#Predictive Success Rate

[baaldigital]

Thunderbolts of the Gods!

[lighthouseas]

buddie is going to go canon next year, btw. you can fight me on this but i know i'm right and i'm sosooso happy about it

[plague-of-insomnia]

why does 90% of anti art look the same, stylistically?

🤔

[princescar]

Thinking about the UTDP scene where Junko does fortune telling for a festival

Thinking about Ult Titles

Hm..

[reasonsforhope]

"A medical technology company in Australia is aiming for a world-first: it wants to launch a blood test for endometriosis (sometimes called 'endo' for short) within the first half of this year [2025].

In a recent peer-reviewed trial, its novel test proved 99.7 percent accurate at distinguishing severe cases of endometriosis from patients without the disease but with similar symptoms.

Even in the early stages of the disease, when blood markers may be harder to pick out, the test's accuracy remained over 85 percent.

The company behind the patent, Proteomics International, says it is currently adapting the method "for use in a clinical environment," with a target launch date in Australia for the second quarter of this year [2025].

The test is called PromarkerEndo.

"This advancement marks a significant step toward non-invasive, personalized care for a condition that has long been underserved by current medical approaches," managing director of Proteomics International Richard Lipscombe said in a press release from December 30.

Endometriosis is a common inflammatory disease that occurs when tissue similar to the lining of the uterus grows in other parts of the body, forming lesions. The disease can be very painful, and yet the average patient often suffers debilitating symptoms for up to seven years before they are properly diagnosed.

While there are numerous reasons for such a long delay, symptoms of endometriosis are often highly variable, unpredictable, difficult to measure or describe, and dismissed or overlooked by doctors.

Today, the only definitive way to diagnose endometriosis is via keyhole surgery called a laparoscopy, which is expensive, invasive, and carries risks.

Proteomics International is hoping to change that.

In collaboration with researchers at the University of Melbourne and the Royal Women's Hospital, the company compared the bloodwork data from 749 participants of mostly European descent.

Some had endometriosis and others had symptoms that were similar to endo but without the lesions. All participants had a laparoscopy to confirm the presence or absence of the disease.

Sifting through the bloodwork, researchers ran several different algorithms to figure out which proteins in the blood were best at predicting endometriosis of varying stages.

Building on previous research, a panel of 10 proteins showed a "clear association" with endometriosis.

For years now, scientists have investigated possible blood biomarkers of endometriosis to see if they could differentiate between those who have endo and those who do not. Similar to cancerous tumors, endo lesions can establish their own blood supply, and if cervical cancer can be diagnosed via a blood test, it seemed possible that endometriosis could be, too...

Proteomics International claims patents for PromarkerEndo are "pending in all major jurisdictions," starting first in Australia.

It remains to be seen if the company's blood test lives up to the hype and is approved by the Australian Therapeutic Goods Administration (TGA). But that's not outside the realm of possibility.

In November of 2023, some researchers predicted that a "reliable non-invasive biomarker for endometriosis is highly likely in the coming years."

Perhaps this is the year."

-via ScienceAlert, January 9, 2025

--

Note: As someone with endometriosis, let me say that this is a HUGE deal. The condition is incredibly common, incredibly understudied, and incredibly often dismissed. Massive sexism at work here.

I got very lucky and got diagnosed after about 6 months of chronic pain (and extra extra lucky, because my pain went away with medication). But as the article says, the average time to diagnosis is seven years.

Being able to confirm endometriosis diagnoses/rates without invasive surgery will also lead to huge progress in studying/creating treatments for endo.

And fyi: If you have a period that is so painful that you can't stand up, or have to go home from school/work, or vomit, or anything else debilitating (or if any of those things apply if you forget to take pain meds), that is NOT NORMAL, and you should talk to a competent gynecologist asap.

[too-antigonish]

Gävlebocken! It's time!!!!!!

What are the chances? Since 1966 only 16 goats have survived completely intact. More often than not, the goat has been set on fire—lately by increasingly nefarious and/or ridiculous means. It has also been tipped over, hit by cars, kicked to pieces, stolen, etc.

What constitutes success? It has to make it from today until January 2nd (the first weekday after New Year).

My stance on the goat: Technically, I'm firmly pro-goat. I like to root for the underdog. I also once watched a documentary (Christmas Begins in Gävle) about the ten guys who build this thing every year and I'm a sucker for a sob story. On the other hand...you can't make this stuff up!

Last year's goat: Eaten by jackdaws! The straw used to construct the goat contained an unusually high percentage of seeds which attracted the birds. The goat was consumed at an alarming rate.

The Fate of the Goat Year-by-Year:

Laconic "We Do Not Glorify Goat Violence" Swedish Version

Detailed Everything That Could Ever Possibly Go Wrong with a Goat Wiki Version

This year's predictions:

According to the official Gävlebocken FAQ:

Question: Does the straw harvest look more promising than last year? Answer: Yes, the straw harvest looks good this year! Question: What other potential measures do you have to prevent the birds from eating the goat? Answer: Given that the straw looks good this year with long stems, good quality, and no seeds (as far as we know), we hope that any bird visits won't cause as much damage this year. Question: Already last year, bird experts stated in the media that the jackdaws would likely return. Have you consulted bird experts in preparation for the upcoming season? Answer: "We know the straw is of better quality this year. If the jackdaws return, we will monitor the situation and address it accordingly."

[mariacallous]

With vaccination rates among US kindergarteners steadily declining in recent years and Secretary of Health and Human Services Robert F. Kennedy Jr. vowing to reexamine the childhood vaccination schedule, measles and other previously eliminated infectious diseases could become more common. A new analysis published today by epidemiologists at Stanford University attempts to quantify those impacts.

Using a computer model, the authors found that with current state-level vaccination rates, measles could reestablish itself and become consistently present in the United States in the next two decades. Their model predicted this outcome in 83 percent of simulations. If current vaccination rates stay the same, the model estimated that the US could see more than 850,000 cases, 170,000 hospitalizations, and 2,500 deaths over the next 25 years. The results appear in the Journal of the American Medical Association.

“I don’t see this as speculative. It is a modeling exercise, but it’s based on good numbers,” says Jeffrey Griffiths, professor of public health and community medicine at Tufts University School of Medicine in Boston, who was not involved in the study. “The big point is that measles is very likely to become endemic quickly if we continue in this way.”

The United States declared measles eliminated in 2000 after decades of successful vaccination campaigns. Elimination means there has been no chain of disease transmission inside a country lasting longer than 12 months. The current measles outbreak in Texas, however, could put that status at risk. With more than 600 cases, 64 hospitalizations, and two deaths, it’s the largest outbreak the state has seen since 1992, when 990 cases were linked to a single outbreak. Nationally, the US has seen 800 cases of measles so far in 2025, the most since 2019. Last year, there were 285 cases.

“We’re really at a point where we should be trying to increase vaccination as much as possible,” says Mathew Kiang, assistant professor of epidemiology and population health at Stanford University and one of the authors of the paper.

Childhood vaccination in the US has been on a downward trend. Data collected by the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention from state and local vaccination programs found that from the 2019–2020 school year to the 2022–2023 school year, coverage among kindergartners with state-required vaccinations declined from 95 percent to approximately 93 percent. Those vaccines included MMR (measles, mumps, and rubella), DTaP (diphtheria, tetanus, and acellular pertussis), polio, and chickenpox.

In the current study, Kiang and his colleagues modeled each state separately, taking into account their vaccination rates, which ranged from 88 percent to 96 percent for measles, 78 percent to 91 percent for diphtheria, and 90 percent to 97 percent for the polio vaccine. Other variables included demographics of the population, vaccine efficacy, risk of disease importation, typical duration of the infection, the time between exposure and being able to spread the disease, and the contagiousness of the disease, also known as the basic reproduction number. Measles is highly contagious, with one person on average being able to infect 12 to 18 people. The researchers used 12 as the basic reproduction number in their study.

Under a scenario with a 10 percent decline in measles vaccination, the model estimates 11.1 million cases of measles over the next 25 years, while a 5 percent increase in the vaccination rate would result in just 5,800 cases in that same time period.

In addition to measles, the authors used their model to assess the risk of rubella, polio, and diphtheria. The researchers chose these four diseases for their infectiousness and risk of severe complications. While sporadic cases of these diseases do occur and are usually related to international travel, they are no longer endemic in the US, meaning they no longer regularly occur.

The model predicted that rubella, polio, and diphtheria are unlikely to become endemic under current levels of vaccination. Rubella and polio have a basic reproduction number of four, while diphtheria’s is less than three. In 81 percent of simulations, vaccination rates would need to fall by around 35 percent for rubella to become endemic in the next 25 years. Polio, meanwhile, had a 50 percent chance of becoming endemic if vaccination rates dropped 40 percent. Diphtheria was the least likely disease to become reestablished.

“Any of these diseases, under the right conditions, could come back,” says coauthor Nathan Lo, a Stanford physician and assistant professor of infectious diseases.

To evaluate the validity of the model, the researchers ran a scenario with recent state-level vaccine coverage rates over a five-year period and found that the number of model-predicted cases broadly aligned with the number of observed cases in those years. The authors also found that Texas was at the highest risk for measles.

One limitation of the study was that the model assumed that vaccination rates were the same across all communities within a state. It didn’t take into account large variations in vaccination levels. Pockets of low vaccination rates, like in the Mennonite community at the center of the West Texas outbreak, would likely lead to local outbreaks that are larger than expected given the overall vaccination rate.

The study also didn’t take into account the possibility that vaccination rates could rebound in an area in response to an outbreak. “That’s the thing that we have control over. If you’re able to change that cycle, then that disease won’t spread anymore,” says Mujeeb Basit, associate chief of the Clinical Informatics Center at UT Southwestern Medical Center, who wasn’t involved in the study.

Kiang and Lo say the full impact of decreased vaccination will likely not be seen for decades. “It’s important to note that it’s totally feasible that vaccinations go down and nothing happens for a little while. That’s actually what the model says,” Kiang says. “But eventually, these things are going to catch up to us.”

[nyxs2]

Ma Meilleure Ennemie (pt 2/?)

Do you know what the main problem with addiction is? It's that it always demands more. And unfortunately for you, Silco was an addicted man.

Silco x fem!Reader

Rating: Explicit (18+, MDNI)

Word Count: 5,2K

Warnings: smut, resolved sexual tension, oral sex (f!receiving), dirty talk, orgasm edging, overstimulation, you work in the brothel, Silco POV (when to start smut), Silco being the little control freak that he is. Set before the events of Act 2 of the first season of Arcane.

Part 1

Okay, I didn't expect the previous chapter to be so successful, so thank you to everyone who read it. Just a few warnings: Silco's actions can be quite controversial (you'll understand at the end), he's an antagonistic character and we have to recognize that he's not a saint. If you came here expecting something like "love at first sight", I'm sorry to tell you that there's going to be a long road to that. Remember, there's a fine line between love and obsession.

The month had flown by too quickly, and you barely noticed Silco's absence from the brothel. Since that night, he seemed to have vanished, and the days resumed their usual rhythm. With the generous bonus he had left, you managed to cut back on your workload, bringing a sliver of relief to your otherwise exhausting routine. Today was one of those calmer days. Your last session hadn't been physical; your regular client, Kate, a young woman with stunning green eyes, just wanted to talk.

You spent the time discussing her recent achievements. She had been clean from shimmer for three months and, with visible excitement, shared her plans to become a designer. She had even landed an internship at a boutique in Piltover. Despite being a paying client, your relationship with her felt closer to a friendship. You genuinely cared about her progress and rooted for her, even though you knew the harsh world of Piltover could extinguish the dreams of Zaunites as easily as a gust of wind snuffing out a candle.

The brothel had this misunderstood duality. It wasn't just a place of pleasure and debauchery, as many thought, but also a refuge for the lonely, even if those moments were as rare as fresh air in Zaun.

After the session, you sat at the vanity in the dressing room, touching up your makeup. It was a moment of pause, preparing to finally leave for the night. That's when hurried, hesitant footsteps reached your ears. Through the mirror, you saw Babette enter, her yordle face pale as if she'd seen a ghost.

"What's wrong, Babette?" you asked, frowning.

"He's back," she said in a hurried whisper, and you froze. There was no need to specify who. His name hung like a curse that no one dared to utter. "And he asked for you... in the same room."

A sigh escaped your lips as you nodded, trying to mask the storm brewing inside you. Your body moved automatically, brushing past a Babette who looked almost regretful on your behalf.

The conflicting sensations within you were hard to define—a mix of nerves and something akin to excitement. Part of you was eager to see him again, while another feared what this meeting might bring. It was a wave that swung between the warmth of reunion and the chill of apprehension. It was impossible to predict Silco's intentions with you.

Yet, despite the uncertainty, a part of you relished the idea of facing him again.

The curtains parted just as they had during your first meeting, and you stepped into the room with hesitant steps—but firm enough to mask the storm raging within you. There he was, Silco, seated on the sofa like he owned the world—or at least your little corner of chaos. This time, a cigar rested between his fingers, its smoke spiraling lazily toward the ceiling. A bottle of amber liquor and two glasses were set before him on the table.

You raised an eyebrow, crossing your arms as you regarded him, trying to keep your expression impassive. "Miss me?" The provocation slipped out in an almost sweet tone, but the mockery woven into the edges of your words was there for anyone sharp enough to catch. And, of course, he did.

His eyes lifted to meet yours, and the smile that formed on his lips was... unsettling. A slow, predatory smile that made your entire body tense, unsure whether to prepare for a fight or flight. But running from Silco was never really an option, was it?

"Miss you?" he repeated, his voice low, almost a dangerous purr, as he brought the cigar to his lips and took a long drag. The smoke escaped in a deliberate exhale as he leaned back even further into the sofa. "I've been rather busy, dove. Running a city isn't exactly a part-time job."

His voice carried an intensity that seemed to cut through your skin and lodge itself directly in your nerves. His eyes were a weapon all their own, assessing you with clinical precision as though he could decode every emotion you tried to hide. Frustration? Undoubtedly. Curiosity? Perhaps. And something else... something you refused to name but which made your stomach churn and your breath quicken.

"Ah, of course... I forgot you rule Zaun. I thought it was just a hobby of yours." The words left your mouth dripping with sarcasm, a smirk tugging at your lips. You knew exactly how to provoke him, even if it meant walking a tightrope with Silco.

But he laughed. Not a short or biting laugh, but a rich, full chuckle that echoed through the cramped walls of the room. His reaction was almost disconcerting, as if he were genuinely amused by your defiance.

"I prefer to think of it as a calling. Someone has to keep these streets in line, after all," Silco retorted, bringing the cigar back to his lips and taking a deep drag. "Drink with me." He gestured casually toward the empty glass beside his with a flick of his hand, as if this were the most normal thing in the world—as if he hadn't disappeared for an entire month and was now acting as though nothing had happened.

You blinked once, twice, frowning at his offer. Surprised was an understatement. Even so, your feet carried you to the sofa, where you sat down beside Silco. Your gaze drifted to the glass placed in front of you, but you made no move to pick it up.

"Drink something from you? I thought I'd made it clear I'm not naive." Your voice was sharp, cutting, and you made no effort to hide what you thought. The accusation lingered in the air, but Silco seemed unfazed. On the contrary, the smile on his lips deepened, as though your suspicion was yet another point in his favor.

"Relax, dove." He set the cigar in the ashtray and leaned forward slightly, his eyes fixed on yours. "I may be many things, but I'm not the type to drug my... companions. I prefer them fully aware of what's happening."

Before you could respond, you felt his hand rest on your thigh, his fingers drawing lazy circles over the fabric of your skirt. The touch was too light to be casual but confident enough to show he knew exactly what he was doing.

"Besides," he continued, leaning in a little closer, "I don't need tricks. You came to me willingly last time, remember? And I'm certain you'll do the same again."

You held your breath for a moment—not out of fear but from the tension building in the air. It had been mere minutes, and already you were spiraling into this dangerous, sexual dance. When he reached for the bottle and poured two glasses, the sound of the amber liquid filling the glass seemed to fill the charged space between you. He slid one of the glasses in your direction, his fingers brushing against yours briefly, and that fleeting touch was like a surge of heat, reigniting memories you'd rather not dwell on now.

The cold glass against your fingers was solid, tangible, but the same couldn't be said for Silco's intentions. Swirling the liquid in the glass, you watched its viscosity under the light, searching for any sign of hidden betrayal. You brought the glass to your nose, inhaling deeply. Nothing unusual. No suspicious scent. Just the strong, familiar aroma of an expensive drink.

"Now, don't be rude. It's a rare vintage, and I insist," he said, his voice dropping a few tones, more of a command than an invitation. "Or are you afraid you can't handle me after a drink?"

He raised his own glass to his lips, his eyes never leaving yours, taking a long sip and savoring the warmth the liquor seemed to bring. He was testing you, and you knew it.

"Oh... I can handle more than you think." You let the double meaning linger in the air, noting how quickly Silco caught on from the faint curl at the corner of his mouth. Then, your gaze shifted back to the drink in your hands.

A sigh escaped internally. Damn it. Against all your instincts, you decided to trust him—at least this once. Bringing the glass to your lips, you took a small sip.

The flavor was unexpected, complex. First, a gentle warmth spread across your tongue and slid down your throat, followed by a hint of sweetness that balanced the burn. You licked your lips, savoring the woody notes mingling with a subtle touch of caramel. It was... different. Something you'd never tasted before.

You almost let out a surprised sigh but managed to hold it back. However, you knew your expression had betrayed you. Worse still, you were certain Silco had noticed. His sharp gaze seemed to miss nothing, and he'd been watching you the entire time. Quickly recovering, you masked your face with indifference, though the effort felt pointless. Pretending nothing affected you had always been one of your sharpest weapons for surviving life in Zaun, but it seemed to fail irritatingly often when it came to him.

"So, tell me..." Silco resumed the conversation, his tone adopting a casual air, as if you were merely chatting. "What have you been up to while I've been away? I hope you haven't been entertaining any other clients in my absence."

"Well," you began, leaning back on the sofa, mimicking his casual tone while swirling the glass in your fingers, watching the liquid sway with the motion. "As far as I know, we're not exclusive."

You let your words hang in the air for a moment before taking another sip of your drink. This time, you kept your eyes fixed on the glass, pretending Silco's presence was just a shadow at the edge of your awareness. "So yes, I've been with other clients."

When you finally lifted your gaze, you met his eyes. They glimmered with something between amusement and danger, and the smile you offered Silco was anything but innocent. You knew you were playing with fire by provoking him so openly without any idea how he might react, but as the damned gambler you were, you could never resist a risky game—even if it meant losing your winning hand.

"Why?" you asked, your voice dripping with audacity as you calmly placed your now-empty glass on the table. "Are you jealous?"

"Jealous? No, I wouldn't say that." He paused, taking a slow, deliberate sip from his drink. "More like... protective. You see, dove, once I set my sights on something, I have a hard time sharing."

He set his glass down on the table with a faint but deliberate thud of glass against wood. You had pressed his buttons, that much was clear, but he didn't seem annoyed by your bratty attitude.

Silco settled back into the sofa, mirroring your posture, but with an air of authority that seemed to dominate the room. He leaned back slightly, his legs spreading just enough to make a point, the motion causing his coat to fall open. The glimpse of what looked like a holster at his hip seemed accidental—perhaps he didn't even remember carrying it. It was as natural to him as breathing.

He turned to you, his hand moving to your chin, tilting your face so your eyes would meet his. "But I'm a reasonable man," he continued, his tone soft, almost comforting, yet carrying an intensity that made your skin prickle. "I understand the nature of our... arrangement. You're a courtesan, and I'm merely a client. Nothing more, nothing less."

His thumb brushed against your lower lip, the touch as light as a feather, teasing. "Which is why I think it's time we renegotiate the terms, don't you?" His voice dropped a few tones lower. "I'm willing to pay for your exclusive services."

You couldn't deny the tension rippling through your body as Silco leaned in further, narrowing the space between you until his presence felt like the only thing that existed in your world. His touch on your chin was firm but not rough, a silent reminder of the absolute control he maintained over himself—and, in some ways, over you.

You allowed him to guide your face upward, a silent concession that you were willing to play along—at least within the rules that suited you.

His eyes were both an invitation and a threat, a contrast that should have been intimidating. But, to your surprise, you felt something else entirely.

It wasn't fear.

It was pride.

There was an unexpected, almost visceral pride within you, knowing that he wanted you—and made no effort to hide it. It was both unsettling and... perversely satisfying.

When Silco moved again toward you, the motion caused his coat to fall open further, fully revealing the holster strapped to his hip. The metallic gleam of the pistol's barrel caught the dim light, and your eyes lingered on it for a moment. The sight evoked a disconcerting mix of emotions: fear and excitement, battling for dominance within you.

You knew the gun wasn't there merely for protection. It was a silent statement, a symbol of power—and also of control. Silco didn't make empty threats, and the presence of that weapon made it abundantly clear. So classic, so predictable, you thought, though you couldn't deny there was something undeniably alluring about the image: danger so blatant yet so meticulously restrained.

That contrast was almost suffocating. The implicit threat of the weapon combined with the soft, almost intimate tone of his voice stirred something deep within you. It was a brutal reminder of the risks of being this close to him, but also irrefutable proof of the kind of power he wielded—not just physical but psychological.

This is not good, you told yourself, suppressing a shiver that could have been apprehension—or excitement. You knew how dangerous it would be to let Silco see you as his. The words you had spoken the last time you met applied to him perfectly, and to your misfortune, Silco was possessive by nature, his ambition only amplifying that trait.

But it was too late to turn back. You had already captured his attention once, and here he was again, returning to your arms like an addict seeking his next fix. And it was clear he wouldn't stop until he had you entirely.

"This negotiation..." you began, your voice lower, tinged with something that could have been scorn or desire, even you couldn't tell. "Isn't open."

The silence that followed was heavy, every word hanging in the air like a scale about to tip. There was refusal in your voice, but despite your efforts, there was also a trace of something else... something that could easily be mistaken for lust. And his gaze caught every nuance of it.

Slowly, your eyes drifted from his to his lips, but not before letting him see the small detour they took back to the pistol. As though you were weighing your options, calculating the risks, even though you knew all of them ended with him.

It was like walking a tightrope over an abyss, and both ends led directly to Silco. Two different fates, equally perilous.

"But," you continued, and your voice was almost a whisper now, deliberately laden with heat. Your mind screamed at you to stop, but the words had already taken shape. "You can try to convince me." It was a dangerous strategy, and Silco was toxic in every sense. But just like an addict depended on their drug, perhaps you could turn that dependence into an advantage for yourself.

Silco's eyes darkened, a fierce hunger burning within them as your defiant words left your lips. A low growl reverberated in his chest, heavy with intensity. He noticed the way your gaze roamed over him, like a flame consuming everything in its path. He also noticed—with dangerous satisfaction—the subtle quickening of your pulse, visible in the delicate line of your neck.

You were playing with fire, and Silco was more than willing to let you burn.

Before you could react, he moved with the swiftness of a serpent, pinning you against the couch. In one fluid motion, he seized control, trapping you beneath the weight of his body. His hands captured your wrists with firm precision, raising them above your head as he positioned himself between your thighs.

His hips pressed against yours, a slow and deliberate motion laden with intent. Your body acted before your mind could comprehend, arching to meet the contact.

"Oh, dove..." he murmured, his voice low and rough, each word caressing your skin like silk. His lips hovered near your throat, and you felt the warmth of his breath against the exposed skin. "I intend to convince you, and I think you'll find I'm quite... persuasive."

His lips found the curve of your neck, skimming over your skin with a dangerous blend of gentleness and possessiveness. When his teeth grazed your flesh, they didn't break the surface, but the implicit promise in every touch made your heart race. You knew he could, and you also knew you wouldn't fight him.

The control he exerted over you was intoxicating, but it wasn't just physical. There was something about the way he read you, how every sigh, every tremor of your body seemed to fuel him.

When his fingers released your wrists, you didn't move your hands from where he had placed them, as if the freedom he had given you was an illusion. Instead, you closed your eyes, feeling his hands glide down your body, his fingers tracing an almost lazy path that ignited every nerve in your skin.

His fingers reached the curve of your waist, pausing just long enough to apply a slight squeeze—a possessive touch that sent a shiver down your spine. He followed the contour of your hips, his movements as subtle as they were provocative. Then, with a deliberate motion, he tugged the hem of your skirt upward, revealing your skin inch by inch, as if each bit was a gift to be uncovered. The air grew heavier, each second stretching into eternity.

"You have no idea what you make me feel," he murmured, his voice a mix of confession and temptation, perhaps more to himself than to you. "The things I want to do to you..."

His breathing grew uneven, heavier, and before you realized it, your thighs tightened around his hips, as if to hold him there, in that exact place where the world seemed to have stopped.

"Then do them," you murmured, your voice hoarse, barely a whisper. This moment was his. And somehow, it didn't feel wrong, even though part of you knew you might regret it later.

But right now, in this instant, regret was the furthest thing from your mind.

Silco's Pov ━━━━━━━༺༻━━━━━━━━

"Careful what you wish for, dove..."

Silco's eyes darkened with lust as he watched her writhe beneath him, her body arching into his touch as if she were starving for it. He could feel the heat of her core pressing against his cock, even through the layers of clothing that separated them, and it took every ounce of his self-control not to rip them off and bury himself inside her right then and there. To feel that warm feeling that had been trapped in his mind for that damn month of being away from her. But he held himself back, it wasn't about him this time, as he would have other opportunities. He wanted to savor every moment of her surrender, to engrave the memory of it in his mind for years to come.

Slowly, teasingly, he trailed his lips down the column of her neck, his tongue darting out to taste her skin before sucking on her pulse point, leaving a mark. Relishing the way she gasped and writhed beneath him, her hands finally moved to tangle in his hair.

He leaned back, standing erect with his gaze fixed on that which he now coveted. He hooked his fingers beneath the waistband of her panties and pulled them down her legs, exposing her to his hungry gaze. This was something he had wanted to do since their first meeting.

Silco settled between her thighs, his breath ghosting over her slick folds. He looked up at her through his lashes, his eyes glittering with dark promise. "Look at you, dove. So wet for me already... Such a needy little thing." he murmured before dipping his head and pressing a kiss to her clit.

He started slowly, his tongue lapping at her slit, savoring the taste of her arousal. He traced the seam of her lips, teasing her entrance before flicking his tongue over her clit, again and again, until she was writhing beneath him, her hands fisting in his hair.

He slid a finger inside her, then two, pumping them in and out of her tight heat, at first slowly. He curled them just so, searching for that special spot that would make her see stars. Silco felt her inner walls contract and vibrate around his fingers. He could tell she was getting close to her peak. Leaning down, he sealed his lips around her throbbing clit and sucked hard, flicking the sensitive nub quickly with the tip of his tongue.

At the same time, he pumped his fingers faster, rubbing mercilessly against that specific spot. Her thighs trembled and tensed on either side of his head as he took her right to the edge... then pulled back a little, wanting to prolong her torment a little longer before finally pushing her over the edge of blissful oblivion. He heard her whimper his name, her voice sounding tearful and frustrated. Then her little fingers tried to pull his face back into place between her thighs: "Easy, dove." He let his fingertip slide over her clit, circular motions that drove her to the edge, but weren't enough to give her what she wanted. "Silco..." her voice escaped in a hoarse moan, filled with a mixture of need and desperation. Sounding like a melody for Silco. "Say 'please' and I might let you cum." Silco's voice left no room for reply and this only made her even more frustrated. Her back arched and she tried again to pull Silco towards her. Her attempts failed. Silco then sped up the movement of her finger, noticing how easy it was to bring her to the edge again... and just as easy to slow down.

The second denied orgasm drew a reaction from her. "Please! Fuck.. I beg you... please!

He smirked as she begged so sweetly, the word "please" falling from her lips like a prayer. Oh, how he adored when she got like this - pride and poise cast aside in favor of raw, aching need. Silco was more than happy to oblige her, diving back in with renewed fervor. He savored the taste, groaning low in his throat as he feasted on her like a starving man, his fingers pumped steadily, curling just to brush that spot inside her. He felt her thighs clamp down around his head, heard her screaming his name as she came undone, her release flooding his mouth.

But Silco didn't stop. He kept going, riding her through her orgasm and straight into another, his tongue lashing at her sensitive flesh, his fingers pumping in and out of her clenching heat. He could feel her fighting it, her body tensing, trying to pull away from the too-much sensation, but he held her in place, determined to wring every last drop of pleasure from her.

He felt her come again, harder this time, her body convulsing beneath him, her hands fisting in his hair so tightly it bordered on pain. He swallowed every drop of her release, groaning at the taste of her, the feel of her coming apart for him.

Only when she went limp beneath him, her body spent and trembling, did Silco finally relent. He pulled back, licking his lips as he admired his handiwork - His sweet dove sprawled on the couch, her chest heaving, her skin flushed and glistening with sweat. She looked utterly debauched, and fuck if it wasn't the hottest thing he'd ever seen. A sight that had to be for his eyes only.

"Perfect." He whispered to the void as you seemed to be passed out. Nothing could take away his sense of pride in having reduced you to a limp body lying on the couch, although a part—the one deep inside him—was irritated by the mere idea that someone else could do the same to you. "We can't let that happen, don't you think?"

A rhetorical question to which he already had an answer.

━━━━━━━༺༻━━━━━━━━ 

You blacked out for a second. You'd like to say you lasted longer after the first, but that would be a blatant lie. With Silco consuming you completely—in presence, touch, scent, and the rough sound of his voice—it was impossible to resist. He pushed you to the edge once more, and when you finally fell, the orgasm that crashed over you was even more devastating than the first.

You collapsed onto your side, utterly boneless, as though every bone in your body had dissolved. The exhaustion was so overwhelming that the line between consciousness and unconsciousness blurred with each passing moment. Every muscle in your body screamed in surrender, yet you still found enough energy to let out a soft whimper as you adjusted your legs, trying to ease the discomfort.

Your body was in a state of hyperawareness. You could feel every little detail: the slow but persistent throbbing between your legs, the sensitive, swollen ache of your clit, both painful and pleasurable as the pressure of your thighs shifted.

The heavy silence of the room was broken only by the sound of your ragged, uneven breathing. Each breath felt like an effort, but you began to relax, letting your muscles go slack against the couch. And then you felt it.

His gaze.

Even with your eyes closed, you knew Silco was watching. It was impossible to ignore. Those eyes had the power to strip you bare, as though he could see beyond flesh, directly into what you tried to hide—vulnerability, desire, surrender.

Opening your eyes slowly, you blinked a few times, dislodging the tears that clung stubbornly to your lashes. Your lips curled into a trembling, tired but genuine smile as your gaze found his face. Silco didn't look away. His expression was unreadable, but there was something in his eyes—dangerous and tender all at once—that made you shift uncomfortably, even in your exhaustion.

"That was the first time..." you began, your voice breathless, your chest still rising and falling rapidly as you tried to catch your breath. "By Janna... twice in a row... How is that even possible?"

The words came out in an almost incredulous tone, with a hint of exhausted laughter. You didn't know how he did it, but it seemed Silco knew exactly what to do with your body. Where to touch, what to say, which buttons to press... absolutely everything.

"Give me a minute," you continued, your voice strained with fatigue. "I don't think I can do anything else right now. My body has officially shut down, and it's your fault."

Despite the exhaustion, there was a note of humor in your voice, something you knew he'd pick up on. But it was the truth. Every fiber of your being felt like it had been pushed to its limit, and for the first time in what felt like forever, you had no urge to fight it.

Silco leaned over you, brushing a damp strand of hair away from your face with a surprisingly gentle, almost reverent gesture. The touch was a stark contrast to the roughness of his calloused fingers. "Don't worry about me, dove," he murmured, his voice low and smooth, like a whispered melody in the darkness. "I'm more than satisfied with how the night turned out."

He then pressed a light kiss to the corner of your mouth. The fleeting touch was almost contradictory, an unspoken promise hidden behind the faint, teasing smile that played on his lips. "Now, catch your breath. Compose yourself."

He moved away with his usual natural elegance. As he adjusted his clothes, straightening his suit with meticulous care, smoothing out his trousers; taking more careful care of this part for obvious reasons, and running his fingers through his slightly disheveled hair, you watched him silently. He seemed lost in his own world as he tidied himself.

Silco then turned his attention back to you, extending a steady hand to help you sit properly on the couch. With surprising care, he adjusted your skirt, a gesture that felt almost chivalrous coming from the same man who had undone it in the first place. But what truly caught your attention was the way he picked up the garment he had removed from you earlier—your underwear—and slipped it into his trouser pocket without even attempting to hide the act.

You opened your mouth, perhaps to protest, but before you could utter a word, he had already shrugged off his jacket and draped it over your shoulders. The weight of the expensive fabric pressed against your skin, warm from his body heat, carrying his unmistakable scent: lingering tobacco, worn leather, and a metallic note that reminded you of burnt gunpowder or rust. It wasn't necessary—you knew that—but he seemed to relish the idea of covering you, marking the moment with a gesture that was as possessive as it was protective.

"In any case," he said, his voice taking on a teasing tone as his hand rested firmly on your shoulder, the touch deliberate, "You can return the favor next time."

"So that's your excuse to come back to this brothel?" you replied, your tone laced with sarcasm as one eyebrow arched slightly. A sly smile curved your lips as you looked at him. "How predictable, Silco..."

"Oh, I assure you, dove," he murmured, his voice laden with a dangerous softness that made every word sound like a promise. "It's not the only reason I'll return. But, I must admit... it's a rather tempting incentive."

Yet, as he spoke those words, something shifted inside him. A dark and familiar shadow rose, staking its claim on his mind. Suddenly, Silco pulled back. His face, previously brimming with desire and mischief, turned into a mask of indifference.

"I need to go," he said abruptly, the tone of someone ending a conversation with no room for argument. "There's something I need to take care of."

And with that, without another word, he was gone.

Leaving you behind, confused, and his jacket.

[...]

The days following Silco's visit were a series of unsettling events. The changes came slowly, almost imperceptibly at first, but you had a knack for picking up on nuances. You were a survivor, and survival meant knowing when something was wrong before it became a bigger problem.

First, there were the furtive glances. Your colleagues at the brothel seemed to watch you with a mix of curiosity and apprehension. There were hushed whispers and abruptly interrupted conversations whenever you walked by. That wasn't new—gossip was as common as the smell of cheap perfume in that place. But this felt different now. Heavier. As if they knew something you didn't.

Then came the anonymous donation. A substantial amount of money, accompanied by a short and direct note, unsigned. Just three words: "For your comfort."

You found yourself staring at the note longer than you should have, the paper trembling slightly in your hands. The tone of the words seemed polite, even kind, but in context... there was no comfort in them. Only confirmation that someone was meddling in your life.

Finally—and perhaps most disturbingly—was the sudden drop in the number of clients. At first, you thought it was a coincidence, something seasonal. The brothel's clientele had its ups and downs, after all. But as the days went by, the reality became unmistakably clear.

The few men who still requested your company exhibited strange behaviors. Gone were the hungry gazes, the invasive touches. They were stiff, as if walking on eggshells, and most seemed incapable of relaxing in your presence. They didn't want closeness, avoided more intimate advances. Instead, they merely asked for your company, remained in an awkward silence while sitting far from you, and left far more money than necessary.

It was disconcerting. The break from routine, the absence of the predictable... it was almost worse than dealing with the unwanted touches you'd learned to ignore.

And then came the confirmation you didn't want. It arrived through a conversation you weren't invited to but overheard from the other side of a door: the men who had been appearing and specifically requesting you, were none other than subordinates of a certain chemical baron.

Silco. Part 3

[rose-maidenn]

Pick a card : Your 2025 , predictions based on each month

1-2

Hey guys how are you Happy New Year ＼(^-^)／ , I know I delayed a bit (^.^) for this one but hope you enjoy this , if you resonate like and reblog and gimme feedbacks cause that's what keeps me motivated to post 🫶🦢🩷✨️

If you do like my work and would want an in depth reading please check out my :

Masterlist

Paid readings

Pile 1 :

January

I see you starting the year kind of defeated by the previous year it was really hard and tiring for you and tested your faith a lot , you had to make hard choices, I see that you are stuck in a toxic situation or obsessing over something that doesn't serve you . I see that by middle of January it will get better , I do see turmoil in the start but breakthrough is near and it's for you . You will go out to picnics by the end , water bodies will help you , avoid fast food alrighty and make a vision board baby cause this is your year alright .

February

Like I said circumstances will improve I see a quick change of mood in February, is it your birth month ? Celebrations are around . You will feel protected in February things will feel sweeter . You will make a quick decision that will prove to be extremely beneficial for you this maybe about getting in a relationship or joining therapy as well . You might learn more about emotional regulation and heal your heart chakra . You will be grounded in your body and approach life with meaning .

March

There's stubborn energy in march , you are still Taking things slow and steady , the next chapter of your life is about freedom and not in the sense of travelling places alone but in a sense of freedom from other people's judgements and approval I see that you might have a rip off with someone or hear that someone is leaking information about you this might be a fire sign person who's jealous of you hermit for a while and then make a move , plan in silence and win.

April

Now that you have learned a minor lesson of detachment you have vigor and life again, you will seek new opportunities might get a new hobby as well maybe surfing or racing are you info F1 ? You will also get serious about studies some major exam is on the horizon. Nights in April are significant maybe you will do lot of late night studies or sneak out at night or night rides will make you so happy .

May

For may you are in a mood of enjoyment and happiness but remember to work hard there's tendency of you being too engrossed in enjoying that you forget that your labour is yet to be completed, focus on long term goals and possibilities. You might start visiting the temple more often. The person who was leaking info earlier is gonna miss you a lot in may they might even come back to talk ti you again but you're already done with them , you are in a mode of benevolence but yet you know your value well if they do disturb you too much do a cord cutting .

June

Now is the true time to enjoy your fruits of labour you had done in may , your success rate is high you're spiritually aware and emotionally well regulated, you will truly be happy I see reconciliation of someone you loved when you were young maybe a friend or teenage crush kinda vibe , through instagram or something. You are soaring high , your vibrations are too you're close to the sun and your thoughts will create your destiny so think positively.

July

July is also a positive fine with new opportunities and growth in the money sector of your life, if you have a new business idea or creative idea make sure that you invest in it , you will have more energy and vigor in this month but I see you being kind of lost if it's not well decided where you wanna move next so think before you leap work in the right direction and trust god . Also I see that a feminine figure most probably your aunt will get sick so take care of her if she's important to you.

August

August will focus on healing your old wounds , what have you ignored , if you do your healing well by doing shadow work you will get a breakthrough and live well by circumstance , might get a new house , I hear a moving house as well , you also might be s*xually active a lot during this time , Choose your partners wisely. This person might be an air sign . I see you might try to numb your pain but don't this healing will liberate you so choose this .

September

In September you're not giving a fuck about anyone , you're doing what you like how you like , leaving people and situations and praying a lot , I see some sadness about things left behind this could be stuff that didn't work out in business family or love , if it is the person mentioned in August then you can avoid the pain by being cautious and not attaching yourself by simple discernment I see 1111 , you can choose what you want to happen

October

October is literally like live through the pain moment 💀 I see a hike in finances but your mental health is detoriating you're staying alone , thinking too much and explaining too much , it's necessary that you give yourself a break here okay talk to a friend please please I beg because I see these great times for you which you may fail to recognize because you're too much in your head , it's really important to focus on you in October, mute the noise and focus on you . Eat dates , go to a date and save the date because you're a star.

November

Silent night holy night all is calm all is bright energy , this year Christmas is gonna be lit and you're preparing from November haha I see you getting advent calender ordering gifts for yourself and family . You're gonna be In a supernova mode excessive focus on your goals and you're like you will destroy anyone who will come in your way energy , you're protective and calm it's like you're a mafia boss observing your opponent and waiting for your minions to attack , lol you're gonna have fun in November a lot of funn.

December

December calls for a dark night of the soul heavy reflection on your year and the endings you have had this year , despite being scared you were strong and did what had to be done and you're proud of yourself by the middle of the month . I see you cooking a lot and going to shopping a lot mostly groceries you will be more confident and feel amazing in your body if you had a weight loss goal this year drumroll I see you meeting it . Love Love , you're doing great.

Pile 2 :

January :

Fire in your heart and clear vision is what you're going for in January , I see the circumstances might not be the most favourable but you're hopeful in the midst of a chaos, the happenings have made you instill a sense of balance within oneself and clear sight for what you truly want. You will be presented with a choice in January a choice of new life a new belief a new mindset and it will lead to great outcomes , I sense some modelling offer or working in corporate sector .

February:

The opportunities of January seem to be at full action in February you're more confident than ever , you're at eagle eye view towards the things that you want , your intuition is strong now you're observing the small details and working on them to correct them . Like posture, working on a project you really consider important. The advice is to lay on grass and watch the clouds it will give you comfort. Rest and relax and let universe prepare your auspicious way .

March :

Money is incoming in March, as March is actually the astrological new year I see that you will feel it more than the offers the weight of the time and you will look forward to everything, you're not afraid to work hard and you're really admired for those qualities. I see that you might have recovered from a breakup and now you're set on this path all over again , don't be scared the universe holds your hand , it won't set something in your path that you cannot handle.

April :

You will have ample resources in April to the point that you will become detached with money because you realise that there are much more things to life. You will be more spiritual and find fulfillment in your family and spend quality time with them , a kid maybe Born during this time or you might get pregnant so if you don't want that be safe . As for your love life I sense turbulence cause by old people so don't let the oldies in. Work on healing your sacral chakra in April.

May:

In May your love life seems great tbh , movie dates , colouring together , park dates etc a lot will be happening and it's nice to see . And I see in may you might become too detached with money you may feel drained so you catch up now , multiple investments Will be made by you . One of the sectors good for you will be wine , invest in a wine brewery or gold , both will work well. If you worship Lakshmi this is the month you get serious about her cause she's ready to bless you so so much .

June :

June is full of fun with friends but also a lot of endings due to arguments , make sure you more along with the right people and don't settle because in case you're you're moving with idiots they will exactly show you why they are an idiot , might make remarks on your body and make you feel insecure not recommended. I see your partner being supportive and helping you. Ground this June and wear red lipstick man it suits you so so much it drives your partner crazy .

July :

July is a state of recovery , some of you might have felt disconnected with your high-school friends so you seeked new friends or coworkers but this month you will understand that they love you so much and they're always here for you even if it seems hard at times . You will get flowers a lot , I see a guide being extremely protective about you will be an old spirit guide . If you're a saturnian Saturn will be kind to you and you will have the courage to face anything and everything. Your mindset is good .

August:

August is the month you fall in love with the aesthetic value of the things around you , you might go redecorating your entire room or house , tip you should get a gold vase it will be lucky for you I also see some hummingbird symbolism and bells definitely great for you . Your parents will come around and you will feel connected to them a lot. For some of you around this time you might get engaged . I hear San Paolo so omg excited for you .

September :

The energy is quite similar to August, you're just very very excited in September. Might get new shoes and watch old cartoons even do some repair work in your free time . Will come across a red car and would consider even buying a car. Spiritual advancement is also seen you might have started meditating in early July and September will be the month of effects heightened awareness seeks you now . Don't take any drugs okay I see some peer pressure coming in .

October :

444 on my time zone October will be a protected month or it could mean to up your protection game mann you need a sigil to help I do see a sigil it's circle kind of arrow like , kind of reminds me of the vikings. This pile also gives me Vasalisa vibes ( fairytale) . The fire of your heart burns greater than the fire around you're the tree of life and you're the disaster of it and rebuilding of it . Omg why am I writing this one so whimsically maybe that's how you feel very whimsical very witchy .

November :

You're gonna feel really cute first of all , drenched in kisses and you're gonna party Charli xcx style, your worries are lighter your heart is bigger tbh , attending concerts can be something you do or you might start liking a new artist I hear conan gray , suki Waterhouse tbh . A month of crafts as well , creating new things like bags and cards . You seem to be on a break from work in this month or just your work is comparatively easier so you're in a state of rest .

December :

You're in worship mode in December totally offerings and affirmations are your mantra . Your year was a total up down coaster man (*>∀<*) like it had a balance of everything fun and sadness but what remained consistent is the love , romantically this year will be better for you because you have learnt from your past relationship not to depend too much on your partner and it indeed is helping you keep this one and also your mental health . Take care love love to you.

Thanks for reading 🫶

[unusualtfs]

The Roommate Compatibility Program

this is my first time posting something like this to tumblr, hope it's an enjoyable read !

Arthur and Jimmy may have had the same last name, but that was the only thing they had in common.

Arthur Lee was, by all accounts, a nerd. When the Asian math major wasn’t dutifully taking notes on complex equations at his lectures or studying in silence at the library, he could usually be found holed up in his dorm, gaming until the wee hours of the morning. His only extracurricular activity to speak of was his weekly participation in the Chinese Student Union, if by “participation” one meant “sitting in the back of the room and not speaking to anyone.” His naturally pale skin was made even more so by a lack of sunlight, and his messy black hair resisted any attempt at styling. Short, shrimpy, and gay, he had clearly never seen the inside of a gym. In short, he was the exact opposite of his roommate.

Jimmy Lee was everything Arthur was not. Tall where Arthur was short, buff where Arthur was skinny, popular where Arthur was friendless. The straight white jock spent his days living out the all-American college fantasy — playing sports, pumping iron, and partying all night long. Of course, that hardly left any time for Jimmy to work toward his comms degree — but that hardly mattered, because everyone knew he was as dumb as a bag of rocks. His brutish Neanderthal features, extensive body hair, and blond buzz cut only added to that impression.

Maybe it would have been unrealistic to expect Arthur and Jimmy to be friends, but certainly no one could have anticipated the sheer antipathy that defined their roommate relationship. Arthur’s reasons for hating Jimmy were predictable — he was dumb, loud, and obnoxious; he left dirty clothes and sweaty exercise gear everywhere; and he stank up the dorm with his alpha musk. Jimmy equally couldn’t stand his prissy, prudish roommate. Arthur nagged him constantly, and he shot down all his invitations to work out or go out. Not to mention, he forbade Jimmy from getting laid while he was in the room, which was all the time. Nothing said unsexy like the presence of a judgmental Asian nerd hunched over his gaming PC at two in the morning.

Needless to say, it was not an ideal situation for anyone. So when a flier for the Roommate Compatibility Program was slipped under their door one evening, their interest was piqued.

Having issues with your roommate(s)? The Roommate Compatibility Program is here to help! Our trained experts use scientifically proven methods to ensure you and your roommate have a lifelong bond. 100% success rate, guaranteed!

In a rare moment of agreement for them, they decided they had nothing to lose.

That was how they found themselves entertaining a stranger in their dorm the next day. The man, who had introduced himself as “Mr. Thompson-Filipowski, from the RCP — but you can call me Mr. T.F. for short” had shown up out of the blue, giving them no time to prepare. So now they sat in their respective beds, answering Mr. T.F.’s questions as he appraised their living space thoughtfully. He wore a loud blue suit and had in hand a clipboard that he occasionally used to jot down notes, but otherwise he had no distinguishing features to speak of. Everything else about him, from his build to his skin tone to his hairstyle, was somehow impossible to pin down. He must have just had one of those faces.

“Thank you, boys,” he said after he was done interrogating them about their (lack of a) relationship. “I just have one more question for each of you before we can officially get started.” He turned to Jimmy first. “Jimmy, what would your ideal roommate be like?”

Jimmy had to think for quite a bit at that question. Finally, he responded in his vapid baritone: “Uh, I dunno… I guess he would just, like, be my bro.”

Mr. T.F. nodded, scribbling something on his clipboard. “Okay, excellent.” He turned to the Asian nerd next. “And Arthur, what about you?”

“My ideal roommate would be someone who’s, well, similar to me,” Arthur said, wincing at how his voice still cracked at every word. “Someone who shares my interests, and who I can spend time with, and… yeah.”

Mr. T.F. returned to his clipboard. “Right,” he said. “So, to summarize — Jimmy, you want your roommate to be your bro. And Arthur, you want your roommate to be similar to you. Is that correct?” There was a strange weight to his words, exuding the sense that something significant was carried within them, but Jimmy didn’t register this and Arthur thought it irrational, so both roommates ignored it. They nodded.

“Excellent!” Mr. T.F. said, the ominous presence now gone from his voice. “Okay, so often what we’ve found at the RCP is that roommate incompatibility is often a case of misapplied expectations. Often, our roommates do meet our expectations, you just need to keep an open mind about it. I’d wager you boys have much more in common than you think.”

Arthur rolled his eyes and Jimmy audibly scoffed at that, but they both kept listening anyway.

“For instance, looking around your dorm room, I can tell that both of you have a pretty similar fashion sense, wouldn’t you say?”

Arthur wanted to protest that all of the clothes strewn about belonged to Jimmy, not him, but the more he looked, the more he realized that wasn’t entirely true. That jersey on the floor definitely belonged to him, as did the baseball cap hanging from his bed and the sweaty white socks next to his desk. In fact, now that he thought about it, roughly half of the clothing he could see actually was his. Huh, he supposed he did dress similarly to Jimmy, then…

“I guess so,” Jimmy said as Arthur was distracted. “It’s hard to remember whose is whose sometimes because we dress the same and wear the same size, huhuh.”

As Jimmy spoke, his words became reality. He didn’t notice, but he shrunk down a few inches from his previously monstrous height until he was just under six feet — still respectable, but no longer anything more. Meanwhile, Arthur rose dramatically to meet him, until they stood at the exact same height. Since the two were equally small and shared the same taste in schlubby, sporty clothes, they essentially owned one wardrobe between them, borrowing and swapping constantly — although what looked tight and well-fitted on the muscular Ajimmy was loose and baggy on the lanky Jarthur. Curiously, the shirt Jarthur currently wore was the one item of clothing he wore that didn’t update itself to match his new reality; as such, it was now uncomfortably small on him.

Mr. T.F. continued, “And judging by the sports gear and gaming equipment in here, it looks like you also have similar interests, isn’t that right? Have you ever tried bonding over that?”

Again, it seemed Mr. T.F. was mistaken. Yes, their room indicated their respective interests in fitness and video games, but those interests were far from shared. Jarthur wanted to correct him, but then he had to reconsider. While he wasn’t into sports like Ajimmy, he certainly knew his way around them. He got as hyped as any other guy watching the Super Bowl, and he had fun whenever he was invited to play a quick game of basketball or soccer.

Meanwhile, Ajimmy was trying not to laugh at the implication that he liked video games. What did Mr. T.F. take him for, some nerd like Jarthur? But now that he thought about it… he did have fond memories of owning his bros with his mad gaming skills. He didn’t really want to call himself a gamer — he wasn’t into any of that anime or Nintendo kiddie shit. But Madden, CoD? Yeah, he fucked with those.

Imperceptibly, the dorm room shifted to match the roommates’ changing interests. Posters of popular players duplicated themselves from Ajimmy’s side of the room and pinned themselves into the wall above Jarthur’s bed. At the same time, the gaming computer vanished from Jarthur’s desk, swiftly replaced by a small TV between their beds. Well-used controllers popped into existence, one for each of them. The roommates themselves weren’t spared from the wave of changes, either. The tan leached out of Asjimm’s skin until he was quite pale, although not unhealthily so. Meanwhile, muscles made themselves known for the first time all across Joethur’s body. He was still lanky, but there was a definite sculptedness to his body that had never been there before, demonstrating his newfound appreciation of physical activity and straining his shirt even further.

“Yeah, all the time,” Joethur responded to Mr. T.F.’s questions. “I can destroy Asjimm at basketball in real life and in 2K,” he bragged.

“As if!” Asjimm retorted good-naturedly. “Next time, I’m kicking your ass, nerd!”

Joethur laughed. He may have had some problems with his roommate, but their shared competitiveness was not one of them.

“Ah, that’s lovely to hear,” Mr. T.F. said, checking a box on his clipboard. “The best way to become closer is to spend time together, after all. But that should be easy for you two — I’d imagine your class schedules are quite similar, since you’re in the same major.”

What was Mr. T.F. talking about? Joethur had never taken a comms class in his life, and Asjimm would certainly never be caught dead in a math classroom. But then Joethur went over his class schedule in his head again, and he realized that he did share most of his classes with his roommate. There was Accounting 101 on Mondays and Wednesdays, and Entrepreneurship every Thursday morning… In fact, aside from Joethur’s one math class and Asjimm’s lone comms class, their schedules were identical! But how could that be the case…?

“Well, I mean, yeah, I guess we do,” Asjimm said. His face twisted into a cocky smirk. “But just between you and me, it’s not like we bother to show up to class most of the time, right Joethyr?”

Everything suddenly snapped into place for Joethyr. Ausjim was right, of course — being a business major required confidence, charisma, and leadership skills more than anything else, and both Joethyr and Ausjim had that in spades. It certainly didn’t require studying or smarts, which was fortunate for Joethyr, as his brain was rapidly shrinking to match his meatheaded roommate’s. In fact, it was even smaller than Ausjim’s — he had scored highly enough in high school math that he was able to take an elective comms class for an easy A this semester, while Joethyr was being forced to struggle through calculus for a second time.

Records across campus rapidly rewrote themselves to reflect this new reality. Ausjim’s grades rose slightly, even as Joethyr’s GPA dropped from a 4.0 to a 2.0 — but whatever, C’s got degrees. In turn, the two roommates underwent their own changes. Joethyr’s unkempt hair retreated into his skull, leaving behind a slick fade. Moreover, the spark of intelligence retreated from his eyes, leaving them dark and hard. Ausjim’s hair experienced the opposite change, growing out into an impeccably groomed quiff that perfectly framed his face, neutralizing his unattractive Neanderthal features. His body hair also faded into nothingness, leaving him totally clean-shaven. The business classes he was taking had taught him the importance of presentation, after all.

“Yeah, bruh,” Joethyr agreed, now speaking in the same vacant timbre as Ausjim.

“Well, how do you boys spend your time then?” Mr. T.F. prompted. He was nearly at the bottom of his checklist — this far into the process, he didn’t even need to guide the roommates’ transformation. Their new personalities had largely subsumed who they used to be, and would be happy to fill the remaining gaps by themselves.

“Isn’t it obvious, bruh?” Ausjim said. “The gym — duh! Gotta get those gains!”

At his roommate’s proclamation, Joethy underwent a startling change. At last, his muscles ballooned all across his body until they were identical in size to Ausjim’s. No longer did he have to settle for merely toned — he was well and truly ripped. So dramatic was the change that his shirt was instantly torn apart, revealing his glorious pecs and washboard abs for the world to see. The Asian hunk subconsciously flexed as he thought about his answer to Mr. T.F.’s question, realizing something funny in the process.

“Hell, we probably even spend more time at the Chinese Student Union than class, right bruh?” Joethy nudged his equally jockish roommate.

The word “Chinese” resonated in Ausjin’s mind as he experienced sudden changes of his own. His lush hair was quickly thickening and inexorably staining itself midnight black. And as for the rest of his body, his lack of hair down there became much easier to maintain, as he naturally had less of it. Meanwhile, his facial features were shifting all at once — brow softening, nose broadening, eyes narrowing, lips plumpening. Eventually, they settled on what the rest of his body had already become — a carbon copy of his roommate.

“Yeah, bro, totally…”

At the word “bro,” the roommates’ final changes began. The physical refinements were over, but there was still work to do mentally. Ausjin’s brain was purged of the faces of his former family, their white features morphing into far more familiar Asian ones. Fond memories shifted as his mother’s famous meatloaf became her authentic dumpling recipe, and the destination of his childhood summer vacations was corrected from Europe to China. Through it all, he remained the dumb, popular jock he had always been. That was also true of Joethy, who could no longer remember being a lame, skinny nerd. Nights spent studying were replaced with nights spent partying, and members of an extensive social circle easily entered the parts of his brain that had never experienced true friendship. His memories of his family remained the same, however — with one key addition. The newcomer’s face was blurry, but the more that he focused on it, the more familiar it seemed. Almost like… his own face…? Or was it Ausjin’s face? That seemed closer, but… 

By Joethy’s side, Ausjin found his memories haunted by an identical face. The two jocks sat there in dumbfounded silence, both trying to recall who it was that featured so prominently in their memories. What was his name? Not Joethy or Ausjin, but rather… rather…

“Joey! Austin!”

Joey and Austin Lee snapped back to attention, refocusing on their strange guest.

Mr. T.F. chuckled, putting his clipboard away. “You boys zoned out there for a sec! It’s okay, I’ll get out of your hair soon. I just have one last question for you — are you getting along as roommates?”

“Well, of course we’re getting along, bruh!” Austin exclaimed.

“We’re basically the same person already!” Joey finished his twin’s sentence with a pure, dull guffaw.

Because it was true. Joey and Austin Lee were clearly cut from the same cloth: The identical twin Asian jocks were both brainless, buff, bisexual business-major bros. The only appreciable difference between the twins was their hairstyles. Austin fancied himself a pretty boy, spending hours by the mirror meticulously maintaining his gelled hair. Joey, meanwhile, rocked a utilitarian crew cut, confident enough to put his angelic face on full display. But other than that, they were totally inseparable — everything they did, from working out to gaming to partying, they did together. (Rumor had it that they even fucked together, only bringing a lucky girl or guy home when he or she was willing to share.)

“Great to hear that! Thanks for participating in our Roommate Compatibility Survey, you two — although I don’t know what results we were expecting from twins like you… Anyway, have a great one!” As Mr. T.F. exited the room, he allowed himself one last glance back at the Lee twins as they mindlessly bantered. Both of them had certainly gotten their wishes. Joey was exactly like Austin, and Austin was exactly like Joey, and they were certainly each other’s bros — in both senses of the word. Another success for the Roommate Compatibility Program.

As soon as the door clicked shut behind Mr. T.F., the Lee twins promptly forgot he had ever existed, returning to their existences as paragons of young Asian American masculinity.

“So, what’s the plan for today, bro?” Austin said. “Hit the gym, then hit the streets?”

Joey smirked, admiring himself and his twin in the mirror. “You know me so well, bro!”

[fans4wga]

'Why creatives are seeking residuals' - thread by Stefanie Williams

[Tweet thread by Stefanie Williams @/StefWilliams25

TRANSCRIPT:

Why creatives are seeking residuals vs. "do you pay the mattress maker every time you sleep on a mattress?" A thread. I keep hearing over and over again that writers/actors/creatives don't deserve residuals for the work they create. "If I build a bathroom in a house, I don't get paid every time someone uses the toilet."

TRUE! However, your bathroom build has a set market value. Art does not. No one knows what makes one TV show an overnight success, and another a flop. No one knows what makes one song a hit, and the other a dud. If they did, trust me when I say record companies would be churning out Taylor Swifts over and over again. Studios would be making nothing but Stranger Things.

But that isn't the case. No one could predict Stranger Things would be a massive, billion dollar hit. No one could predict Taylor Swift was going to be a world wide phenomenon who literally could record herself reading Aesop's Fables and make millions of dollars. Which is why residuals are important. The pay structure protects both the creators and the publishers/distributors.

The easiest way to explain it is by referencing an author writing a book. Sure, an author might get a very modest up front fee, but the author is banking on royalties to really make money on the book — for every book sold, the author gets a piece of the pie. This protects both the author and the publisher—because if the book is a flop, the publisher doesn't go broke on a financial promise they made to the author that didn't pan out, and if the book is a mega-hit, the author didn't give away a massive, million-dollar book for 20k.

It's a sliding scale that is required for a product that has no set market value. What makes an actor's work on a hit show more valuable than an actor's work on a show that gets canned after five episodes? The market value for art almost always comes after the fact, so residuals account for that reality. They make sure the creator get compensated at a fair market rate. A person who builds a bathroom knows, upfront, what the market rate for a bathroom is. That bathroom won't suddenly be worth 1000 times more than you built it for in six months. It doesn't have the potential to be built for 20k and generate 20 million.

Residuals are a pay structure that simply account for an unsure market value. Trust me, we all wish we could quantify art in terms of dollars. But art is unpredictable. So studios and streamers -- which literally REQUIRE content to stay viable -- have to account for that unpredictability. And for studios (or record labels, or book publishers) it's always trial and error. The only way to get a hit, is to go through a few flops.

For every Whitney Houston, there was a singer you never heard of. For every Sopranos, there was a show that got scrapped mid season. For every Titanic, there was a movie that bombed. For every Twilight, there was a book about vampires that went nowhere. Residuals are kind of a reverse market valuation. They pay a fair wage for a product than can only have a set value once it's been created and effectively consumed.

And even then, shit changes. Anyone think Kate Bush would spend weeks on the top of the charts in 2022? Residuals account for unpredictable markets. And in order to have accurate residuals, streamers and studios need to be transparent and open about their data, which is one of the MANY things the WGA and SAG are both fighting for.

[politicalprof]

On the election:

Thoughts? Sure. Lots of them:

--I have said from the beginning that this is a turnout election. Get me 2016 levels of turnout and Trump could well win. Get me 2020 levels of turnout and Harris would probably win. 2024's turnout is much closer to 2016 than 2020, so the electorate was whiter, more male, and older in 2024 than 2020. The people Harris needed to vote, didn't. Thus Trump won all or most of the swing states, and won the popular vote -- the first Republican to do so since 2004. (This is why I was a not a poll watcher: percentages in a poll do not translate directly into actual voting; in a turnout election actual voting is what matters.)

--I used to ask my classes, "will we have a Black president or a female president first? (Yes, I acknowledged the obvious "Black female" hole in that question.) The Black question was answered in 2008; we now have a further answer in that a candidate of the nature of Donald Trump has beaten two immensely qualified female candidates, one white and one woman of color -- both in low turnout elections. Apparently, America really, really, doesn't want a female president.

--Dobbs didn't matter, at least not as predicted. Women didn't "vote Harris" despite all claims they would do so, at least not at the predicted rates.

--Demography is not destiny. The Latino vote has moved toward Trump in three successive elections. I'd guess this is *because* of his anti-immigrant stances, not despite them: pulling up the ladder after you "make it" is an old part of American political life.

--[edit/added]: it's a global "throw the bums out" cycle. People are pissed for lots of reasons, and fairly or not, the "in power" people are feeling the pain. Such is the nature of political timing.

--The urban/rural split is a hell of a thing in American politics, and it's only going to get more intense over time as rural areas continue to empty but still get two Senators forever and ever and ever.

--There are a LOT of people who don't think of politics in either ideological or governance terms. They're not interested in whether a candidate means what he says or is capable of achieving the ends being promised. Rather, politics for these people is *entertainment.* What matters is the show. The "right" people need to be publicly valorized; the "wrong" people need to be attacked, humiliated, and hounded out of the public square. It's bread and circuses. As long as the entertainment continues they'll put up with the regime whatever it is doing to them in the background.

--Donald Trump remains the greatest politician in American history at dominating the news cycle, and thus feeding the entertainment machine. Every crazy, cruel, cantankerous thing he says gets re-amplified over and over again, driving everything else out of the political ecosystem. It's evil. But it's genius.

--I have long said that Donald Trump will never pay a meaningful price for his crimes, his corruption, and his cruelty. He will die in a golden bed surrounded by a harem of women and teams of acolytes singing his praises. It's not fair. But it's almost certainly true.

--A brief note on tariffs: when America relied on tariffs, the government was much smaller than it is now (meaning it needed less money to operate), and US economy activity was mostly concentrated in the US (meaning that it was hard for other countries to put retaliatory tariffs on US products). Neither of these things are true today. So, good luck with that.

I'm sure there's more. But that's a start.

[nobodysdaydreams]

I already know the Wizard is probably gonna be so scared of Dorothy for so many reasons.

First of all, she’s from our world and from the same region of the US, so she knows exactly where he’s from and the technology he’s using to fake his magic. In fact, if time in Oz and Kansas/Nebraska are moving at the same rate, Dorothy should be from a time period ahead of when the Wizard came to Oz and should be able to easily explain most of his “magic”.

Second of all, the Grimmerie’s prophecy is that it will be read by someone from the sky in Oz’s darkest hour. Obviously, that’s Elphaba counteracting the Wizard, but the Wizard has everyone convinced it was him fixing things after the drought. But now, Oz is under “threat” of the witch and a young girl from his world shows up, kills the sister of the Wizard’s enemy, and has a dog with her, possibly a talking one. Everyone thinks Dorothy is super powerful, she fits exactly what the Grimmerie predicted, and she has everything she needs to expose the Wizard. He’d be terrified.

This is how I picture it going down:

Some guard: “The girl is quite powerful, sir. She came from the sky and immediately killed the Wicked Witch of the East. She claims it was easy, unintentional even!”

The Wizard (to himself): “Nothing to worry about. That was technically Morrible’s doing, the fact that she came from the sky is coincidental. I’m certain she has no real power.”

The guard: “She also acquired the dead witch’s shoes and when the Wicked Witch of the West showed up to take them, it was discovered the witch had no power over the girl.”

The Wizard (trying not to freak out): “You mean…Elphaba was powerless to stop this new witch-killing visitor from the sky? One that killed her sister and stole her property? You don’t say. And um… did the girl happen to say where she was from?”

The guard: “Yes. Kansas. She claims it’s a place without magic or talking animals.”

The Wizard (slowly becoming paranoid and trying to play it off): “Oh really? Haha… how silly. Never heard of a place called Kansas or anywhere without magic seeing as I’m clearly a powerful Wizard. And um… where is this girl now?”

The guard: “Why, she’s on the way to the Emerald City right now along with two animals, a least one of which can talk, and two men cursed by the Witch of the West. Apparently, they want to see you, specifically.”

The Wizard (sweating): “They want to see ME? I mean um…who wouldn’t? Haha… but whatever for?”

The guard: “Well, they’re demanding you fix the condition of the two men the witch cursed, give the girl passage home, and help the talking lion overcome his trauma. Seeing as they are celebrated throughout Oz for killing one wicked witch for us, surely it is appropriate and well within your power to grant their requests immediately.”

The Wizard (slipping into madness and frantically trying to hide it): “Indeed it is I am a generous man yes, and I can totally do that for sure, yes of course, I have the power, but first, let’s take them all prisoner upon arrival just in case can never be too careful these days.”

The guard: “Sir… are you saying you want us to…”

The Wizard (shouting and trembling in fear): “Throw that little girl in prison, put those Animals in cages, and keep the two the witch cursed out of my sight! Tell them I’m busy! Tell them I have the flu! Tell them I’m out of town! Any excuse, I don’t care what it is, and whatever you do, DO NOT let that girl escape!”

By this point, the Wizard is paranoid out of his mind, assuming they are on the way to kill and/or expose him and given the company Dorothy keeps, it’s unlikely the Wizard will be very successful in getting her on his side. His goal would likely be to cage the Animals, find a way to deal with Boq and Fiyero (if he even recognizes them), and capture Dorothy as a potential enemy.

Maybe Elphaba writing “Surrender Dorothy” in the sky with her broom in this version of the story isn’t asking Dorothy herself to surrender, but demanding the Wizard to give Dorothy up because he takes her prisoner out of fear that she will expose him and the Wizard lets her go on the condition that she proves her loyalty by killing the Witch. The Wizard probably figures it’s a win/win for him: either Elphaba or Dorothy will die, and one of his enemies will destroy the other. What he wouldn’t expect is them working together, because as far as he knows, Dorothy has stolen the witch’s sister’s shoes and befriended two men cursed by the witch.

[bratzkoo]

WGM episode 2 | dk

episode 2: home

Author: bratzkoo Pairing: seokmin x reader Genre: fluff Rating: PG-13 Word count: 1.9k~ Warnings/note: fluff, fake marriage, and real feelings. cursing, seokmin curses a lot in his head.

summary: WE GOT MARRIED is back. Seokmin and Y/N pairs up to shoot 10 episodes for a special. Turns out, there are more things happenings off-camera than what meets the eye.

taglist (hit me up if you wanna be added): @ateez-atiny380 , @aeerio . @vernons-wifey12 , @odevote118 , @btskzfav , @codeinebelle , @syluslittlecrows

requests are close, but you can just say hi! | masterlist series masterlist | previous episode | next episode

[Opening sequence: Clips from the baseball date, ending with Y/N hugging Seokmin during the home run celebration]

Narrator: "After their successful first date, our newest couple on 'We Got Married' is taking a big step forward—moving into their newlywed home! How will they adjust to sharing a space?"

---

Seokmin arrived at the apartment complex twenty minutes early (a pattern forming that he refused to acknowledge), clutching a small houseplant and a bag of snacks he'd spent an embarrassing amount of time selecting at the convenience store last night. He'd been up until 3 AM texting Mingyu about appropriate housewarming gifts, which had somehow morphed into a group chat with half the members offering increasingly ridiculous suggestions.

Mingyu: Just bring some nice candles or something  

Seungkwan: BRING A GOLDFISH IT'S SYMBOLIC  

Jeonghan: Matching bathrobes with your initials  

Wonwoo: Maybe just something normal like a plant  

Hoshi: TIGER PLUSHIE 🐯🐯🐯  

He'd settled on Wonwoo's suggestion, but now, staring at the sad little succulent in his hand, he was having second thoughts. Is this too boring? Too predictable? Not romantic enough? TOO romantic? WHY IS THIS SO COMPLICATED?

The production staff was already setting up inside the apartment—a stylish two-bedroom in a trendy neighborhood that would be their "home" for the next few months of filming. Seokmin paced outside, rehearsing casual greetings in his head.

"Hey, welcome home." No, too forward.  

"Good morning, roomie!" No, too fraternity bro.  

"Honey, I'm home!" ABSOLUTELY NOT.

When Y/N's car pulled up, Seokmin nearly dropped the plant in his haste to look natural and relaxed, which resulted in him adopting an awkward pose against the building wall that made him look like he was modeling for a very confused fashion catalog.

Y/N stepped out carrying a small suitcase and a gift bag, looking unfairly pretty in simple jeans and a blouse. How does she do that? Is it a special actress power? Can you learn this skill?

"Hi," she said, smiling that smile that made his brain short-circuit. "Have you been waiting long?"

"Me? No. Just got here. This second. Practically late, actually," he rambled, the lie so obvious it was practically waving a flag.

Y/N glanced at his clearly nervous stance and pretended to believe him. "Is that for our new place?" she asked, nodding at the plant.

"Oh! Yes!" Seokmin thrust the succulent forward like he was presenting a newborn lion cub. "I thought we could name it. Like a practice child. NOT THAT I'M THINKING ABOUT CHILDREN. Or practice. Or... I'm going to stop talking now."

Y/N laughed, taking the plant gently. "I love it. How about we call it... DK Junior?"

"After me?" Seokmin clutched his chest dramatically, genuinely touched by the gesture. "I'm honored to have a plant child named after me."

Real smooth, plant dad.

"Should we go inside?" Y/N suggested, saving him from himself.

"Yes! Let me get your bag." Seokmin reached for her suitcase, accidentally brushing her hand in the process. The touch sent what felt like static electricity up his arm, and he nearly dropped the bag entirely.

Play it cool. You've touched hands before. This is basic human interaction.

"Our humble abode awaits," he said, gesturing grandly toward the entrance.

---

The apartment was beautiful—modern but cozy, with large windows and tasteful furnishings. The production team had already set up cameras in the main areas but was trying to be discreet about it. There were two bedrooms (thank God), a spacious living room, a kitchen, and a small balcony with a city view.

"Wow," Y/N said, turning in a slow circle to take it all in.

"Better than my dorm," Seokmin quipped, then immediately regretted bringing up his real life. The line between show and reality was already blurring dangerously in his mind.

"I brought something too," Y/N said, holding out her gift bag. "Housewarming present."

Seokmin took the bag, absurdly nervous about opening it in front of her. Inside was a coffee mug with musical notes on it and a package of his favorite tea—the one he'd mentioned offhandedly during their baseball date.

She remembered. She actually listened and remembered.

"You mentioned you always have tea before performances," Y/N explained, suddenly looking a bit shy herself. "I thought you might like having your own mug here."

Seokmin was genuinely speechless for a moment, a rare occurrence that the production staff would surely mark on their calendars.

"This is perfect," he finally managed, holding the mug like it was made of precious crystal. "Thank you."

There was a moment—just a brief one—where they looked at each other, and Seokmin forgot about the cameras entirely. Then a production assistant dropped something in the kitchen, shattering the moment.

"So!" Seokmin said too loudly. "Tour time?"

---

The "moving in" process was mostly symbolic, since the apartment was already furnished, but they each had small suitcases of personal items to unpack. The real challenge came when they needed to decide where everything should go.

"I think the plant would look nice by the window," Y/N suggested, placing DK Junior on the sill.

"Perfect sunlight," Seokmin agreed. "But what if we put your books here instead, and moved the plant to the coffee table?"

"Hmm, I like the plant by the window better."

"But the feng shui—"

"Do you actually know anything about feng shui?" Y/N challenged, eyebrow raised.

"Absolutely not," Seokmin admitted immediately. "I just thought it sounded impressive."

Y/N laughed, that bright sound that Seokmin was quickly becoming addicted to. "Points for honesty. Plant stays by the window."

"Yes, ma'am," he said with an exaggerated salute.

They continued arranging their personal items, falling into a surprisingly comfortable rhythm. Y/N had an eye for aesthetics, while Seokmin just wanted everything to be functional. When they reached the kitchen, however, true discord arose.

"The coffee mugs should go in this cabinet," Seokmin insisted, pointing to the one nearest the coffee maker.

"But then where will we put the glasses?" Y/N countered.

"In the other cabinet!"

"But that's too high for me to reach easily."

Seokmin paused, considering this. "I could get things down for you," he offered, then immediately felt his ears burn. "Or we could use a step stool. Or redesign the kitchen entirely. Whatever works."

Y/N looked at him with an expression he couldn't quite read. "You'd get cups down for me?"

"Well, yeah," he said, suddenly self-conscious. "I mean, that's what tall people are for, right? Reaching high shelves and changing light bulbs."

"What are short people for then?" she asked, seemingly genuinely curious about his taxonomy of height-based responsibilities.

"Fitting into small spaces," he answered promptly. "And looking cute in oversized sweaters."

OH MY GOD WHY DID I SAY THAT.

To his relief, Y/N just laughed. "Fair enough. Let's compromise—glasses in the lower cabinet, mugs up high."

"Deal," Seokmin agreed, grateful she'd ignored his sweater comment.

---

After arranging the living space, they sat on the couch to plan their first meal in their new "home." The production team had stocked the fridge with basics, but neither of them seemed particularly confident in their cooking abilities.

"I can make ramyeon," Seokmin offered. "Like, the fancy kind with an egg on top."

"That's about my skill level too," Y/N admitted. "Though I once set pasta on fire, so maybe you should lead this operation."

"You set PASTA on fire? How is that even possible?" Seokmin asked, delighted by this revelation.

"I got distracted watching dance practice videos," she said, then clapped her hand over her mouth. "I wasn't supposed to admit that."

Seokmin's heart did a somersault. "Dance practice videos? Like, idol dance practices?"

Y/N's cheeks turned adorably pink. "Maybe."

"Any group in particular?" he pressed, unable to help himself.

"This feels like a trap."

"I promise it's not," he said, making an X over his heart. "Scout's honor."

Y/N sighed dramatically. "Fine. I may occasionally watch SEVENTEEN dance practices. For research purposes only, of course."

Seokmin felt like he'd just won the lottery. "Research, of course. And which member's parts do you research most thoroughly?"

"Now that," Y/N said, standing up, "is classified information. Let's make that ramyeon before I admit anything else embarrassing."

Seokmin followed her to the kitchen, feeling lighter than air. She watches our videos. She might actually be a fan. This is simultaneously the best and most terrifying news possible.

---

The ramyeon cooking adventure quickly turned chaotic when Seokmin, distracted by Y/N's proximity in the small kitchen, added way too much gochujang to the broth. Their first meal ended up being almost inedibly spicy, but they ate it anyway, laughing through watery eyes and runny noses.

"I'm so sorry," Seokmin wheezed between gulps of water. "I swear I can usually do this."

"It's fine," Y/N gasped, fanning her mouth. "It builds character."

"And sinus clearance," he added, which sent them both into another fit of laughter.

After dinner (such as it was), they settled on the couch again, still chuckling about their culinary disaster. As the evening grew late, the production director finally called a wrap for the day.

"Well," Seokmin said as the cameras powered down, "welcome home, I guess."

"Thanks for the plant," Y/N replied, looking around at their newly arranged space. "It already feels more like home."

An awkward silence fell as they both realized they'd be leaving separately, returning to their real homes, this shared space just a set they'd revisit for filming.

"I put a note in your room," Seokmin blurted out. "Nothing weird, just... a welcome note. You can read it after I leave if you want. Or never. Or use it as a coaster. Whatever."

Y/N smiled, touching his arm briefly. "I'll read it right now, if that's okay."

She disappeared into her designated bedroom while Seokmin tried not to have a panic attack about the cheesy note he'd hidden under her pillow earlier. He couldn't even remember exactly what he'd written—something encouraging about the show and hoping they'd have fun together.

When Y/N emerged a minute later, her expression was soft. "That was sweet. Thank you."

"No problem," he said, feeling both relieved and exposed. "I'll, uh, see you for the next filming?"

"Actually," Y/N said hesitantly, "would you want to grab coffee sometime before then? To discuss how we want to decorate? The PD mentioned we'll be shopping for more personal touches next episode."

Seokmin's heart rate quadrupled. "Yes! I mean, sure, that makes sense. Professional planning. For the show."

"Exactly," Y/N agreed. "For the show."

They exchanged a look that felt distinctly un-show-like, and Seokmin wondered if his face looked as warm as it felt.

Later that night, after enduring another round of merciless teasing from his members about his spicy ramyeon disaster (Hoshi had connections with the production staff, apparently), Seokmin received a text:

Y/N: DK Junior has been placed in optimal sunlight position and is thriving in his new home. His plant parents should be proud.

Seokmin grinned at his phone, typing back:

Seokmin: Glad to hear it. We'll be model plant parents. Better than our ramyeon parenting skills at least.

As he set his phone down, he tried not to think about how quickly this "fake" relationship was starting to feel like something else entirely. Or how much he was looking forward to their "professional planning" coffee date that definitely wasn't a real date.

Not at all.

[a-killer-obsession]

Whoops, you got hit by a bus, and now you're in the world of One Piece. But not everything is quite as you remember it...

General Tags: afab reader, she/her reader pronouns, isekai, monsterfucker reader, vampire!kid, werewolf!killer, wyrm!heat, minotaur!wire, everyone has a human form, smut heavy, unhealthy relationships, dubious consent, serious violence, spoilers for Wano arc, starts pre-timeskip. There will be a lot of more intense kinks, please check AO3 for all current tags.

Chapter 11 - Two For One Special

The best things come in twos :)

WC: 3.4k

Masterlist | AO3 | Chapter 1

A/N: yes I know this isn't how snake dicks work, but also he's not a snake so 😤

It'd been a few days since Kid had announced your official joining of the Kid Pirates, and the crew had welcomed you with open arms. While you hadn't had much chance to get to know them, you had become decent friends with Quincy, Hip and Emma, who had accompanied you on several shopping trips over the last few days so you could stock up on all the things you needed, like clothes, sanitary items and furniture to be delivered to the Victoria Punk in a few days. Right now the Punk resided in a dry dock, being coated by Rayleigh in preparation for the journey to Fishman Island. It was nice having the guarantee that the crew would make it to the New World unscathed, given the low success rate for pirates passing through. As predicted, Rayleigh had been thankful for Kid's help in getting Cammie out of the auction house, even if it hadn't been his intention. It would take another day for the coating to be finished, and in the meantime the crew had been staying on Sabaody. You'd even had the chance to visit the amusement park with the girls, and Quincy may or may not have fingered you in the ferris wheel, a lady never kisses and tells. You liked Quincy, she was fun. If you were gonna sleep with anyone on your own fruition, outside of the big four, it'd most likely be her. A little bit of pussy, for variety.

You spent the first few nights staying with Wire, since fucking him when you should have been resting did in fact turn out to be a mistake, and Wire was the least likely to jump you when he knew you needed time to recover. You were offered your own room, now that you weren't a prisoner, but you didn't feel comfortable being on your own in a place known for kidnapping and selling people. Kid wasn't happy about being separated from his ship, because it meant he couldn't work on your collar, but it was just as well since you weren't up for being free-used right now anyway. It was nice spending more time with Wire, he wasn't as stuck up as you initially thought, he was actually pretty easy to get along with now that you were a crewmate and not a prisoner. He hadn't allowed himself to get close to you when there was risk of you being a traitor and being disposed of, but now that you were a permanent fixture he was allowed to let himself care about you. He wasn't as cuddly as the others, but he was good company. Last night though Heat had practically begged you to spend the night with him, and pinky promised he would be on his absolute best behaviour, so you'd relented.

Heat had kept to his word, not going any further with you than cuddles and some pleasant making out, and now he slept soundly beside you in his wyrm form, forced on his back by his horns, his long tail hanging off the end of the bed. You were nestled up against him, wearing one of his old shirts with nothing underneath. You owned clothes now, but the boys all had such soft shirts that were so oversized and comfy to sleep in. While he was on his best behaviour, you were feeling a bit frisky. You were well aware that your period was close, and it was making you antsy. You didn't know how keen the boys would be on period sex, so you decided to take advantage of the short amount of time you had before your cycle started. You were already cramping lightly, so it wouldn't be long. Not to mention you usually had quite painful periods, so you usually didn't want to be touched due to how miserable you felt.

You also had a curiosity after the gangbang, after watching Wire toy with the slit that hid Heat's cocks. You wondered what it looked and felt like inside the slit, and since Wire had done it, surely it was okay to toy with - it certainly seemed like Heat had enjoyed it. Quietly you pulled the blankets off him and straddled his pretty mauve tail. His scales were always so beautiful, you loved to run your hands over them and admire the iridescence. He was especially beautiful in the sunlight, when his whole tail sparkled with that iridescence. Heat stirred a little in his sleep as you lowered your weight on to him, but didn't wake yet. You ran your finger over the closed slit, feeling bad for a short moment for invading his privacy, before remembering how many times you'd woken up with Heat's dick buried in your cunt.

You used your thumbs either side of the slit to gently pry the scales apart, a little surprised at what you found inside. It almost looked like a pussy, the tip of the higher cock where you would expect a clit to be, the other tip lower where you would expect the vaginal opening. It seemed like they were laid one on top of another, the shafts going up towards his belly. Pretending it was a clit, you fiddled with the pointed tip of the upper cock, making Heat whine in his sleep. You pushed your fingers in further, between the two shafts, feeling the piercings and bumps that lined the lower side of the upper shaft. It was warm and a little moist inside his sheath, a bit like a pussy. No wonder Wire liked to toy with it, and it made you feel flustered to technically be inside him.

Leaning down, sliding your butt a little further down his tail, you held the slit open and flicked the upper cock with your tongue. You pushed your tongue between the shafts, tasting the musky slick that coated them, a taste you were familiar with whenever Heat was in this form. You sucked on the tip, feeling it move as his cocks sprang to life and tried to slide from the slit. The more you worked at his cocks, the less you could get inside him, until both phallus were proudly presented. You took turns sucking on each one, listening to Heat's quiet whimpers, until his own moan woke him.

“[Y/n]?” He groaned, hips wiggling and fingers gripping at the sheets as he realised the situation, “ohh, fuck, fuck [y/n], that's so good.”

“You're so pretty, Heat,” you cooed before focusing on the lower cock, bobbing your head as your hand worked the other. Heat whined and whipped his tail excitedly against the bed, one of his hands burying in your hair and beckoning you to swallow more of him. You let him guide you, wanting to please him and hear more of his cute little whimpers, gagging occasionally as his tip hit your uvula. You'd had a lot of practice these days, and could almost take all of him in this form, the thinner tip far easier on your throat than a human cock. Your eyes watered as finally you were able to successfully meet his base, and Heat let out a high pitched whine that was your only warning before his grip on your hair tightened, holding you against him as he emptied right down your throat. His other cock likewise spilled out, drenching your face and hand with a stream of cum.

When his grip finally loosened you pulled off with a pop, licking at the cum that dripped on your lips with a fiendish smile. Heat sat up and kissed you fiercely, before licking a wide swipe up your face to clean off his cum. It aroused you to taste his own cum on his tongue, and you ground your bare cunt against his tail and the base of his still exposed cocks. His hand slid down your front, catching the hem of your shirt and pulling it up and over your head. He dipped to suck on your tits, groping each of them and squishing them together, pressing his face against the valley he created. He had to be careful of his horns, but mostly they just pushed flat against your clavicle.

“I could die happy in these tits,” he sighed, “fucking incredible. You're so beautiful.”

One of his hands travelled down your soft front, until it could cup your mound. His fingers slipped between your folds, and he groaned against your nipple as he felt how soaked you were. His cocks were twitching back to life as he heard the wet squelch your cunt made as he pushed two fingers inside you, pumping you deep and slow. You were practically dripping on his hand with how wet you were, bouncing slighting to try fuck his fingers faster. Heat added a third finger and stretched you out more. He focused on pleasing you, using his other hand to rub your clit as he watched your face contort in pleasure, your mouth making a pretty little ‘o’ as you hit your orgasm and shuddered against him with a gasp.

“Heat,” you panted against his chest as he pulled his fingers out of you, “I- I want your cocks.”

“Plural?” He questioned with a raised brow. You'd never asked for both.

“Plural,” you confirmed, nipping at his neck and making him groan until he gave in and pushed you onto your back beside him, quickly rolling to take his place between your legs. He spread your legs wide and rut his lower shaft against your soaked cunt.

“Relax for me, treasure,” Heat cooed, holding both cocks squeezed together in his hand and pressing the tips to your entrance. He was overly excited to bury both of his dicks inside you at once, but didn't want to hurt you by being too hasty. The tips slid inside you easily, the tapered ends meaning that the first quarter or so of his lengths only amounted to about the girth of his human cock. It was when he pushed in further that you began to feel the stretch, and you made a low groan as he bullied his cocks inside you. You gripped his forearms bruisingly tight as he stretched you out, his combined width being even greater than Wire's as he reached the thickest part. It was easier for him to press the rest in once you'd eased enough to accommodate, and Heat let out a stuttered breath as he stilled with his cocks deep inside you.

“Fuck, you're so perfect,” he groaned, “so good to me, my perfect treasure.”

“So.. so full,” you whined, “feels good, hnng.”

“Yeah? You like having both my cocks inside you? Stretching you out, like the good little slut you are?” Heat purred, slowly pulling most of the way out before sliding back in again. You made strained groans as he fucked you slowly, your belly bulging from how full you were, fingernails digging into his arms and back. “Fuck you take me so well.”

Heat was barely moving but you were so full that every inch of your inner walls were being pressed against, and it was driving you to madness. He'd hardly entered you and you already felt like you were going to cum again. Your legs wrapped around his tail at the same time as you grabbed his horns, and you pulled on them to bring his face closer, capturing his bottom lip with your teeth and tugging on it. “Harder,” you growled, “fuck me harder, Heat.”

“Fuck,” Heat groaned as he picked up his pace, the bed underneath you creaking with every thrust as you started to scream like a bitch in heat, the whole inn would no doubt hear you. Let them hear, you were in heaven, cock drunk as Heat fucked you hard, pulling what felt like endless orgasms from you as you cried out. “I wanna see you covered in cum,” Heat groaned, “can I finish on you?”

“Please,” you whined, “wanna- wanna be painted. Paint me Heat, give it to me.”

“You're such a good girl,” Heat cooed as he pulled one last orgasm from you, making you go limp as you panted, dazed and blissed out. He pulled his cocks from you, making you whine at the emptiness, before he held them in one hand and jerked himself off. Heat made deep grunts as he fisted himself, releasing volatile ropes of cum over your belly and breasts as he quivered above you. With a contented sigh he rolled to your side, breathing heavy next to you. Your hand lazily ran through the cum, rubbing it over your breasts as you sleepily groped at them before falling limp again.

“I thought you were taking a break,” Heat asked.

“I was, but I woke up horny,” you explained, “I'm always like this when I'm about to get my period. It'll probably come in a few hours.”

“Boo, that means Kid will want you staying with him,” Heat pouted.

“Oh? He's into period sex?” You asked.

“He likes blood,” Heat replied, in a tone that made you think he was a little confused that you didn't realise that.

“I could just not tell him,” you suggested mischievously.

“He'll smell it a mile away,” Heat sighed, “there's no avoiding it. He'll treat you good though, he's well practised with periods. You'll be spoiled for sure.”

“Well then,” you giggled, “I guess I can't complain about that. Though I get the feeling you'd spoil me too.”

“I'll spoil you after,” he promised, “my pretty treasure. In the meantime…” you giggled and squirmed as he leaned over and licked a long stripe up your belly, cleaning off a lot of his cum and tickling you in the process, “... I've got a few more hours until you get Kid-napped. But I'm gonna have to groom you first,” he made several more licks all over your breasts and tummy, “before I get you all messy again.”

A couple hours later and just as predicted, your period had come. Heat offered you some weed and more sex to help with the pain, which you happily accepted, resulting in a round of dizzying, giggly, shower sex. After that the two of you met up with Wire and Killer, the four of you heading off to do some shopping. Kid had ordered them to find you an appropriate weapon, and for your training to start as soon as the crew were back at sea. You knew you were good with a rifle, from all your hunting trips with your dad, so you were on the lookout for a suitable one. The boys had also noticed that you were decently strong, not to mention the potential of your armament haki, so they were also looking for a close combat weapon that took advantage of those strengths. You weren't very fast or agile though, so they also had to keep that in mind. The boys had high standards though, and it felt like it was going to take all day to find weapons they approved off. They couldn't decide on the type of weapon either - Killer wanted to train you with swords, Wire wanted to train you with something long like a spear, and Heat wanted you to get something that would just look cool and take advantage of your strength, like a battleaxe.

The rifle was the easier weapon to find, your eye caught by a beautiful single shot rifle, the wooden parts made from the blue stripes of one of Sabaody's giant mangroves, trimmed with silver metal that had been delicately engraved with florals. It was a beautiful gun, and close to what you were familiar with using back home. Right now it was slung over Heat's back - the boys wanted Kid to inspect it before you were allowed to use it. You felt a little like a princess with the way they were all treating you like some precious thing, it was nice to feel like they all had your safety in mind. Not to mention it was such a beautiful gun that they were worried someone would try to snatch it from you, and without knowing your fighting capabilities they didn't want to risk that.

Heat and Killer were currently debating a battle axe Heat had found, while on the other side of the store you followed Wire, who was examining the range of polearm weapons for sale. You hummed to yourself as you walked behind him; despite your cramps you were in a good mood, you felt truly special with the care the boys were taking to choose your weapons.

“Someone seems chipper,” Wire noted as he pulled a spear from the rack and inspected it, “have a good morning with Heat did we? We certainly all heard you, and by the sounds of it he either he fucked your brains out or murdered you, and I'm gonna guess it wasn't the later.”

“Actually, I'm feeling quite proud of myself,” you replied with a grin, “I took both of his dicks today.”

“Oh, in the same hole?” Wire put down the spear to give you his attention, this was far more interesting than weapon shopping.

“Yeah!” You smiled, running your hand down the staff of a halbert. Now that you looked at it, it was quite lovely. It was made from that same blue wood, and the silver axe-like blade featured ornate cut outs that could be mistaken for matching your gun. A weapon like this would give you a lot of options; it was long, so you could keep enemies a little further away, it had the blades either side for swinging motions that took advantage of your strength, and it had the long spear tip for stabbing motions. “What about this one?”

“I told you you could do it, good job, proud of you,” Wire pressed a kiss into your hair before looking at the halberd and pulling it from the rack, “Looks well made, I think this would suit you nicely.”

“And it matches my gun!” You beamed.

“It does indeed,” Wire offered a soft smile. He liked how enthusiastic you were about learning to fight, he appreciated someone willing to stand up for themselves instead of relying on others. As much as they were all treating you like some delicate, precious thing, Wire had high hopes for your fighting capabilities, and if you selected the halberd it meant he could train you himself. As much as your pussy was the hot commodity you were kept on board for, he was growing quite fond of you, and he didn't want to always be worrying about your safety when they got to the New World, so he'd make sure you had all the skills you needed to hold your own in battle. “If this is what you want, I'll teach you to use it. Give it a hold, see how the weight feels.”

Wire handed you the halberd and you held it with both hands, Wire gently shifting them to the correct positions along the staff. “Feels good, not too heavy,” you hummed, “I think I could work with this.”

“You look good with it,” Wire noted, “OI, KIL, HEAT, GET YOUR ASSES OVER HERE.”

Heat put the axe back on the rack and the two of them scurried over, playfully pushing each other as they moved. Wire made a gesture with his head for you to hand them the weapon, and Killer took it and looked over it carefully. “Not bad,” Killer mused, before handing it to Heat to look at, “This what you want?” Killer asked you.

“Yeah, I like it,” you replied as Heat handed it back.

“You look good with it,” Heat praised.

“That's what Wire said!” You giggled.

“I agree,” Killer added, “of course Kid will want to check it over, but I think we're good here.”

“Yay!” You squeaked, messing around with the weapon, “Look! I can stab AND slice! It's a two for one special! Yippee!”

“You're fucking adorable,” Heat laughed, ruffling your hair as the men made their way to the checkout counter, “you're gonna look so cute covered in our enemy's blood.”

“Aw, thanks Heat,” you smiled, standing on your tippy toes to kiss him on the cheek. Heat had a cute pink flush for the next hour, every now and then touching the spot on his cheek like he was remembering the feel of your lips there.

[Next Chapter] - coming soon

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[b1rds3ye]

Victory Kiss

Turns out Graves gets very passionate when celebrating a successful mission. And when you’re nearby you end up facing the brunt of it.

Pairing: Phillip Graves x GN!Reader

Reader Aliases: Chief

Genre: Fluff, Comedy, Pre-MWII

Word Count: 1.5k

Warning: Graves kisses reader without prior consent (not malicious but please read at your own discretion)

A/N: Probably OOC Graves but imagining this was too entertaining to me 😋

You’ve gotten used to this.

You’ve gotten used to Graves’ infectious energy after a hard-earned win. He was a natural leader, cunning and brimming with charisma, but carefully restrained as to not be impulsive in high stakes situations. But when the stakes were low - such as times like now - Graves was free to be as expressive as he wished. And as second in command to Shadow Company, required to always stand by his side, you got front tickets to watch it unfold.

Shadow Company had offered unofficial air support in the depths of Kastovia. With every operation the stakes were getting higher and higher. After deploying all ammunition until resources were depleted, it seemed the entire aircraft waited with bated breath as you surveyed the ground through a heads up display. You sensed Graves beside you, his looming shadow gave more contrast to the monochromatic screen. Each pixel flickered from the daylight, the movement of trees and friendlies through the screen setting false flags in your mind.

You pulled back to look at Graves. His face was stern, the muscles in his face taut, eyebrows slightly furrowed as he tried to read your neutral expression. You shook your head.

“Confirmed hit, all hostiles eliminated.”

And there it was, like a switch flicked inside of him, you felt a little proud that you were the one who triggered it. Graves slammed his hands on the front console, pushing himself off to stand tall, brimming with energy. He was now adorning that familiar smile, a little wonky but charming all the same. With a heavy arm, he gave you a hefty slap on the back in congratulations, one that would’ve sent your head through the display if you weren’t prepared.

“That’s what I’m fucking talking about Shadows, this is how you get the job done!”

The entire atmosphere of the compartment lifted, you wouldn’t be surprised if the aircraft itself increased in elevation. There were sighs of relief, cheers of joy and hugs of a job well done. You never got sick of this sight, it reminded you what you were fighting for, to bring these boys home and secure victory.

It was a familiar sight, but it was comfortingly predictable. You watched with amusement as Graves paced around the room, praising each individual member in a voice so loud it damaged your ears once, then bounced off the walls to hurt your hearing for a second round. Each recruit responded with the signature ‘yup-yup’ and beaming smile. With each comment given, Graves was getting more and more drunk off the adrenaline which after months of observing him, came with some interesting habits of his.

It was fun hearing him swear like a sailor when he usually keeps his language so restrained he could be put on a children’s show.

“I saw your shots Erikson, that was the shit.”

“Vance you saved our fuckin’ asses with that extra fire.”

“Send this mission report to Shepherd and your dads will be back with the milk before you fucking know it!”

You’re pretty sure Graves has no idea what’s coming out of his mouth at this rate and to be fair neither do you nor the rest of the Shadows.

You stifled a snicker as you watched on. He continued with his questionable praise, not even stopping at the aircraft itself to which he gave an encouraging spank to the metal wall, only to recoil his arm when it unmistakably hurt his palm. Even on the other side of the aircraft, you caught snippets of what he said and you were sure the cheerful laughs of the Shadows were out of respect and not because they understood him. Although with an accent and voice like his, he could make a nonsensical string of sounds and you’d be nodding along.

Graves had gone full circle and made his way back to you.

“And to the soldier of the hour.”

He reared his head to you with such a leading force that the rest of his body had a hard time keeping up. His arms swayed from the momentum.

Just like every routine celebration, he planted his hands securely on your shoulders. His face is graced with the same charming smile he’s given you for months. Even under the red lighting of the aircraft he looked nothing short of a budding hero, the blue of his irises shone against the shadows cast over his face.

You expected the praise.

“Beautiful fuckin’ work, Chief.”

What you didn’t expect was the kiss that came straight afterwards.

You didn’t even have time to reply as Graves used his leverage on your shoulders to pull you in, lips crashing against yours. It was chaste, but the sheer strength he had made you sure your lips will bruise. Your mind blanked, adrenaline numbing any potential pains. The whirring of the aircraft’s turbo engines were drowned out, your vision dimming at the edges as all your senses honed in on Graves’ lips pressed into yours. It lasted no more than a single second until he separated from you, lips parting with an exaggerated but unintentional mwah.

“Dunno what I’d do without you,” he breathed out, only for you to hear. He watched you innocently, the skin around his eyes wrinkled in excitement, hands drifting down until they were on your biceps, rubbing your arms affectionately. However, you had to tear your gaze away from him and to the rest of the aircraft.

Graves just kissed you…

… in front of Shadow Company.

Your stomach dropped as you made eye contact with the entire team who now watched the two of you like teens tuning in to the hottest new flick. They were here for the drama, quiet as they waited for your response but smiles of anticipation creeping onto their faces.

“Eyes off, Shadows.”

Graves’ voice returned to its usual commanding tone, as though you were back in the mission. There was the grumble of ‘yup-yup’s’ as the rest of the team made the show of focusing on their stations (but you knew they were still sneaking glances whenever possible). Graves reoriented the two of you until you were against the wall, using himself to obscure the company’s view of you.

“Fuckin’ beautiful,” Graves muttered absentmindedly. He sounded more grounded, but he still needed to catch up on his breath, chest heaving in and out.

“It was a damn clean mission, Graves.”

“I ain’t talkin’ about the mission.”

Graves gives you his signature cocky smirk, waiting for a few moments for you to reply with your usual reassurance. But no thoughts were crossing your mind, instead it was aimlessly swimming in his attention. His arms that latched onto you were getting stronger, fingers tightening and burrowing into the narrow space between your tactical gear and shirt. His pupils were blown out, puppy-like as they searched you. But you couldn’t reply, not when you were drinking him in like he was to you. Your silence started to become overwhelming, crashing against Graves’ confidence and his smile fell, bravado collapsing with it.

“No good?” He faltered, letting his head hang low. He let out a quiet curse under his breath. “You put up with a lot of Shadow bullshit, both from them and me… I got lost in the moment.”

His attention turns to his hands that are on your arms. The pads of his thumbs rub your shirt fabric soothingly before dropping his hands to his sides. He gives you one final reassuring pat on the back, half-hearted and lacking its usual strength.

“I misread us,” he pursed his lips as he reflected, eventually shaking his head and tutting his lips disapprovingly at himself. “This is on me.”

“What?” You force yourself out of your stupor upon noticing Graves’ dejected form. You hurriedly try to pick him up, now you were the one putting your hands on his shoulders. “No, I just- I didn’t expect it. It was a surprise.”

“… you like surprises?” He looked up at you through his lashes, eyes brimming full of hope. You sometimes forget he’s your superior when he dials up his boyish charm.

“If they’re all like that then yes.”

“Then there’s plenty more where that came from, darlin'.”

His smug grin was back in full force, he only allowed himself a split second to memorise your shocked expression before turning away so you couldn’t respond. He rouses the rest of the Shadows up with an authoritative clear of the throat. He stands tall, back to the restrained commander role but not without a hand sneaking up to settle on the small of your back. Even as he assumed his professional role once again, the zeal in his voice was unmatched.

“Excellent work all ‘round boys. Let’s bring this aircraft back home.”

There were affirmative responses all round, but a curious Shadow couldn’t help but poke their head out of their station.

“So, uh, Graves. Are you and Chief a thing now?”

“Speak outta line like that again and you’re on cleanin’ duty for the next month, Sergeant.”

“… yup-yup.”

Call of Duty Masterlist