusted the sleeve of my hoodie appraisingly, normally, before deciding it was good enough. God, what was going on today? My cheeks felt warm, all the eyes on me for once feeling kind of oppressive. Not a bad oppressive, not a suffocating oppressive, but a sort of pressure over me. Like a weighted blanket.

“Cute.” Sunghoon muttered before going right back to adjusting his tie in the van’s front mirror, face even. I flushed a bit more at how earnest he sounded, my brows furrowing in confusion at the nonchalant comment, before Riki piped up and eased my nerves. He threw an arm around me, pulling up my mask so I was covered before miming taking a photo with his fingers. His tongue stuck out in mock concentration.

“I’d buy out thousands of albums just to see that face!” He made a vague motion at my covered face, and I tilted my head with an exasperated sigh even as I was sure my crinkled eyes were showing just how amused I was. 

“I should do an ending fairy like this. My sister says people like that sort of stuff, right?” 

“Oh yeah, for sure.” Riki grinned right back, arm tightening around my shoulders, before Heeseung was waltzing over and gently dislodging me to begin our walk towards the big concrete shooting studio. Instantly I was tense, but his relaxed gait and the easy-going way he smiled at me made me relax just a tad. 

“Still can’t believe I’m doing this…” I mumbled as I spotted a too-pleased looking Jungwon by the door various staff were flitting in and out of. My steps slowed, like my subconscious was trying to stop me, but Heeseung’s body was angled slightly behind me and I had little choice but to keep moving forwards.

“I can’t either. I’m so glad you decided to come with us. It was going to be torture otherwise.” Heeseung grinned a bit, and I fidgeted with my fingers as I tried to match how calm he was. 

“Jungwon is scarily persuasive…”

“Yeah, he knows just how to get everyone he meets to do what he wants. Can’t tell if that’s because he’s the leader, or because he’s one of the youngest and spoiled rotten…” Heeseung mused, tapping his chin thoughtfully. I couldn’t help but giggle at that, bumping shoulders with the male and earning a chuckle right back.  

“I heard that.” We’d reached Jungwon, and he narrowed his eyes slightly at his elder. Heeseung smiled back innocently.

“Heard what?”

“Mmm… already, you ready noona?” Jungwon shifted his attention to me, eyeing the crowd of staff walking in with lights to set up. I, on the other hand, was momentarily distracted as I pointed to his hair. It was… blond. A very beautiful blond, in my opinion.

“You changed your hair.” I commented dumbly. He just grinned a dimpled smile at me.

“I did. Do you like it?” At that, I immediately nodded. Jungwon’s grin stretched wider, eyes crinkling. Then he cleared his throat and patted my shoulder, speaking up loudly. “Here, just go help them out with setting up. I know it’s easy to get lost on your first day. Thank you for your help!” Then, with a discreet push from Heeseung on my upper back, I stumbled into line with the rest of the staff.

For an instant time slowed down as their eyes landed on me. I half expected an alarm to go off and for their gaze to disintegrate me on the spot, and the urge to run right back to Heeseung and Jungwon and hide behind them was incredibly intense. But instead a woman at the back of the line spoke up, voice a little strained. “This way. Here, you can help me carry this.” Her box was practically overflowing, so I jumped at the chance and grabbed some parts out of the top to carry. Instantly she sighed in relief, introducing herself. “I’m Jiyeon. Did you accidentally go in through the wrong door?”

“Oh, uh-” My eyes slid to Jungwon and Heeseung, who were already returning to the loading area where the rest of the boys were getting their jackets all fixed up. “Yeah, my mistake. I was just nervous for my first day, I think. I’m Haneul.” I didn’t hesitate giving my name, a fact that made me wince a bit internally, but Jiyeon greeted me all the same. 

“Nice to meet you, Haneul-ssi. I’ll show you around in that case, since we’re matching.” She chuckled as we entered the building, walking right past the guards as Jiyeon nodded to them. I blinked in slight surprise before realizing she was right. I’d been too nervous to even process it. My eyes slid over her mask, to the backwards ballpark cap she was wearing, and in that moment I was incredibly thankful to Jake and the others for dressing me accordingly. 

“Ah, we are! Thank you…” I bowed lightly as we set down the equipment near a filming station. I peeked over, intrigued by the setup they were building. It was almost like… an american talk-show set? Oh yeah, Jungwon did mention something about that during our walk, didn’t he? “Um, what else can I help you with then?”

“Just help me set up this light. You were briefed on it in the training, right?”

For a moment, panic hit me. My eyes darted down to the pieces we’d carried as Jiyeon began taking them from the box. But then, to my surprise, the pieces looked familiar. Hadn’t the technical students in my school used the same thing? I would have thought they had super advanced lighting, but here was something I’d helped with before. With a sigh of relief, I bent down and helped her again. “Yeah, of course.” And as I worked alongside her, my nerves slowly left. This was something I was familiar with, something I could definitely impress with. My limbs moved automatically, memories flooding back, and in no time we had things set up.

“Come on, let’s go see who else needs help.” Jiyeon pulled us over to various other crew members, introducing us to each other, before I finally noticed that the boys had arrived. Jake, Jay, Sunoo, Jungwon, and Sunghoon were all getting their makeup done, and it looked like they’d already been there for a while. I must not have been paying attention. I tried to shoot them a quick smile as I passed, but remembered my mask and felt a bit silly. Jungwon at least caught my eye and smiled back, waving and bowing his head in time with the staff I was with. I didn’t risk any further interaction than that, and just followed along with the staff.

Honestly, it was more interesting to me than their makeup and costuming anyways. 

Camera dollies, hanging lights, boom mics, and more… I was swiveling my head this way and that, curiously studying everything. Jiyeon and her friend pulled me over to move some bleachers, and in the next thirty minutes I was already joking around with the crew like we’d been friends for ages. 

Which was surprising for me, really, considering I was generally pretty quiet. Not shy, but quiet. Calm. So to find myself giggling as fellow ex-theater students told stories, I was all too happy. “Alright, everyone please gather around so we can get started. Quickly, quickly!” And I waddled after the others like a little duckling, hiding half behind Jiyeon as I watched the director and producer step up. “Hello everyone! Let’s work hard today, alright? Would our stars we’re helping today like to introduce themselves?”

Jungwon greeted with a friendly smile, then struck an odd hand sign. The other males made the same sign, and in unison they declared, “One, two, connect! Hello, we are Enhypen!” I blinked in surprise. They had an introduction? Cool. Jungwon spoke up, taking up his role as leader, and bowed to us all. “I’m Enhypen’s leader, Jungwon. Thank you for helping us today.” He looked up, eyes scanning over the crowd, before his eyes settled on me for a fraction of a second longer. 

“Hello, I’m Sunoo.” Sunoo stepped forward next, voice quiet yet enthused. He looked so different from what I was used to, makeup making his eyes all the sharper and his skin porcelain pale. 

“I’m Jake!” Jake grinned earnestly, and I was truthfully a bit surprised by the sight of his slicked back hair. It made his face look different, more angular and powerful. His styling was definitely at odds with his sunny disposition as he greeted the staff.

“Thanks for working with us. I’m Jay.” Jay greeted with a polite bow. His hair was dusted across his forehead, his features painted in such a mature, angular manner- even more so than before, which just made me think of how soft he really looked when compared to this carefully crafted view.

“I’m Sunghoon.” Sunghoon, as per usual, was muted but polite. And wow, he’d always looked the most like the quintessential k-pop idol, but now? I could very easily see him in the role of a drama, more than likely as a wealthy CEO or something with how his hair was elegantly pulled back.

But where were Heeseung and Riki? Now that I thought about it, I hadn’t seen them getting ready today at all. I had assumed they were maybe off in another room getting ready due to lack of space or something, but now I didn’t see them at all. Were they not filming today? Then why were they out in the lot? I furrowed my brows, then tuned back in as the producer began delegating some more tasks. As he got to me, Sunoo suddenly walked over.

“Ah, sorry to interrupt, but I was wondering if you could help me out?” He gently got the director’s attention. 

“Hm? Of course.”

“Can I have someone help us keep track of our phones and some of our belongings? I know most of our things are back in the car, but we can’t really leave some of this stuff, and we want to make sure it doesn’t get taken…” Sunoo began shyly. I stood off to the side awkwardly, hiding a smile- not that I needed to- as Sunoo worked whatever plan he and the boys had more than likely concocted to get me over to them. It was cute, actually, the way this really felt like some sort of undercover mission. “It would be best to have someone specific in charge of them so if one goes missing, we know who to approach. If that’s alright, of course…” The producer nodded immediately, seemingly more than happy to accommodate the young star before him, and even more so to avoid being held liable for lost property.

“Ah, of course! Good thinking. Let me see…” His head swiveled around, scanning his employees, gaze drifting over my head and missing me entirely. I arched a brow. I was right there. Sunoo seemed to agree, as he piped up again.

“Producer-nim, could I just take her aside since she’s already here? Unless you already have something in mind.” Instantly the male nodded, practically ushering me off with Sunoo. Just like that, it was mission accomplished. As we walked off towards the chairs for the actors, Sunoo giggled to me and bumped my shoulder lightly. I giggled discreetly right back.

“Nice one!”

“Obviously.” Sunoo scoffed back playfully. 

As soon as we reached the chairs, I was handed a basket of their belongings and given a seat right next to their chairs for ease of access. Jake grinned at me, leaning over his chair’s arm-rest to peer at my smaller chair. “Look at that! Now you don’t have to be standing all day. Great cover-story, huh?”

“Perfect.” I hummed back. “You know, I was so skeptical about coming here, but now that I’m here? This is like… a dream come true or something.” I trailed off a bit, suddenly a little shy at expressing my thanks so genuinely. I usually avoided doing such things verbally, instead opting to show my gratitude in other ways, but it was worth the discomfort for the bright look that spread over Jake and Sunoo’s features.

“I’m so glad!” Sunoo clapped his hands slightly, the mere idea that I was pleased seeming to make him giddy. It was infectious.

“Which part is the dream? Getting to see the cameras, or getting to be with us?” A sudden voice right next to my ear had me startling, jumping in my seat and making my ears flame. I yelped, jerking my head to the side, and turned to see Heeseung’s grinning face. He had a beanie on, and was still in casual clothes. He laughed at my reaction and straightened up to his full height, sipping on his coffee. 

Fingers suddenly corded through my hair, and yet again I was startled. I quickly registered what the movement was. Heeseung had absentmindedly ruffled my hair. Not to the extreme, but just under the back of the hat, rearranging the hair there so it was nice and groomed again. I swallowed down the confusion at the sudden contact, never having taken Heeseung for a touchy type, and just glared playfully back. “Don’t mess up my hair.” I huffed. “And the cameras, obviously.”

“Mmhmm?” Heeseung smiled slightly, watching as an american male was guided in his lines on stage, and just kept fiddling with the ends of my hair. I sighed and let it be.

“I’m wounded! So mean…” Jake mock pouted at me.

“Oh, ok then. Which part is the dream, huh? Getting to see your fans, or getting to see me?” I fired back, tone just as playful. Before I could laugh and say, ‘thought so!’ or something of the like, the three of them spoke in messy unison. “You.”

“You!”

“You.” I paused, brows furrowing in disbelief, and when I registered what seemed to be completely serious expressions on their faces I laughed awkwardly. Would my ears ever stop burning? Why were they being so strange today? They didn’t even have the excuse of trying to get me disguised any more, and if anything were behaving too suspiciously as a whole. What if someone came over right now? Saw us chatting and touching each other? I wasn’t exactly permitted to be here after all…

My mind racing, spurring nervous thoughts, seemed to register to Jay as he passed by with a script in hand. He swatted at Heeseung’s hand, ushering the males who were acting today to each sit in their respective seats. “Hey, our manager is just over there. Relax a little. You’re making her nervous anyways, hovering around her like a bunch of vultures or something.” His voice was light but stern, and with a pout Sunoo returned to his seat. How he could tell I was nervous when I had glasses and a hat and a mask on to cover me, I couldn’t quite tell. But either way, Heeseung shrugged and grabbed an identical seat to mine. He set it right next to my chair and sat down. Just enough distance to look correct, but way closer than I knew he would sit next to another staff member. Jake, in that high chair on my other side, crossed his arms and bounced his leg. His eyes kept darting to me like he wanted to say something, before he would nervously look around and refrain. 

I nodded to Jay, a silent appreciation. Jay’s lips curved at the edges, a half-smile and half-smirk, before he was suddenly called off towards the stage to take his place. “Wish me luck, Haneul.” He threw over his shoulder before heading over to the edge of the frame. I gave him a double thumbs up even if he couldn’t see it as the director began talking with him.

“So how long do these things last? I’ve heard some movie scenes can take hours…” I leaned over and asked Heeseung. He shrugged and swirled his drink.

“Really depends. With this? Today’s shoot will probably be decently short since it’s dialogue mostly and not much spectacle.” 

“Oh, ok.” I couldn’t stop the slight disappointment in my voice. He seemed immediately bewildered, which I supposed was fair. Jake made a similarly confused noise, seemingly listening from above. 

“You want to stay here the whole day?” Jake’s brows raised in disbelief. I chuckled, fiddling with the edges of the box of phones in my lap.

“Well, it’s not like I want to be here that long or anything. It’s more like… I know that when I leave, I probably won’t get the opportunity to see all of this again.”

“Why wouldn’t you?” Sunghoon until this point hadn’t spoken much, perhaps zoning out as I had discovered was somewhat common for the male. But now he leaned forwards a bit, enough to peek out from his place beside Jake and look at me. It was my turn to be confused.

“Well, because-” I cut myself off, trying to think of the right words. This wasn’t my world, this wasn’t where I belonged, you probably aren’t going to invite me again since it’s been such a hassle, what if you get caught? All these thoughts and more, and Jake broke back into the conversation with a scoff.

“What, you think we’re just going to stop being your friend or something after this? So long as you’re with us, we’re gonna take you places that make you happy.” He chuckled, like the idea of not entertaining my little childhood dreams was unfathomable.

“You keep acting like you’re not worth us spending time with you, or doing interesting things with you.” Heeseung tilted his head. I felt too studied all of a sudden, the male peering at me from under cherry bangs like I was some unique creature he didn’t quite understand. “But you also don’t act like we’re above you either. It’s confusing.”

“I’m just trying to be considerate.”

“Put yourself first sometimes. We all have busy schedules, and yet you’re the one always acting like everything is good and happy and fine. It’s ok to take time and do fun or immature things, you know.”

“Agreed.” Sunghoon hummed, gaze intense. He seemed to be on the same wave-length as Heeseung. I felt like his eyes were x-raying down to my very soul in that moment. Why was this conversation getting so personal again? So deep? I laughed awkwardly, swallowing the lump in the back of my throat at being called out so blatantly. I wasn’t a people pleaser, but they were certainly right. I put others concerns and wellbeing before myself, signing on for too many things at a time in the past just to make sure someone else had more time to do what they wanted. So many sacrifices just to make ends meet, so many sacrifices I didn’t need to take just to make loved ones feel and live better.

I didn’t need reminders of what I was putting myself through.

“Jay said not to hover, didn’t he? Besides, I think the director wants you for something, Jake.” I managed to say. Jake’s attention shifted to the director. I hadn’t lied, the director waving him over the second he caught his gaze. Jake sighed, casting me a last glance before leaving.

It was softer, more understanding, and made my insides twist uncomfortably. I didn’t know how I felt about people seeing me. Seeing that self that was below all those other things I put out there. The struggles. And god, the others had that exact same look. Not pitying, but understanding, which at the very least I was grateful for. 

And, as if to slice the tension, Jake’s chair was suddenly occupied again. I blinked in surprise when a bag of Banana Kicks was waved in front of my face. Riki had appeared. Dressed in his casual hoodie from before, he looked cozy as he grinned at me. “I got us some snacks! Your favorite, noona~” The way he was waggling the bag, like he was trying to lure some elusive animal, broke some of the seriousness. I laughed, moving to snatch it from his hands, but Riki pulled it out of the way just in time. “Nuh uh. Staff don’t eat on the job, remember?” 

“Wow, cruel. Just taunting me then?” I looked around, trying to see if people were watching, before swatting playfully at his arm. Riki just giggled, elated, and pulled the back open before chomping on one obnoxiously. I rolled my eyes so hard I probably saw the back of my skull. “Aish, this kid…”

“Say please and I’ll share.”

“Bite me.”

“Come over and bite me…” I heard Sunghoon mumble something off to the side, but I was distracted by Riki leaning down and holding a banana kick in front of my face. 

“Rude, but I’ll cut you slack since you won me that prize. Open wide.” His fingers were already brushing the side of my cheek, trying to gently slip the mask down. My eyes widened and I reached up to hold it in place. 

“Hey, you guys gave me this for a reason!”

“Well how else am I going to feed you if you have it on, huh?” He rolled his eyes right back at me, grinning slightly. I furrowed my brows at him. What a weirdo. But it seemed he was set on this idea, just a tad too eager about it for some bizarre reason- I chalked it up to too much sugar, personally- so I put an end to it by snatching the treat from his grasp. Down came my mask in a flash, in went the puff, and the mask was right back up. “Wha- hey!” 

“Mm, delicious, thanks!” And then, before he could respond and give me some smartass or bratty remark, it was all quiet on set. 

If there was an award for the quietest person alive, I might have been a candidate in that moment. I sat still, tense, eager as I watched them call the scene and watched Jay walk up to his place. A slow walk, a calm sit down. That american playing the talk show host talked, and Jay ran through some lines in return. His voice was low, soothing, deliberate. Different than I was used to. I couldn’t understand what was being said, but I personally thought he was doing a great job.

Evidently the director didn’t think the same, because while he was polite he requested another run through. And then a third. “More… intensity. You’ve got the charisma and the tone, but something in your face doesn’t feel like what we’re going for. This is about desire, remember? Try to focus on that idea and keep it in the back of your mind.” Back to the directors chair. “And, rolling!”

Again Jay went through the same lines, back and forth, but… 

His eyes landed on me. 

Never, never had I felt like Jay’s eyes were piercing. When I first met him, I’d thought him maybe a bit sharp around the edges. Certainly in looks, at least. Then I found that he was actually sweet. His gaze was soft, his disposition full of warmth. But this look?

If he was supposed to be channeling desire, he was doing a phenomenal job. Like a razor, sharp and dissecting. Like I was something that already belonged to him. There was some sort of silent promise just below the composed ghost of a smile on his face, something that felt dark and heavy like a weighted blanket. A vow, maybe. 

Were all of them such good actors?

“That’s perfect! Excellent job, Jay!” The director clapped, signalling the end of the scene, and there was a polite round of clapping. But Jay’s gaze lingered for a heartbeat longer. It felt like an eternity, but he finally blinked and there it was again. His gentle eyes, the shyness of a job well-done as he stepped off the stage and Jake prepared to do his scenes as well. Had I been holding my breath? I couldn’t tell until the air wooshed out of me in a long sigh. I clapped lightly, belatedly, and cheered him on softly as he returned to his seat next to Sunghoon.

“Good job!” I breathed as he passed me. Jay shot me a soft smile then, that sort of stupid gecko-smile that made me giggle, and Jake went up on stage instead.

Jake was a bit more nervous than Jay going on, especially since there was someone in a strange monster costume who would be sitting beside him. It was an odd cross between ridiculous and creepy, but Jake seemed to be having fun talking to the person beneath the mask. Then it was time to shoot, and Jake’s nerves were right back. He said his lines, but I could read the insecurity below the surface as he got into the lines were he was supposed to be expressing that hidden desire. The director sighed, putting a stop to it, and spoke up. “You’re having the same problem Jay-ssi was having. Try to pull from deep inside, think of somebody you like or even some food you want, anything that you crave. Ok? And… action.”

Jake took a deep breath, tilting his head to watch the american man- Jimmy, according to his role- before sliding his eyes and body front towards the camera. As I stole another Banana Kick from Riki’s fingers and ignored his soft protests, his eyes too came to rest on me. Again, I was struck frozen as Jake’s whole being seemed to shift. Not like Jay’s did, not sharp or inevitable, but something else. A yearning below the flesh, eyes intense and direct like he wasn’t just passively looking my way, but really seeing me. He wet his lips, fingers folding together and causing his knuckles to bloom white as he gripped hard. As if self-control was all he could cling to.

And then, right when the scene was over, it was just like Jay again. Right back to normal, all smiles and bowing as his take was approved and given praise. The difference was that his gaze lingered, that he made an instant beeline over to where I was and bounced lightly on his heels before me. “Haneul! Didn’t I do great? Isn’t that costume so cool?” He quickly fired, waving over to his new buddy beneath the mask.

I cleared my throat, shaking the odd crawling, invasive feeling created by his performance off, and grinned easily below my mask. “You did awesome.” I giggled. He leaned forward, down to my level, and it was now my turn to have my snack plucked from my hands. I slapped at his hands, but he just laughed, sticking out his tongue, and munched away. Then it was time for the interactions between Sunoo, Jungwon, Sunghoon, and Jay, and I was just left with Heeseung, Riki, and Jake. 

“Cards? Didn’t you bring cards, Heeseung-hyung?” Riki asked as Jake tried to shove him from his chair. The younger male just pushed Jake away easily, grinning as Jake cursed him out for taking his seat.

“Hm? Oh, yeah, I did!” Heeseung perked up, reaching into his back pocket. Out came the cards. Out they came, and he tried to shuffle them in a bridge. Did a cool flip of the card, eyes flickering up to mine to see if I was watching, and he pulled them into the correct position. Then they fell all over the floor and his expression collapsed, an embarrassed look passing over his face. Riki and Jake burst out into laughs. I set the box of phones aside and left my chair to help him pick them up. 

“Here, I’m really good at shuffling. Let me.” I swiped some cards from his hands, our fingers brushing, and he paused his movements to retrieve the cards. I felt his eyes on me as I finished gathering them, pushing them into the right place and straighting up to sit back down in my chair. 

And then the cards dropped all over the floor again in my surprise. 

Jake seemed to have convinced Riki to leave his chair, because suddenly Riki was sitting in my chair. Legs all sprawled out like the string bean he was, he was leaning back, and I’d accidentally sat in his lap. I squeaked, cheeks flaming behind my mask, and instantly jumped right back to my feet. Bizarrely, Riki just made grabby hands at me, trying to swipe me back into place as I stood up off of him. “Aw, come back! We can share so none of us have to sit on the ground.” He had the nerve to pout, in fact, like doing such a thing wasn’t inappropriate. I stammered for a moment, eyes darting around to see if anyone saw.

“A-Ah, um, I can just stand. A staff member can’t sit in- can’t sit that close.” I stammered. Riki’s pout deepened, brows furrowing behind his bangs. His head tilted, eyes studying me like I was saying something silly. But there was something heavier there, almost disapproving. It was gone so fast I could hardly say I was certain I saw it.

“But you’re not staff, noona.”

“Riki, leave it alone.” Heeseung finally came to my rescue and the cards were placed back into my palms. I swallowed thickly, nodding to him. Riki shot Heeseung an oddly venomous look before he was right back to asking me to give him the best cards with a mischievous grin. I relaxed as the mood shifted back to normal and dealt the cards out.

It wasn’t long before Riki was cheating, peeking at Jake’s cards in particular and then grinning like he’d won the lottery when Jake shrieked and hid his cards away. We didn’t have too much time to play given the fact that the others were wrapping up decently quickly, but the first game went to Riki, and the second went to Heeseung. Probably because I slipped him some cards just to combat Riki and get Jake some justice.

Then Jay was back, and Jake had to shoot a group shot. I watched curiously as they painted some blood onto his lip. “Can I join?” Jay leaned in and asked. I startled, taken out of my curious staring, and immediately dealt him into the game. The next game went to me, a fact that made me shift around happily where I stood. Oddly, none of the three males seemed too put out by the notion, a stark contrast to their reactions whenever another member won. I chalked it up to their familiarity with each other. By the time the others returned, we’d just hit a point where it was Jay and Riki dueling things out. Jungwon appeared behind Jay, shaking his shoulders in encouragement, and Sunoo took his side. All the others sided with Riki, Heeseung leaning in to coach the younger male. I giggled at how serious they were making the matter.

“No, no, play that one! You can’t let Jay win.” Heeseung murmured. I heard Jay scoff.

“He’ll never let us hear the end of it.” Sunghoon agreed, tone grave. That just made me laugh harder, especially when combined with the way Jay furrowed his brows and glared over the tops of his cards. 

“You’re totally done, Ni-ki, he’s got the best-” Sunoo began. But abruptly, he was cut off. In our fun, we hadn’t noticed that most of the crew had already packed up much of the equipment. And so, with that done, the producer had wandered over to discuss something with one of the members. 

“The box of phones. Where is it?” He asked suddenly. Everyone went quiet, confused momentarily. But I just paled as horror hit me like a train. I looked around my feet frantically, searching for the box that I’d been trusted with. Fake staff or not, I’d been given a duty. Did I seriously just lose my friends’ phones? Oh god, they were going to be upset, weren’t they? Guilt was already spreading over me. When I was trusted with something, the idea of breaking that trust whether intentionally or not was a horrific possibility. 

“I- I don’t-” I stammered, confused and frantic. The boys also looked around, peeking under their chairs to try and help, but it was quickly obvious that the thing I was supposed to take care of was not here. 

The producer inhaled sharply, pinching the bridge of his nose. “One job. You had one job.”

“Hey, it’s not her fault, alright? We were distracting her.” Jungwon immediately said, hands held out placatingly. But the producer just shot him a tired look.

“Distraction or not, it’s her job. She should know better than to get starstruck by the idols she works with and forget how to do that job.” His tone became more and more harsh, turning to that tone I was all too familiar with in my years of retail. Disapproval, harsh and unyielding, that view of me as a useless tool. I didn’t often hear such a tone, but I certainly remembered it when I did. With how much pride I put into my work, into my ability to be helpful and supportive and be there on time, it hurt like a knife being twisted in my gut when someone got onto me for my work. Maybe it was stupid, probably because of the combination of failing a task and failing my friends simultaneously, but I couldn’t stop the pressure from building behind my eyes. He just continued, his eyes narrowing. “Speaking of jobs, if we don’t find those phones you can count yours lost. What’s your name, hm?” 

Only then did I remember that I wasn’t really supposed to be there.

“Uh- it’s- um-” my hesitation had some of the members trying to speak up, likely to cover for me further, but the producer had already smelled blood and was leaning into my space to peer at me. “It’s Haneul!” For the second time that day, I stressed out and bleated my real name. He clicked his tongue.

“I don’t recognize you, and I definitely don’t recognize that name. Take your mask off.”

It was then that Jiyeon ran over, most of the cast having caught onto the ordeal and bringing even more eyes. She settled off to the side of the producer, nervously trying to get his attention. “Producer-nim, she’s helped us with camera and setup all day. She knows what she’s doing. I don’t think this is a sasaeng-”

“Mask off. Someone get me a list of our employees right now.” He cut her off with a wave of his hand, looming over me, and the pressure and stress built up higher.

“She didn’t do anything wrong-”

“The shooting day is almost done, let’s just let it be-”

“She’s not a sasaeng!” Everyone was talking. The producer, the crew looking for the phones, the assistant running over with the crew list, the boys trying to defend me helplessly. God, I should have never come here. How stupid was I? I didn’t belong here, and yet I’d let myself believe that there would be no consequences. And I’d even lost the belongings of my friends in the process.

Useless. Useless, useless, useless.

“Ah, producer-nim, the phones are over here! Looks like one of the crew moved them so they could bring some lighting through here!” Someone called out. A rush of relief hit me. I’d still messed up, but at least they didn’t have to pay for it. 

“See? She didn’t mean for it to happen. There’s no need to keep interrogating her.” Jay chimed. His smile was disarming, placating, but there was a sort of edge to his voice. The producer scoffed and took the list of employees from his assistant.

“That’s not what this is about any more. I make a point to learn who I employ, and I do not recognize- aha!” He cut himself off and turned the paper around to face me. His finger pulled down the list, down all of the names, and somehow in all of that entire list…

There was nobody named Haneul. 

I paled, body locking up. Things blurred around me. All of a sudden, there were hands on my arms. Security, I realized dimly. They weren’t wasting any time dragging me from the premises, and my feet skittered over the ground as I stumbled along with them. I winced as their grip sunk in, and then winced even further when the guard’s grip slipped off. A pale hand had intervened, grabbing at the hand on my right shoulder and pulling it away sharply. Those same hands shifted to my biceps and I was pulled backwards, shifted around gently to be positioned behind someone’s shoulders. 

Sunghoon, I registered. His shoulders were set, angled in front of me, body tense. “Don’t touch her like that.” His voice wasn’t aggressive, a stark contrast to the way his body language registered in my mind. 

But maybe that was just my stress talking…

No, his voice was quiet and final, a tinge of something I couldn’t quite put a name to without seeing his expression just below it. I blinked, staring past his shoulder. In the commotion I’d been numb to, somehow Riki and Heeseung had crowded around the guard. I could only see Riki’s face from this angle, and it had me slightly confused. What was that look in his eyes? That indignation, like the guard had done some sin or wronged him to some great extent. Jungwon and Jay were off to the side saying something to the producer. Jungwon seemed serious, serious to an extent I hadn’t seen him, and Jay? He hovered behind Jungwon’s shoulder, occasionally chiming in with some short, choppy words that illustrated exactly how upset he was. 

God, everything felt like it was ringing, that anxiety spike finally crashing right back down. Sunoo and Jake were there to catch me, their hands fleeting as they asked if I was alright or needed anything. Jake tugged my mask down so he could get a better look at me, and Sunoo’s arms twitched about like he wanted to hug me but was unsure with all that was going on around us. I mumbled something I didn’t quite remember, probably reassuring them.

Sunghoon stood like a barrier, wide shoulders and more bulky frame a strange sort of comfort. But even that comfort couldn’t stop the guilt and worry that washed over me when I heard Sunoo murmur something to Jake.

“We’re going to have to sort this out with management now, won’t we?”

[thisissirius]

my dear siri, I would love a fic based on “I’m worried about you” please and thank you

your wish is my command. for you to improve the mood :)

man this should be fifty thousand words longer but have some mack and robert emotions :D

Mack is pretty sure this is gonna bite him in the ass.  “Hasn’t changed much.” “Not sure it ever does,” Mack agrees.  Tommy Merrick looks over the houses, the pub, with a passive expression. He has a casual demeanour, but Mack’s known him long enough to detect the thrum of nervousness underneath. It’s a sight to see on someone pushing fifty. Haven’t you seen everything by then? “I was four the last time I was here.” Mack whistles. “Yeah, things have definitely changed, mate.” There’s a slam of a door and then Robert storms out of Vic’s house, face of thunder. Mack doesn’t know what his problem is–it’s not like he hasn’t left Mack in the middle of nowhere before. “Oi!” Mack winces. “Hi, Robert.” “Don’t ‘Hi Robert’ me, asshole. You left me by the side of the road and–Tommy?” Robert’s anger deflates as he sees the figure standing to Mack’s right. He looks confused and, Mack thinks, a little off-kilter.  “Hi Rob,” Tommy says, lips quirking into a smile. “Been a long time.” Robert just stares.  “Oi,” Mack says, nudging him. “Say something yeah?” That seems to propel Robert into movement, and he grabs Mack’s sleeve, hauls him away from Tommy far enough they can talk without being overheard.  “Where did you find him?” “I know him. He called me when he found out I was in Emmerdale–asked if I knew you.” Robert mutters something under his breath, peering over Mack’s shoulder at Tommy.  “Rob,” Mack says slowly, “He isn’t here to cause trouble.” “You do enough of that for me,” Robert says, half under his breath. He narrows his eyes. “Why is he here then?” Mack scratches at his neck. “Well I might have said something about John.”

Robert rubs at his face. “Why?”

“I’m worried about you,” Mack admits. “Since the roofie thing, the way you and he interact–I don’t like him either, but the way he looks at you, well, he’s bad news. We both know it. Figured you could use every person in your corner I can find.”

The expression on Robert’s face is one of shock, confusion. Mack wants to punch everyone who’s put it there, though that might also mean punching Aaron, which would be a shit show all around. “He doesn’t know me.”

“You spent four years living in his house,” Mack points out.

“Then stole half his money and ran off,” Rob admits, self-deprecating smile in place. 

Tommy snorts from where he’s sidled closer. “I don’t care about the money, Rob. Just that you’re doing well.”

“You’re about ten years too late,” Robert says. “Could have done with those well wishes in prison.”

Mack sighs. “Rob.”

“What? Just figured we should all be on the same page about the kind of person I am,” Robert says, and it doesn’t carry the anger Mack’s been told to get used to–just bitterness. 

“Murder, assault, almost going on the run,” Tommy lists off. At Robert’s expression, he sighs. “I’m sure there’s a ton of other things I’m forgetting, but I’m still not leaving.”

Robert opens his mouth to respond when he sees a couple of other people on the street, and even Vic’s poked her head out of the house. “Come on. I’ll take you back to the Mill. I’d rather catch up,” his expression twists, “without anyone else overhearing.”

Tommy seems only too willing, though he adds, “Ashamed of me?”

“Don’t be daft,” Robert says, too quickly to be a lie. “I don’t really have a lot of fans right now and I’d rather avoid you being told to leave me alone, or take me with you when you leave.”

A dark expression crosses Tommy’s face when he looks at Mack, who shrugs. “I told you.”

“Told him what?”

“I’ll tell you about it in the–Mill?”

Rob nods, though he looks between Mack and Tommy. Finally, he relents, narrowing his eyes at Mack. “We’re talking about this later,” he warns.

Mack shrugs. “Sure. Whatever you want.”

Rob mutters under his breath, probably cursing Mack’s father, which is fine. It’s not like Mack hasn’t done the same. 

“Who’s that, then?” 

Aaron’s drifted out of the pub, hands in his pockets, and nods at Tommy. 

“Rob’s brother.” At Aaron’s expression, Mack grins. “Yeah, another one. Thankfully, not a drop of Jack Sugden’s blood in him.”

Aaron doesn’t seem to know what to say. 

Mack leaves him to it. He pulls out his phone, bringing up Sandy’s number. Might as well see how she’s doing while he’s at it. 

<3<3