#and i'll do the challenge for today either today or tomorrow

[incorrectbatfam]

Do the batfamily members ever get too into their undercover work? (Undercover in an office and theyre worried about spreadsheets, working in a warehouse and coming home complaining about missing parts)

Bruce: Status updates on your undercover missions. Dick, you first. What have you got down at the docks?

Dick: I haven't confirmed the Killer Croc sightings yet, but more importantly, our catch hasn't been measuring up to last year's. Tuna we're doing okay on, but the salmon population seems to be on the low end. I've contacted the Department of Wildlife and Fisheries but it'll be another 3-5 business days before they can come down and check it out.

Bruce: At least you're doing something to help. Jason?

Jason: Class was okay. I think the kids are warming up to me as their substitute while Mrs. Maloney is out on maternity leave. The average on the last vocabulary quiz was 83.53% so either I'm doing my job right or they need to be challenged. I'm worried about Tristan Lancy, though. He's normally a good student but his grades have been dropping recently and his parents don't seem like safe people to tell. I'll talk to him tomorrow and try to pair him up with a peer tutor if he needs it.

Bruce: Also see if he has any alternate contacts besides his parents. Tim, any updates at the chemical plant?

Tim: If by updates you mean OSHA violations, I could go on all week. We got a batch of new recruits today and they were just thrown into the work—no PPE, no safety training, nothing. This is what happens when you place production over employee well-being. I'm gonna file a complaint after this meeting. Also, I think the union will have something to say about the manager cutting people's lunch breaks short.

Bruce: I see. Damian? Please tell me you found something volunteering at the zoo.

Damian: Depends on how you define "found." While I have not obtained evidence of a mutant larvae black market, I did help some of the animals at the sanctuary make progress with their recovery. Bobo the monkey is healing from his broken arms and we're gradually getting him re-acclimated to climbing higher surfaces. Suzie the black bear was born a little prematurely but seems to be catching up to her peers in terms of growth. Lastly, we got a grant for additional wildcat research and enrichment. As an aside, we are having an educational seminar on European mountain goats this Friday at 3:30 and I expect all of you to be there.

Bruce: I'll put that on our calendars. Steph?

Steph: It's not really undercover work for me, just work. Anyway, yes the newest Batburger location is being used for money laundering. But I really need to vent about the customers for a sec. We don't open until 10 and at 9:30 this morning some moron was banging on our door demanding Jokerized cheese fries. Then right in the middle of the lunch rush, Janie got sick so I had to fill in as the cashier and it was hell. After that, I had to step in between a fight at the drive-thru because the customer claimed we only gave him nine pieces of his ten-piece Robin nuggets and tried to beat up the kid who took his order. And to top it all off, an entire high school hockey team came in five minutes before closing.

Bruce: Cass?

Cass, blowing balloons: Can't talk. Arranging bat mitzvah.

Bruce: Duke, you're my last hope.

Duke: Margie's bringing a peanut butter chocolate cake to the bake sale. I swiped her recipe and we can easily beat her. Her ganache is way too watery and just runs off the top of the cake, which isn't even leveled. She's also trying to do something with a raspberry filling that isn't working at all. It's like she couldn't decide on what to bring. The bake sale committee also asked if we can bring some apple pies because the original baker has to go out of town for a family emergency. I think we'll win if we bring them with some ice cream and a touch of caramel, even though this isn't a contest.

Bruce: Thank you. At least our most critical case has been taken care of.

Barbara: ...I'll save my book launch for later.

[girlgenius1111]

I want to be here.

part 3!!!

no warnings... i don't think.

You sat on your couch, staring at your phone resting on the coffee table. It was opened to your messages with Ona. You had barely texted in 6 years, only sending happy birthday's back and forth. Today, though, sat a message sent from you.

-Are you okay? I hope nothing we did made you uncomfortable. Not that you had to stay. I just want to make sure that you're okay.

It was marked delivered. There was no response. You'd only sent it an hour ago, and it was possible Ona had just gone home to sleep. But you didn't know when she'd left, how she got home. You were worried. And, as much as you wished you weren't, you were hurt. You felt... icky. Used. You knew Ona, and you knew she wouldn't just fuck you to get back at you, or just for fun. There was a small part of you, however, that felt like it would have made sense for her to do either of those things.

It's not like she could really have still feelings for you, if she ever did. She was Ona. The human embodiment of sunshine. A laugh that brought a smile to anyone who heard it's face. She was perfect, or as close as a person could get. And you were just... you. Nothing special. Nothing compared to her.

You pulled yourself out of the familiar spiral when your phone buzzed. You felt nauseous as you picked your phone up, Ona's caller ID flashing across the screen. Hand shaking slightly, you answered.

"Hello?" You tried to keep your voice level.

"Hey, I'm fine, I'm sorry I left like that. I just needed to get my head on straight." She didn't sound okay, she sounded like she'd been crying.

"No, it's okay. I was just worried, wanted to make sure you were safe." There was so much more you wanted to say, but you stuck to simple sentences, simple statements.

"Yeah, I'm good. I just kind of freaked out. Not because I felt pressured or anything, I just... got scared." You were relieved at that but still, she sounded slightly choked, like every word to you was a challenge. You could hear the murmur of someone else's voice next to her, but you couldn't make out the words.

Suddenly, you needed to get off the phone. You were convinced she regretted it, regretted you, and the rejection that hadn't actually happened yet felt suffocating. "It's fine. I get it. I messed things up, and I shouldn't have let it go this far. I'll see you at practice tomorrow."

You tried to hang up, feeling a lump in your throat as you spoke, but Ona's frantic voice stopped you.

"No! Y/n, no. Please don't run again. I know that's insanely hypocritical considering what I did this morning, but please. Can we please just talk?" She sounded panicked, and you felt too guilty to tell her no. You squeezed your eyes shut, forcing tears out of them, wondering how she still had you wrapped around her finger, so many years later.

"Okay. Do you want me to come over?"

"Um. I'm actually at Alexia's. Don't be mad, I told her what happened, I just needed advice. Can I come to you?"

That shouldn't have surprised you. It made sense. Alexia was the biggest pusher of team cohesion. If people had a problem with each other, she made them work it out. She clearly had told Ona to talk to you, to tell you that it was a mistake in person, so there wasn't any tension.

"Yeah, that's fine. I'll see you soon." You hung up before she could respond, leaning back against the couch, trying to pull yourself together. You wiped the tears off your face harder than necessary, and took a couple deep breaths.

Ona was going to come over, and tell you that you guys made a mistake. That was it. There was no other option. And you had to be fine with it, because this was your fault. If you'd handled the situation differently when you were 18, maybe things would be different, but they weren't. There was no conceivable way that Ona would want you.

You must have sat thinking longer than you thought because suddenly the doorbell rang, and you jumped to your feet, masochistically excited to see Ona even if you were sure she was about to break your heart.

----

The 2 of you sat on opposite sides of your couch, silently. She'd been crying, you could tell, and she was wearing clothes that were obviously Alexia's. You ignored how good she looked even in a t-shirt and sweatpants that were too big on her. Her hair was up in a messy bun, a few pieces falling free. You were about to speak, to tell her it was alright, you knew what she was here to say, but she beat you to it. Her words surprised you.

"I was hoping maybe you could tell me what happened on my 18th birthday. After I kissed you." Her eyes met yours, and her gaze was curious.

"What makes you think something happened?" You hated how defensive you sounded, but this wasn't where you thought the conversation was heading and you didn't think you wanted to talk about this.

"Well you took off, moved out of your parents house a couple weeks later, and pretty much stopped speaking to me. You wouldn't do that without a reason." Her voice was gentle, as if you were fragile and you were so, so confused. Nothing she was saying made any sense.

"You didn't try to talk to me either, Ona." You said it more bitterly than you intended, and suddenly realized that you were kind of angry. Not really with her, but with yourself. For not allowing yourself to lean on her when everything happened with your parents. You hadn't realized, until that moment, how much you had needed her.

"I'm not proud of that." Your eyes snapped up to hers. "I was hurt, when you ran, but I shouldn't have kissed you. You weren't ready, you weren't comfortable with it yet, it was obvious. I pushed you too far, and I assumed you wanted space, and I was hurt, and then. I don't know. It had been too long."

You were really confused now. Baffled. It sounded like she was telling you that she knew you hadn't left because you didn't want her, but because you weren't ready. This whole time, she had understood you better than you'd really understood yourself. You felt tears welling in your eyes again, and you bit your lip, trying to keep everything in.

Ona scooted closer. "Y/n. Can you tell me what happened when you got home that night?" She knew. Of course she did. She had known your parents well, and they weren't shy about their beliefs. And she'd know that something catastrophic must have happened for you to move out at 18.

You couldn't look at her, staring at the coffee table, watching it get blurrier and blurrier as tears continued to gather. Your voice was barely more than a whisper when you spoke, but it still managed to break on every other word. "I told them. They weren't happy. They told me to leave when I turned 18." You stuck to the facts, the bare minimum.

You felt her grab your hand, but you still couldn't bring yourself to look at her.

"I'm so sorry. Fuck. I'm so sorry for all of it. I shouldn't have kissed you, and I shouldn't have just let you pull yourself away. I knew you felt bad about what happened, and I felt bad about what happened, and I didn't know how to fix it. You needed me, and I wasn't there, and I'm so, so sorry y/n.

The tears were really flowing now. Because how was she sitting her, apologizing. To you. For something that was completely your fault. You looked at her then, your eyes meeting hers. They were filled with apologies, regret. She was crying again, and you couldn't help yourself but reach a hand up and gently wipe a tear away with your thumb.

"Oni, you don't have to be sorry. I shouldn't have left. I loved you and I should have been brave enough to tell you that. And I definitely should have been brave enough to try to fix it after. I was a fucking coward, and you deserved so much better than that, than me."

"No." Her voice was suddenly harsh, and you jumped a little, startled. She softened slightly. "No. You were terrified, I could see it on your face. Please don't talk about yourself like that. You didn't do anything wrong. I always knew you had a tougher time with being gay than I did. You needed more time, and there is nothing wrong with that."

She said it so definitively, like it was a fact, not just what she felt. It was... almost convincing. Taking a deep breath, you tried to let her off the hook, still convinced she didn't want you.

"Well. I'm still sorry. I know I ruined us." She shook her head at that.

"You said you loved me. Past tense." Your eyes dropped again, suddenly interested in the tattoo on her arm. She kept talking, undeterred. "I hope it's not past tense. Because I love you. I loved you then, and I love you now. I never stopped. Alexia told me I needed to get my head out of my ass and just tell you, because she says it's obvious that you love me too."

You looked back up at her in shock for a couple seconds. You sounded broken when you spoke again, lower lip trembling. "I don't understand." And you didn't. You were genuinely perplexed at the idea that Ona loved you.

She moved closer to you, taking your face in between her hands gently, forcing you to meet her eyes. You'd never had someone look at you that way before; like she was consumed with love for you.

"I love you. I want you. I didn't leave because I didn't want you, I left because I was I didn't know how to tell you. I just want to be here, y/n. With you. I want tell you that I love you, that you're a good person, and you deserve good things, until you believe it. If you love me, if you want me. I want to be here." She spoke slowly, making sure you heard every word.

You were still surprised. Still kind of confused. A part of you was starting to believe her though. Her words, the way she looked at you, the gentle feel of her hands cradling your face. It didn't leave much room for doubt. She stared at you, and you realized she was waiting for an answer. As if you would say no.

Surging forward, you pressed your lips against hers, kissing her firmly. You pulled back after a second, and you told her what you'd been dying to say since you were a kid.

"I love you, Ona. So much." You were sobbing at this point, and she sighed in relief at your words, pulling you back into her. You smooshed your face into her neck, holding her tightly. She held you just as tightly. You let yourself feel it all then, and you cried into her for a while. She didn't ever let go, running her hands through your hair and whispering reassurances into your ear.

When you were done crying, she was still there. Wiping away the tears with the sleeve of Alexia's sweatshirt. Ona was looking at you so tenderly, so gently. You leaned forward, pressing another kiss to her lips, just because you could. She smiled against you, pulling you to lay down on top of her. You rested your chin on her chest, looking up at her.

"God we're so stupid." She laughed at that, and the sound made you grin, a bigger smile than you'd felt yourself have in a while.

"The stupidest. If we'd just had one conversation, we could have figured this out years ago." She was smiling down at you, still lightly pushing your hair out of your face. "Thank god Alexia convinced me to come back over here. She was so sure you loved me back, she practically dragged me into the car."

"I wonder how she knew," you mused.

"She says you look at me the way Mapi looks at Ingrid, Marta at Caroline. I knew what she meant, but I never saw it. Not until now." You blushed, realizing that you were staring at her, enamored. "She also said Mapi said something to her about you having feelings for me. I think they've been conspiring together."

Your jaw dropped at that, and you were suddenly sure that they had been. "Oh they absolutely have. We should tell them we aren't getting together just to drive them insane."

"Yes, and we aren't speaking to each other. They'll lose their minds. But first, I have something I need to do." She sat you up, and you looked at her, confused.

"What do you ha-" She cut you off, pulling your face into hers in a decisively dirtier way than you'd been kissing. You met her with equal enthusiasm, wrapping your hands around her body, pulling her sit in your lap. Pulling back after a minute, gasping for air, you responded.

"You're right, I think we're busy for the rest of the morning"

"Maybe the rest of the day"

She pulled you back into her, and you kissed her hungrily, taking your time, because neither of you were running this time.

-----

Hope you enjoyed :) not sure if we've seen the last of these 2, but let me know if there's anything specific you want to see.

[rogueddie]

Buckingham, 1,760 words, for @thefreakandthehair’s Spicy Six Winter Challenge, with the prompt; snowball fight.

Winter, and Christmas especially, has always been Robins favorite time of year.

Or, more accurately, it used to be.

With the heavy snow, December of '85 is starting to become the worst month of Robins year. She can't even bring herself to enjoy the snow. Nothing her parents usually do to cheer her up works either.

"Until the roads are cleared, I've got to walk," Steve repeats. "I'm sorry, Robs. Maybe the snow will clear tomorrow."

"Maybe," she reluctantly agrees, ignoring the fact that he'd said the same thing yesterday... and the day before that... and the day before that. "At least we're on shift tonight, right?"

"Oh..."

Steve's tone only fills her with more dread.

"What?"

"Keith called me before you," Steve says. "Family Video is closed for the day. Something about the snow being too much and no one shopping in this weather anyway."

"So, hey, maybe school will be cancelled too," Robin tries, though they both know school won't cancel.

"I'll walk you home from school," Steve offers. "Or we can go back to my house. I still have that cake we made."

"Yeah, alright, whatever. I'll call you at lunch, yeah?"

"Ok. Missing you already, Robs."

"Love you too, Dingus."

Hanging up, she drops her head against the wall with a soft 'thud', grumbling complaints under her breath.

"No Steve today?" Her mother asks.

Robin turns, glaring when she sees the teasing smirk. "No, no Steve today. By the time he clears his driveway, I could have already walked to school and waiting... whatever. It's not a big deal."

"Mhm," her mom hums, chuckling. "Sure it isn't, sweetie."

"It isn't! It's not like we need to be together all the time. We can go one day."

"Your uncle and I used to use those same excuses, you know. We weren't any more convincing than you two. Now, come on, get ready. You'll be late if you don't leave soon."

Reluctant, and groaning, Robin takes the coat her mom holds out for her. She picks her bag up, sat by the door, and sitting on the stairs so she can pull on her boots.

"Don't rush, there's a lot of ice," her mom warns. "And keep your coat zipped up. And-"

"I know, I know. I love you, too. I'll see you later!"

"Bye sweetheart! Be careful!"

The air outside is freezing. It hits Robin like a brick wall when she steps out and, despite her mom's warning, the idea of spending longer is the cold than she needs to is horrifying.

She jogs, careful to avoid patches of roads and sidewalks that look icy.

She makes it most of the way with only a few stumbles before, inevitably, she slips over.

"Oh my god," someone yelps. "Are you ok?!"

Robin flushes, muttering curses, when she realises that, not only did someone see her fall over and eat shit- Chrissy Cunningham saw her fall over.

"I'm- yeah, fine, totally," she chokes out, forcing a laugh.

"Here," Chrissy pants a little, having ran over to her, offering a hand.

Robin takes her hand, a little surprised at how easily Chrissy pulls her up.

"Thanks," she says, trying to smile.

"Are you sure you're ok?" Chrissy frowns, looking her over. "We have a first aid kit if-"

"Oh, no, that's not... I am ok, really."

"if you're sure." Chrissy shifts, glancing back to the drive. "I'd over to drive you the rest of the way, but..."

Robin leans to look around her, wincing when she sees the drive.

The snow is piled high in the driveway and, despite how much has been cleared, there's no way that Chrissy is going to clear the rest in time.

"Why don't we walk together instead?" Robin suggests.

She almost takes it back, wincing at her own boldness, but Chrissy lights up.

"Yeah? I mean, yeah, let's! Lemme grab my bag, ok?"

"Ok, yeah, that's fine."

Robin wraps her arms around herself, starting to step side to side in an attempt to keep warm while she waits.

Luckily, it doesn't take Chrissy long.

"Ok, I'm ready!" She smiles. She pulls the strap to her back a little further onto her shoulder, the polite smile faltering. "Oh, are you cold?"

"Uh, yeah, but I'm fine, really, it-"

"No, don't worry," Chrissy twists so she can root through her bag. "I've got a spare... aha!"

She pulls out a scarf that's mostly green and white. She wraps it around Robins neck before she can protest.

"You can give it back later," Chrissy easily dismisses, starting to walk down the street. She raises an eyebrow when she glances back at Robin. "Come on!"

Robin stumbles a little in her rush to catch up.

"Careful," Chrissy says, taking hold of Robins right arm and cradling it in both of hers. She glances down at her boots. "Do you have enough grip with those?"

"What? I mean, yeah, these are great, they're sturdy and build for ice- mom got them specifically because they have great grip. The problem is with me, I'm not good at running. Like, I have terrible co-ordination- Steve is always joking about how I run like a windmill and, yeah, I do, but he learnt to walk slower than I did so really, he's the weird one here- I mean, what type of baby tries to crawl backwards, right?"

Robin finally pauses for breath. She glances at Chrissy, who is struggling to stiffle her giggles.

"Steve Harrington?" Chrissy asks, when she finally realizes that Robin isn't going to continue.

"Uh... yeah... don't tell anyone I told you that."

"My lips are sealed."

"No, really, that's- I think he told me that in confidence or something, I shouldn't have told you that, I just can't stop rambling when I get nervous around- and you're- oh god. I'm shutting up now. No more conversations. We're just... having a nice- silent- walk to school together. Just... me and Chrissy Cunningham. Jesus."

"You say that like I'm scary."

"Well, I mean..."

That only makes Chrissy giggle harder. "You think I'm scary? Really?"

She leans heavily into Robins side, one of her hands curling up around Robins bicep. She's looking up at Robin with an expression that's painfully familiar.

It's the same expression she's seen girls pull out when they're hitting on Steve. The same moves too.

But what would Steve do? Robin thinks, panicking.

She's grown so used to old conversations with Steve repeating in her head, his bad jokes and questionable advice a constant and welcome companion.

But, now that she actually needs him, he's nowhere to be found.

After a few seconds of panicking, Robin is desperate to break the tension that is quickly turning from flirty to awkward.

She ducks down, grabbing a handfull of snow, and throwing it against Chrissys coat.

Robin jerks up, standing stiff upright, frozen and stunned at herself, whilst Chrissy is equally frozen, staring at Robin with her mouth agape.

It doesn't take long for the shock and confusion to vanish though, and soon Chrissys grin turns wicked, a dangerous glint in her eyes.

"I'm sorry?" Robin tries.

"Are you?"

'That means she's flirting, just... in a more playful way', Steve voice finally rings in her head. That day had been confusing for Robin- she hadn't known if the girl had been flirting with him or bullying him. 'I kinda prefer it. It's nice to know you can roughhouse a little with a girl, you know? It can be fun. Sexy'.

That had been one of his more successful dates, Robin remembers. He'd gushed about her for the entire week between their first and second date. She can't remember what went wrong, but he was confident that-

Chrissy ducks down, quick, scooping up a pile of snow with both hands.

Nope.

She takes off running, barely darting out of the way of the snowball in time.

"Hey!" Chrissy yells after her. "Get back here!"

But she's laughing as she says it.

So, almost tripping onto her face as she ducks down, she scoops up another ball of snow. She turns, aim going a little wild with how fast she keeps running.

She yelps, stumbling a little heavier when the snowball sent back in return smacks directly in the back of her head.

"Careful!" Chrissy yells.

"Then don't aim for my head!"

"It's not my fault it's an easy target!"

"Hey!"

Robin scoops more snow, turning and sliding to a stop. Chrissy doesn't have enough time to stop, but she does duck out of the way so it hits the side of her head instead of directly in her face.

She realizes her mistake a second too late.

Chrissy, unable to slow her momentum on the same patch of ice that Robin had slid across, slams straight into Robin.

Robin winces when her back slams into the ground, the snow doing nothing to cushion the fall. She feels lucky that her head didn't also slam into the ground.

"Oops?" Chrissy says, pushing herself up slightly but making no move to get off her.

"No, it's ok, that's on me."

"Yeah..." Chrissy trails off, voice weak- distracted.

Robin holds as still as she can, irrationally worried that if she moves then she'll startle Chrissy out of whatever moment she's having that has her looking down at Robins lips, cheeks flushing.

For a moment, Robin is sure that Chrissy is going to kiss her. Her eyes flutter, shifting up so her face is above Robins, tilting her head and starting lean down, to-

Someone wolf whistles, loud.

Chrissy jerks back, throwing herself off of Robin- but she is immediately glaring at the two boys, laughing and leering at them.

"Fuck off!" Chrissy yells. "Jerks!"

She ignores them when they try yelling back, instead focusing on Robin and helping her to her feet.

"Ignore them," Chrissy mumbles, grabbing hold of her hand and gently dragging her along, walking fast. She glances back, seeming to relax. "What assholes."

Robin glances back, relieved when she realizes that they're turned around and started walking in the opposite direction.

"Yeah," she agrees, turning back to stare at Chrissy, awed. "You're so brave."

"What? Oh, no, I'm not."

"Yeah, you are! Scary, too."

"I am not!"

"Scared those two."

Chrissy huffs, leaning in so their shoulders bump together.

"You're something else," Robin continues, emboldened. "It's impressive. You're, like, actually cool. Not just popular kid cool, but... truly, really, awesome."

"Shut up." She's mumbling, but she's smiling. She's blushing. She's looking up at Robin through her eyelashes.

"Nope," Robin grins.

[chiharuhashibira]

I AM SO EXCITED, I HAD THIS IDEA WHEN I WATCHED A SHORT ON YOUTUBE!! So you know the prank of not saying "I love you" back to your lover? How about S/o was challenged to do that prank for 24 hours by their friends, but because S/o loves their lover so much, they instead kiss their lover very passionately or say I adore you (or both, hehe) to them instead!! That way, S/o can still show and say their love for their lover, but not fail the challenge at the same time!! I mean, if they win their friends would pay for everything they want for the whole day! Also, S/o's lover is either very flustered and/or stunned during the whole moment. Maybe getting a little spicy? But nothing too much! Request for Tanjiro Kamado! And/Or anyone else you want to write with this! - 🌓Anon

Got this request back in Sept 1 hahaha but yeah, due to lotsa things, I will do it now! 💓

But I want it to be drabbles about the Kamaboko squad hihihi

𝓜𝓪𝓼𝓽𝓮𝓻𝓵𝓲𝓼𝓽

𝑻𝒆𝒍𝒍 𝒎𝒆 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒍𝒐𝒗𝒆 𝒎𝒆

𝐀𝐠𝐞𝐝 𝐔𝐩 𝐓𝐚𝐧𝐣𝐢𝐫𝐨 𝐊𝐚𝐦𝐚𝐝𝐨, 𝐙𝐞𝐧𝐢𝐭𝐬𝐮 𝐀𝐠𝐚𝐭𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐚, & 𝐈𝐧𝐨𝐬𝐮𝐤𝐞 𝐇𝐚𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐛𝐢𝐫𝐚 𝐗 𝐆𝐍 𝐃𝐞𝐦𝐨𝐧 𝐒𝐥𝐚𝐲𝐞𝐫!𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

Content Warnings: Full of Fluff ^^

🌸𝐓𝐚𝐧𝐣𝐢𝐫𝐨 𝐊𝐚𝐦𝐚𝐝𝐨🌸

"Y/N, don't you really want to say you love me?"

"Eh, Tanjiro, we need to win this dare."

Tanjiro sighed and laid his back on the engawa. He stared at the sky, but then you blocked his sight when you suddenly kissed him on the lips. He sat up with his eyes widening. He can't believe that you just smooched him there.

"Y/N..."

"I can't say that word, but I guess I can still be sweet with you."

You gave him a smile, which eventually made him blush. He suddenly went near your face, with your noses almost touching. It was your turn to blush hard as Tanjiro cupped your chin and caressed your cheek with his tongue.

"I think that'll be good enough for today." He whispered and finally locked your lips in a heated kiss, which eventually led you to bite his lower lip.

Tanjiro pulled out of the kiss and stared into your eyes. He gave you a childish grin and pinched your cheek. "No biting for you. Let's just continue that tomorrow when the dare ends."

"Continue what?" You said, blushing harder. Tanjiro planted a quick kiss on your lips before lying back down.

"You know what I mean. I love you, Y/N."

You embraced Tanjiro tightly, making sure that even if you can't tell him that you love him, he will feel it.

🌸𝐙𝐞𝐧𝐢𝐭𝐬𝐮 𝐀𝐠𝐚𝐭𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐚🌸

"Don't you love me anymore? Y/N, answer me!"

"I do! But you know I need to win this dare Zenitsu."

"But 24 hours is so long! I want to hear you tell me that you love me now."

"What if... I just do this?"

You pinned Zenitsu down on the futon, which eventually shut him up. "What are you doing?" He asked, but you didn't answer through words. You straddled over your blonde boyfriend and kissed him passionately on the lips.

He eagerly kissed back, squeezing your bum, which made you giggle. "You're so impatient, Zenitsu." You teased, which made him blush harder than he is now.

You caressed his face and laid down beside him, making sure that you were cuddling him. Apparently, Zenitsu loves to be the small spoon.

"I love you, Y/N... Kiss me again, please."

"Mmm, yes, Zenitsu. I will."

You couldn't resist the puppy's look in his eyes, so you leaned in again and kissed him on the lips. His hands worked on your body as your lips were locked together. You felt your cheeks getting hotter with the next words that came out of his mouth.

"You can't say you love me today, but I guess we can do it."

You nodded, and that immediately made him smirk and pin you down on the futon. And the rest is history.

🌸𝐈𝐧𝐨𝐬𝐮𝐤𝐞 𝐇𝐚𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐛𝐢𝐫𝐚🌸

"Either tell me you love me right now, or I'll force you to do it the hard way."

"I can't, Inosuke. If I do that, we'll lose! I know you hate losing, right?"

Inosuke rolled his eyes. The ticking of the clock makes him more impatient, but then, yes, he doesn't want to lose. So then he just sat up from the futon and crossed his arms, acting mad at you.

That made you sigh, and so you went on his back and slowly massaged his shoulders, which immediately made him relax. "It's only eight more hours before the dare ends... If you'll wait longer, I might reward you with something more than those three words."

You suggested it, which made Inosuke blush as he turned to look at you. You stared at his shining green eyes and kissed him on the lip. The man didn't protest; instead, he pulled you closer and went on top of you.

"Kiss me again." He said this as he stared intensely into your eyes. In times like this, you can't help but adore Inosuke so much. "I lo—"

"Nope! We'll lose if you say that! Just kiss me again."

He said that, stopping you from saying those three words. But then, yes, you finally kissed Inosuke, which made him smile as you both pulled out. Inosuke laid down beside you and hugged you.

"I'll make you say you love me a hundred times tomorrow, Y/N."

You blushed and buried your face in the crook of his neck, inhaling his manly scent. "I know you will, and I can't wait for it."

𝑰 𝒉𝒐𝒑𝒆 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒍𝒊𝒌𝒆𝒅 𝒊𝒕!

Thank you so muuuuch!!

I know these days, I am slow to upload but I am still here~

See you on my next story 🌸

~𝓒𝓱𝓲𝓱𝓪𝓻𝓾-𝓬𝓱𝓪𝓷🌸

[sydsaint]

Summary: The reader finds herself in the path of Austin Gunn. But luckily for her, she's friends with HOOK. And he's more than happy to defend her.

You've been at the gym for a few hours now working on your cardio in peace. But just when it looks like you've managed to get a full workout without being bothered by anyone, Austin Gunn shows up out of the blue. 

"Y/N, what's up, babe?" Austin greets you with a smug grin. 

"Austin." You reply dryly and pull your headphones down to be polite. "What's up?" You ask him. 

Austin continues to grin and stands way too close for your comfort. "It just so happens that I was looking for a gym partner." He informs you. "You free by any chance, Y/N?"

"I actually just finished up." You reply. "I've been here for a few hours already." You add. 

Austin nods and you stand in awkward silence for a moment before either of you speak again. "Are you sure?" Austin asks you. "I can be pretty useful, you know? Teach you a lot of new maneuvers on the mat." He adds in a suggestive tone. 

Before you can politely decline Austin's offer, you find Tyler at your side with his chest puffed out. "She's fine, man." He stares a hole into Austin. "We were just leaving." He grabs your arm gently and starts walking off. 

Tyler keeps his hand on your arm until you are both out in the parking lot. He finally eases up when he's 100% sure that Austin is gone. 

"Thanks, Tyler." You flash a thankful smile toward your friend and savior. "I didn't even know you were in the gym today." You add. 

"Yeah, I just got here a few minutes ago." Tyler nods. "I saw Austin bothering you so I figured I'd swoop in and save you." He grins. 

You giggle and lean forward for a hug. "My knight in shining armor." You joke. "I'm headed out for the day. But I'll see you tomorrow night for Dynamite, right?" You ask him. 

"Yeah, catch you later, Y/N." Tyler nods and releases you from his side hug. 

You walk across the lot to your car and Tyler watches you go. He heads back inside once you're gone and runs into Austin again once he's back inside. 

"I'd watch your back if I were you, pretty boy," Austin warns Tyler with a scowl. 

"Yeah?" Naturally, Tyler doesn't back down from the challenge. "Or what?" He stares right back at Austin. 

Silence falls over the pair for a moment before Austin huffs and walks off mumbling something to himself. Satisfied that he's won, Tyler goes back to his original plan to work out for a few hours. 

The next afternoon you are backstage at Dynamite waiting for your match against Britt Baker when Austin and Colten show up to bother you. 

"Oh, Y/N! Your favorite guy is here to see you." Austin saunters up to you. 

"Austin." You greet him with the same dryness as before. "Hey..."  

With Colten at his side, Austin is able to back you into a corner and bother you to his heart's content. And you've still got a while before your match, so you're stuck for the foreseeable future. 

"So what do you say after the show we go out and have some fun?" Austin asks you, leaning down as close as he can to your face. 

"Austin...I don't..." You swallow hard and try to come up with the right way to turn him down. 

Suddenly, a hand grabs your arm and pulls you away from Austin. You stumble back and find Tyler coming to your aid once again. You go to thank him again but Tyler gives you a small push toward the tunnel. "Go get Britt." He nods to the tunnel. "They won't follow you." 

You nod and head out to the ring, leaving Tyler behind with the Gunn brothers. You and Britt have a match that lasts around 10 minutes. 

Back on the other side of the tunnel, Tyler faces down Austin and Colten. "What? Was I not being clear enough for you yesterday at the gym?" He asks Austin. "Y/N's not interested. Leave her alone." 

"You know, you're really starting to get on my nerves." Austin sneers. 

"Yeah, mine too." Colten agrees. 

A fight breaks out and the three men go at it with one another. 

You come backstage from your match with Britt about ten minutes later and find a whole bunch of staff members swarming around what seems to be the aftermath of a fight. You shoulder past a couple of them and spot Tyler, his knuckles and hands smeared in blood. 

"Tyler?!" You shoulder past a few more people and Tyler turns around when he hears your voice. You make it to his side and confront him. "What the hell happened?" You ask him. "You're covered in blood." 

"None of it's mine," Tyler replies and nods to the other side of the room. 

On the other side of the room full of staff, you catch a glimpse of Austin and Colten being drug off by a few members of security. Austin's face is covered in blood, most of it coming from his nose by the looks of it. Colten also has blood smeared on his face, but it's not as bad as his brothers. 

"You fought both of them?" You turn back to Tyler and he shrugs. 

"They started it." He assures you. "All I did was ask them to leave you alone." He insists. 

You shake your head in an attempt to hide the smile forming on it. "Right, I'm sure." You grab his arm. "Come on, you've gotta get cleaned up before people start asking questions." 

"Eh, I'm not worried about it." Tyler shrugs but follows you anyway. 

"And why is that?" You reply sharply. 

"You'll vouch for me," Tyler replies with a confident grin. 

You laugh and shake your head again, knowing that he's right. 

[hunieday]

Momo i-HAKE! Rabbit TV - Part 1: i-HAKE! ~Momo’s episode 1~

Episode 1 - Episode 2 - Episode 3

Please note that I am not a professional translator and I'm only doing this to share the side materials to those who cannot access them, if you notice any mistakes please let me know nicely. Enjoy!

Momo: Yahoo, everyone~! It's Momo from Re:vale!

Momo: Today I'm visiting a community center in Momoharu Town for the “i-HAKE! ~Idol dispatch~" project!

Momo: This town has a big port nearby and is famous for its seafood bowls~

Staff: Momo-san, you sound like you know a lot about this town. Have you been here before?

Momo: I saw its market featured on TV before and thought it looked nice. The rumors were right, it sure is a lovely town!

Momo: Don’t tell me, is the request related to “that”?

Staff: What do you mean by "that"?

Momo: Fish! I could try my hand at butchering a tuna fish for example!?

Staff: Ohh! That would be worth witnessing…!

Momo: Oh, that reaction… Did I actually get it right!?

Momo: Ah, but wait, don’t you need a certificate to process tuna?

Momo: In that case, if Momo-chan needs one... does that mean I’m gonna be shooting here long-term!? Then I’m gonna guess my support guests are either the intelligent Iori or Sougo!

Staff: Momo-san, your deductive skills are sharp!

Momo: Fufu, you can call me the Great Detective Momo-chan!

Staff: Well then, let's call your two support guests on stage to answer your question!

Nanase Riku: Hello, I'm your support guest, Izumi Iori. I like cool and sharp things.

Yaotome Gaku: Likewise, I'm Osaka Sougo. Nice to meet you...Is this how Osaka acts...?

Momo: Yay! bingo! ...or not, it's Riku and Gaku!

Momo: You two found your groove right from the start!

Nanase Riku: Ehehe, that was a good Iori impression, wasn’t it? I’ll introduce myself properly, I'm Nanase Riku! I'll do my best to support you, Momo-san!

Yaotome Gaku: Ahaha. Sorry my impression didn’t go through as well. I'm Yaotome Gaku, I’ll be your support guest.

Momo: Thank you for being here with us today! I feel like I have the strength of a hundred men with you two here!

Momo: By the way, is the request to process tuna...

Nanase Riku: No it’s not!

Yaotome Gaku: Definitely not that.

Momo: You shot it down immediately!? You junior idols are ruthless...!

Yaotome Gaku: Personally I'd like to try it, even if it sounds challenging. 

Momo: Seeing Gaku dismantle a fish on screen sounds exciting!

Nanase Riku: I wanna see that!

Momo: Let me know if you decide to take on that!

Yaotome Gaku: Ahaha!

Momo: Alright, let's get back to the real request... What is it?

Nanase Riku: Alright! On the count of three...

Nanase Riku & Yaotome Gaku: "We want you to perform a traditional Japanese drum dance at a festival!"

Momo: A Japanese drum dance!?

Staff: Yes! Now, let's call the leader of the local youth group who made the request! Please come in!

Youth Group Leader: Heya, nice to meet you! ...Whoa! It really is Momo-san from Re:vale! Amazing! Your idol aura is off the charts!

Youth Group Leader: Woah, Riku-kun and Gaku-kun look so cool too! Can I please take a picture later?

Nanase Riku: Wah... Y-Yes! Sure thing!

Yaotome Gaku: Haha, aren’t you quite energetic.

Momo: He's so friendly!

Youth Group Leader: Thanks! It’s not just me, all the guys in our youth group pour their souls into this festival!

Momo: Wow! And you’re inviting us to a festival this spirited? I'm even more excited now!

Momo: Riku! Gaku! Let's make it more exciting together!

Nanase Riku & Yaotome Gaku: Yeah!

Momo: First of all, could you tell us what kind of festival it is?

Youth Group Leader: It's an annual festival in our community! It's called the "Autumn Leaves Festival," and it's a traditional event we hold in autumn.

Momo: What, the day after tomorrow!? So we only have two days left!?

Youth Group Leader: I'm sorry it's right around the corner...!

Yaotome Gaku: We can handle it. Men burn brighter in the face of adversity.

Nanase Riku & Momo: So cool...!

Youth Group Leader: Everyone in town looks forward to the Autumn Leaves Festival even if it’s not a huge one with fireworks. The Japanese drum performance is the highlight of the event and it gets the crowd excited every year!

Momo: Sounds awesome! But can we really be in charge of such an important part of it?

Youth Group Leader: That's exactly why! This year is the Autumn Leaves Festival’s 100th anniversary so we wanna make it even more spectacular than ever.

Youth Group Leader: Momo-san, you're great at hyping up the crowds either at concerts or on TV. So everyone’s energy is surely gonna skyrocket if you’re there performing at the festival!

Youth Group Leader: We'd be very happy if you could help us...!

Nanase Riku & Momo & Yaotome Gaku: ...!

Momo: I can't help but get fired up when you put it like that!

Nanase Riku: Yes! And a Japanese drum performance sounds like it’s gonna be a lot of fun anyways…!

Yaotome Gaku: yeah, I’m pumped!

Momo: Alright then, let’s give it our best for the big performance the day after tomorrow! Let’s fire up the Autumn Leaves Festival with the best performance!!

Nanase Riku & Yaotome Gaku: Yeah!!!

Momo: Oh, these outfits look really cool!

Momo: Don’t they look like we could put on a live performance wearing them?

Nanase Riku: Wow...! Momo-san, it looks so good on you! You too, Yaotome-san!

Yaotome Gaku: You too, Nanase. I think it’d be quite the artistic portrait to play Japanese drums in these fits.

Youth Group Leader: Everyone looks great in those outfits! So cool!

Momo: Thank you!

Youth Group Leader: Wow... I felt my heart race when you winked at me...! I’m kinda nervous...!

Yaotome Gaku: As expected of you, Momo-san. Your fan service is top-notch.

Momo: Wearing this outfit activated my switch.

Youth Group Leader: The outfits are fantastic, but the drums over there are what’s making me really excited!

Momo: I'm itching to practice already!

Youth Group Leader: I’m glad to see you so motivated, Momo-san! I’ll call the drum instructor right away.

Youth Group Leader: The Autumn Leaves Festival would be nothing without him! He's been playing the drums for 50 years! Here’s our instructor, Gen-san!

Gen-san: Nice to meet you all. I'm looking forward to working with you.

Nanase Riku & Momo & Yaotome Gaku: Nice to meet you!

Nanase Riku: The fact that you’ve been playing for 50 years is seriously impressive…!

Gen-san: No, it's nothing. I just happened to pick up the drumsticks at my first Autumn Leaves Festival, and before I knew it, I reached this age.

Youth Group Leader: Everyone who performs the Japanese drum in this town learned the basics from Gen-san. I was still a kid when he first taught me...

Nanase Riku: It has quite a long history...!

Youth Group Leader: Of course! It's a traditional performance that’s been passed down through generations during the festival after all!

Yaotome Gaku: It's a big responsibility...

Momo: Yeah, but it makes me even more motivated. We'll put our hearts into playing the drum!

Gen-san: Thank you. I'm glad to hear that.

Gen-san: By the way, have any of you played the Japanese drum before?

Momo: I played a little during an elementary school sports festival... But I’ve never been taught properly.

Yaotome Gaku: I'm on the same boat over here...Oh, I did practice while playing a few rounds of taiko games before though… 

Momo: I'm good at those games!

Yaotome Gaku: You like playing games, don’t you?. ...But this might be different from the real deal…?

Momo: I seeeee! Yuki is complete ass at playing racing games and often ends up driving in reverse, but his real-life driving skills are top-notch…

Nanase Riku: I used to play with toy drums we had at home when I was little...

Gen-san: I understand. Let's start by learning how to stand.

Gen-san: Each one of you stands in front of a drum.

Gen-san: Momo-kun, you stand in front of the large drum in the center. Riku-kun and Gaku-kun, please stand in front of the medium-sized ones on each side.

Nanase Riku: Momo-san's drum is huge...!

Yaotome Gaku: It’s really impactful! It really feels like the main one.

Nanase Riku: Momo-san is in the center!

Momo: The center, huh! Re:vale doesn't really have that so it’s refreshing, I’m kinda happy!.

Nanase Riku: Well, us three are a special unit right now so we'll support you, Momo-san!

Momo: Thanks, Riku! Since I have you two supporting me, I need to do my best too.

Gen-san: Hmmm... I was going to teach you how to stand but you already look graceful. Maybe you should pull your shoulders back a bit to open your chests?

Momo: Opening our chest, huh…Like this? 

Gen-san: Ah… Yes, exactly. Your posture is good and so is your intuition. Riku-kun and Gaku-kun have a very upright standing posture, too.

Gen-san: And now, first bow to the drum before holding the drumsticks... 

Nanase Riku & Momo & Yaotome Gaku: ...

Gen-san: ...Oho. You've already done it.

Nanase Riku: Ah...! I’m sorry for doing it without your instruction...!

Yaotome Gaku: My body moved on its own...

Momo: Ahaha... I just wanted to greet the drums properly since they'll be helping us at the festival.

Gen-san: Fufu. No need to apologize… There's nothing more to say about your readiness.

Momo: ...Thank you very much!

Gen-san: Well then, you can finally pick up the drumsticks and start playing.

Gen-san: I apologize for the lack of practice time, but I'll teach you everything I can. So please look forward to the Japanese drum performance.

Nanase Riku & Momo & Yaotome Gaku: Yes! We're looking forward to working with you!

Momo: I'll pour my heart and soul into it so that the townsfolk can also call this year's Autumn Leaves Festival a good one!

End of Episode 1.

[elly99]

Minji's Playlist

Just a fun little challenge: include lyrics from each of the songs in Minji's playlist at least once in a story. Sorry if there's too much Korean. She chose a lot of Korean songs ><

"Your flight is tomorrow?!"

"Yeah, baby! I always send you my schedule in advance, silly."

"I know. It's just I... Time flies by so quickly. Thought I had more time with you. I'll miss you."

"I'll miss you, too, sweetie." She kisses your cheek, comforting you in the way she knows you love. "I know I always come and go but it's out of my control. Most of the time. But you know I always make time to see you when I can, right?"

Yes, you did know. Because here she was, at your place, spending time with you the night before leaving for Japan.

"I do. And I really appreciate that. I know it's hard for you."

"But it's even harder being away from you," she says, taking your hand with a loving smile. "I know you don't wanna be alone, baby, and I wish I could be there for you. All the time. I hate not being together, too. So I'll always try my hardest to be with you when I can."

"You're too sweet, Min. What did I do to deserve you?"

"What do you mean, babe? I could ask you the same thing."

"No way. You're the goddess here. I'm just... me."

"Well, you," she says as she boops your nose, "you light up my world like nobody else. You don't know you're beautiful and it's so cute."

"Ugh, Minjiii!" you scream into your hands as they instinctively come up to cover your face.

She giggles at how her words leave you in shambles. "I don't why you're being shy."

"Cuz I'm really not like you, babe. You're just... out there. Inhumanly beautiful."

"Oh, stop it!"

"No, really! Like whenever I see you my heart just... 내 마음 말랑해, you know? I go crazy just looking at you cuz, like, your face, bro. 네 모습 아주 그냥 아찔해. For real."

"에이 무슨 소리야?" She quickly stands up. "Come here. Come and dance with me. I want my arms about you. I need to tell you something."

Doing as you're told, you get up and walk timidly into her arms. She wraps them around your neck.

"Ok. Do you know what I'm about to tell you?"

"No..."

"Well, actually, it's more like a reminder. I'm gonna remind you of how I confessed to you."

Immediately you blush at the memory. You try to look down but she catches your forehead with hers.

"I'm right here, baby. Look at me."

Eye contact with Kim Minji this close for this long was impossible. You shut your eyes, blushing like mad.

"Do you remember what I said when I confessed to you?"

"How could I forget?"

"I'll never forget it either. Because I'd been planning it for weeks. I had all the words I wanted to say laid out in my head but when I stood in front of you to tell you, I was a huge mess. I still remember it all now."

She pulls you back and forth. There was no music other than the soft shuffling of your feet and the steady rhythm of your breaths.

"In my head I was like, 'Ok. Today's the day. 얼마나 기다렸던 날. I'm finally doing this.' Then when I called your name and you looked at me with that smile, I was just speechless. I asked myself, '나 원래 말도 잘하고 그런데 왜 이런지?' Then I realized it was because that smile, your smile... I fell in love with it. With you. With how beautiful you are and how you always make me happy. So I finally told you, 'Hey. I know this is sudden but I just wanted to say... You give me butterflies, you know? 널 보면 하트가 튀어나와. And at night 잠에 들려고 잠에 들려 해도, 네 생각에 또 새벽 세 시. So, basically, you're on my mind all the time and I think I...'"

"I love you."

She smiles. "Yeah, that's what I said."

"And that's what I'm saying to you now, babe."

She pulls you in for a hug. "I love you so much." When she pulls away she looks back at you and says, "I need to go now but I'll only be gone for a few days, ok? I know I can't always be here but when you miss me remember that you have my heart. 너만 알 수 있는 내 마음을."

Then she kisses you, gentle and delicate, just like the first time she said those three words. "And whenever it gets hard, remember that I love you. Our love is never gonna let us down."

[booksbluegurl]

Day 11/100 days of Productivity

12th-13th April, 2024

Academia

I watched a video on Concentration terms from a JEE channel to learn a trick. It's at around 50:00.

I watched this video on questions on Concentration terms but its not really NEET related.

I learnt about Frog from quick video lessons on Unacademy X. I also did around 20 questions, not enough though.

Watched about 25 minutes of this lecture on frog until the hyperrealistic amphibian actually came on the screen. I'll have to finish this tomorrow. The lecture is actually really amazing.

Watched 1 hour of physics lecture on Solids.

I did about 56 questions of Biology but couldn't count the correct-incorrect questions.

I did about 40-50 questions from different chapters in biology from the book that I was practicing from but haven't completed any chapters yet.

Watched 41 minutes of a lecture on Molecular Biology.

Watched a few short video lectures of Chemical Equilibrium on Unacademy X.

Non Academia

I started watching Era's tours. Watched 15 minutes of it only. It's 3.5 hours long. I'm gonna watch it either when I'm taking a long break or when I'm done with my exams.

Watched this video on game theory. Very fascinating. How being nice, but not a doormat is the best strategy you can have long term. This video was basically an introduction to game theory for me.

I'm also taking part in 20 days of April breaking the cycle challenge of @thelastneuron so, it's day 1/20 (technically its day 1/18).

Kharbuja season is here.

A lot of things happened on 12th, and the only thing i can share is that it was my periods and i just sat watched tv for the whole evening. But its fine. I'll have to compensate for that today.

I'm gonna try to give better than my best in this new challenge started by my friend. Since, it's about breaking a cycle, I'm gonna go out and break the cycle of mediocrity in my efforts. Lets do this!

-Tanishka.

Day 10

Day 12

Pictures from pinterest. Credit to the owners.

[endwersed]

Guess who finally finished editing their most recent fic 🙋🏻‍♀️🙋🏻‍♀️🙋🏻‍♀️

I'll be posting it to AO3 tomorrow, but I thought why not share a li'l snippet today! So here's an excerpt from my upcoming Sterek fic: a college, post-break up, booty call AU 🥰

-

“So we doing this, or what?” Stiles asks bluntly, resting a hand at each hip. “Night’s not getting any younger, dude.”

Derek huffs a short, genuine laugh. It makes something light and easy swish around in Stiles’ chest. He shoves that feeling aside and raises a challenging eyebrow at Derek’s smirk instead.

“Patience never was your strong suit,” Derek points out wryly.

“Well, we both know the only reason I’m here.” Stiles takes a step forwards, close enough now that he can reach out to curl a hand around Derek’s bicep. “No point in pretending otherwise.”

A flash of – of something flickers through Derek’s eyes. It’s gone faster than Stiles can catch it, can really hold onto it long enough to actually parse it. And Derek doesn’t give him the time to linger on it, either, before he moves closer as well, two big, warm hands coming up to skate beneath Stiles’ shirt, fingers curved tightly either side of his waist.

“Are you really that desperate for me?” Derek taunts.

And it is just that – a taunt. Unkind and ridiculing.

Stiles forces a scoff, even as his stupid heart chants a repetitive symphony of yes, yes, oh my fucking god, yes.

“In your dreams,” he sneers.

He slides his hand up the hot, taut expanse of Derek’s skin. Over his shoulder, up the side of his neck, touch light across tendons and a hammering pulse, until he can thread fingers into Derek’s hair, where his grip turns harsher, tightening among the strands and tugging, none too gently. It pulls this beautiful, breath of a grunt from Derek’s throat, and Stiles feels it like a zip of electricity up his spine.

“I don’t have to dream,” Derek says, voice low and words hot as he breathes them out against Stiles’ parted lips. “Not when you’re inviting yourself over here, like clockwork, every single week.”

“Don’t get used to it,” Stiles bites back. “I’ve had offers. I won’t be coming around forever.”

Something dangerously close to a growl pushes from between Derek’s bared, grinding teeth. His fingertips crush into Stiles’ sides, bordering on this side of too painful, the press of Derek’s thigh pushing between his legs, rubbing firm against the growing erection in his jeans. He can feel a matching hardness inside Derek’s shorts, and it makes his fingers twitch in Derek’s hair, eager to get his hands on it, to feel its familiar weight against his palm, its heat in his mouth.

He won’t give Derek the satisfaction, though. He can wait him out.

[somejazzinthemorning]

tightrope. 03

Pairing: Carlos Sainz x Original Female Character Warnings: Language Word Count: 7.241 Previous chapter: 02.

Drowning myself in work is my go-to coping mechanism for more than half of my problems.

I'll either resort to racing or tracing brand strategies in an attempt to avoid having to face whatever problem throws my way and, that night, being 11 pm on a Wednesday, my laptop and the small whiteboard on my desk became my saving grace.

Despite the burning eyes and my aching back, after hours sat at my desk, my mind was still racing, high on whatever feelings the brush of his lips had evoked in my body. I fell asleep to the memory of his eyes and the velvet lips.

There was no way to escape it. We were already falling.

I woke up late, the next day.

My phone had a full wall of notifications ready to present me. A single text in the middle of the dozens of work-related emails, most of them answers to the ones I’d written during the night and scheduled to be sent in the early hours of the work day. I only realised I was smiling, probably high on my own expectations, when I felt my smile drop, after seeing who sent the text. Amanda. Not him.

“those updates on the project at 3 am??? r u okay?”

“sorry! i remembered to schedule the emails, but forgot about the notes on the project.” "got some good work done, tho”

"need to take a moment to reread all of your incoherent notes” "all that rambling is… wow” "BUUUUUT come to the office” "the things from the berlin store just arrived, you will love them”

"can’t make it today” "send pics!”

"come tomorrow, then! ill get churros for breakfast”

My phone went back to the nightstand and I pulled up the comforter, wrapping it around myself in an attempt to find some security and calm of mind. I peered out from under the comforter, staring at the dark room, only lightened by some streaks of light created from a gap in the blinds. I was still tired from the night, and my mind scrambled from everything we had shared.

Eventually, I left the bed. My mom was downstairs, and a copy of Shadow of the Wind rested on the kitchen counter while she cooked lunch. Frank Sinatra played on the old record player in the living room and the music continued to stretch around the house as we ate together. Luckily, her birthday party was keeping her busy; busy enough that she didn't remember to ask me about the dinner from last night.

Truth be told: I'm a terrible liar. I would never be able to escape her questions.

At the end of the day, I met Rocco for a workout, in a nearby gym. He was waiting for me, leaning against the reception counter, teal Puma t-shirt paired with an amused smirk; I knew he was more than ready to put me through my paces. And I was right. It only took me a couple of exercises to lay on the floor, panting and sweating."Have you thought about what you're doing next season?" I looked up, in the direction of the voice. Rocco was standing in front of me, holding my water bottle.

I sat up straight and extended my hand to grab it. "Not yet," the water was cold and refreshing. Just what I needed. "Maybe a third year in the Challenge and," I paused to breathe. "You know, the reserve seat. Not ideal, but yeah."

He frowned, sitting down on one of the plyo boxes near me. "But yeah?"

"Yeah. Works." I answered, laying back down on the green turf. The small fake grass ticklish on my legs and arms. "Not much, but it's racing."

"I think I'll pretend you didn't say that."

"Why? It's just how it is."

He cleared his throat, the deep sound making me open my eyes and stare at him again. "Up," he commanded, refusing to help me get up. I brought the hand I'd just held up to the floor, to help me get up.

"I thought we were done," I said. He didn't even need to say anything to make me understand that we were, in fact, not done. "Are you mad?"

“Annoyed,” he turned back to me. “What the heck was that answer? Of course, a third year in the Challenge and a reserve seat in WEC are not ideal. I was hoping for a real answer, not some… whatever that was.”

“It’s the reality,” I shrugged. Instead of turning back and going back to do whatever he was about to do, he just kept looking at me. Not the conversation I was hoping for today.

“You had a plan. What happened?” He asked.

“Nothing happened. I had a plan. And it’s going as it’s possible.”

"Excuses, Eva," Rocco exclaimed. He stepped forward and looked me in the eye. "You have a plan. You know what you want. And you have the talent."

“Congrats, you just solved gender inequality.” I gave him an ironic thumbs up, my mind still scrambled from the efforts of the workout and the encounter from last night. This kind of conversation was not what I wanted.

“You’re more than capable of getting a decent seat next year.”

“As we know,” I wiggled my finger between both of us, “It’s a tough path. Being capable won’t get me a seat. ”

“Locking yourself in an office keeping track of TikTok trends will?” I sent him a look. He held up his hands in defence. “You’re making excuses. There are other drivers fighting for the same things as you are and they are not taking no for an answer.”

“Neither am I.”

"Come on," he chortled, eying me carefully. I could tell that he wanted the best for me, but I was not really in the mood to discuss this at the moment. "When was the last time you actually planned something for yourself, and not just some new fashion designer or boujie vegan chef?"

I felt a little bit of annoyance creeping its way up my spine. I had been pushing myself so hard for the last few months, and I was starting to feel a bit overwhelmed with all the pressure.

“Can we focus on the races I have left to win?” I asked, my voice taking on an exasperated tone. “We can talk about this after I win this championship?”

“Sure.” He bent down to grab a 15 kg power bag from the floor and dropped it off at my feet. "This wasn't planned, but that self-pity is annoying me."

“A punishment?" I took my hands to my hips, a light chortle abandoning my lips. "Burpees and never-ending lounges? That's what you think I need right now?"

"No, no burpees," he said, his grin widening. "But maybe a few extra lounges wouldn't hurt." He was clearly enjoying this. I rolled my eyes and glanced down at the power bag in front of me.

“It was not—”

He cleared his throat, cutting me off, and I went silent. Then, looking at him, I saw that he was grinning at me once again, content. Yeah, it was self-pity. Yeah, the future is scary, especially when you’re a 25-year-old woman in motorsports and your career seems to be stuck.

I took a deep breath and bent over to pick up the bag, the cold weight of it dragging my body down to the ground. Rocco took a few steps back and then motioned me with his head to start.

"Andiamo," he said. “20 steps back and forth. Three series.”

So I did. I started lounging with the bag, back and forth across the green patch of turf on that side of the gym, trying to keep a steady pace. With each step, the pressure of the bag weighed me down. I kept going, pushing forward and gritting my teeth against the pain. When I finally reached the twentieth step, I dropped the bag and breathed out, my body aching from the effort.

By the end of the third series, I had pushed my body to its very limits and back. I sunk down onto the cool grass beneath me, feeling the relief of the softness beneath me—my muscles aching and my body dripping with sweat, my hair matted to my neck and temples.

Rocco sat near me, guiding me through a couple of moves, helping me to loosen my tight muscles and stretch out my body. Despite the big (and somewhat threatening) muscles he had a gentle touch.

“What’s on your mind?”

"Hm?" I frowned, my eyebrows furrowing together as I closed my eyes, feeling his hand pressing down on my thigh, pushing it firmly against the hard floor. I could feel the pain radiating through my body, but I tried to focus on the sensation of his grip.

“You always complain this hurts,” he said. I opened one eye. Now, I could feel the pressure from his grip. Probably something shifted on my face because he instantly asked, “Now it hurts?”

"It hurt before, I was just distracted." I shook my head, closing my eyes again and focusing on the sensation of his grip. “I’m free to feel like shit when things go badly." I let out.

“Things are not going badly,” he sighed, leaving my leg and switching to the other. “You’re simply letting yourself fall behind.”

I took a deep breath and exhaled it slowly, my head falling back against the floor. I stayed there for a few moments, my heart pounding against my chest and my thoughts racing a million miles per hour. When I finally opened my eyes again, I looked up at Rocco, this time because I felt my thigh burning with discomfort, he was still looking at me, waiting for an answer.

"Too much." I glanced below while patting his arm. He raised an eyebrow, implying more pressure. "Ei!" I scrunched my nose. He just arched a brow. Sadistic fucker. “What? Are you going to hurt me until I hold someone at gunpoint and ask for a seat?”

“You talk like you don’t have good offers, Eva.”

“What is a good offer? Driving against 19-year-old boys in Formula 3? It’s humiliating.”

“W Series?” He suggested.

“I want to race with men and show people I can win against them.” I sat down. Rocco took his hands from my legs. My muscles tingled with the same intensity my thoughts did. “I like the Challenge because I’m showing them I can do it. But the team does not have a budget to race in other series. And I can’t be a reserve forever. So I can do another year and hope things change.”

“See? You’re choosing to fall behind.” He took a deep breath, understanding my frustration. "You can always look for sponsorship," he said, his eyes focused on the floor. "You have the talent, the connections—"

“I spent my teenage years sending letters and desperately trying to talk to people. You saw how that went.”

“You have results to show them, now. In two weeks you’ll have a championship.” I dragged my hands over my face. Instant regret. Both my hands and face were tingling with the same intensity my thoughts did. “W Series will give you exposure. Will give you points. You need points..”

“Why are you so interested now?” I arched an eyebrow, feeling a bit suspicious. “The year is long. Anything can happen. A lot can change.”

“I just don’t see you planning ahead.” He deadpanned, his expression unreadable. “What if you can’t do another season of the Challenge? Will you be content with just being a reserve in WEC?”

“Why so many ifs?” I asked, still feeling a bit apprehensive.

“Motorsports are unpredictable,” he replied, his voice steady and sure. “I’ve been around long enough to know that. And I’m your coach, not just a trainer. It’s kinda my responsibility to do this.”

“Nah, I’m not having it.” I paused, still not entirely convinced. “Do you know something I don’t?”

Rocco just shook his head. The dark strands of his hair moved in unison. “Eva—” He shrugged. I could see the wheels turning in his mind. Whatever he was about to say, it seemed like it wasn't completely true. "One," he continued; his tone shifting. "I don't want to be left without a job when you get bored of racing." I threw my towel at him, though I knew he was only joking. Unfortunately, he dodged it. "Two," he continued, "you're racing like a pro. You should race with the pros."

At least, in one thing he was right. I was racing like a pro.

On the other hand, I was not acting like one.

My team and my dad, the main sponsor, were the only support I had. Despite having other offers, none met our expectations. I had been a third, fourth, or fifth driver for too long. I had spent too much time in the garage, running simulations, and taking part in test sessions. Years of it. Each of these experiences had demoralized me.

Racing in the Challenge, learning with my team, taking time to understand the car and driving it to a podium made sense to me. Standing in the garage and hoping for someone to get food poisoning or COVID was not only morally wrong but also quite dull.

“Did you make this whole drama when Rio told you he wanted to stop racing and just go to college and become an engineer?” I asked, getting up from the floor and picking up my towel, still lying on the ground.

“It was worse actually,” my trainer said, following me. “I think I almost killed him when he told me.”

“We make quite the pair, don’t we?”

He smiled and nodded. “Yes, you do. Your poor father has his hands full with you two.” We stopped walking when we reached the locker room. “Go have a shower and get some rest.”

The second I reached my locker and opened the wooden door, I reached for my phone, looking for a message that hadn't arrived. Pathetic. A part of me considered taking the initiative and being the one to call or text him but, to be honest, what was left for me to say?

I had already told him everything by asking him not to kiss me and I might have told him even more by refusing to let go of him.

The office smelled of churros, so I knew Amanda was around. Either that or someone else had the same idea as her.

Familiar faces smiled back at me as I crossed the corridors and the work areas until I finally reached the common area and took one of the available seats. Since I had chosen to work remotely, and only visited the office casually for occasional meetings or when I needed a place where I could focus, I wasn't given an office.

The room was filled with the buzz of people chatting and the occasional laughter, making me feel a bit out of place. I knew most of them (read: I knew their names and which projects were under their purview), but rarely talked to any of them. Amanda, one of my friends from college, and the one who had introduced me to this agency was the only one I regularly talked with.

I sat down in my chair and pulled my laptop out of my bag. After talking with Rocco yesterday, I decided to take action on my career and spent last night looking at emails and reading my dad's notes on the sides of those he considered important enough to print. So, when I opened my laptop, my screen showed me my Notion board, which honestly felt like a showcase of my own failures. Not the first thing I wanted to see that morning.

A knock on the glass divider of the office made me lift my head up and find Amanda on the other side of it. A beautiful purple jumper highlighted her beautiful curves; her hair was pulled up in a ponytail. In her hands, a white box.

I waved at her.

“Vamos,” she motioned with her head. “Before anyone tries to steal these from me.”

I smiled and grabbed my laptop, zipping it up before getting up and walking towards her. “You know I have an important weekend ahead, right?”

She laughed, opening the box. “A churro won't weigh you down, don't worry.”

I took one of them and walked near her to the cafeteria. The morning light was soft, and the day was not too warm. Ideal to sit on the balcony and talk for a while. So, that's what we did. I grabbed coffee for both, while she walked outside.

The sunshine on my skin was just a slight warmth as I leaned on my chair, and the smooth breeze of the morning cooled off my skin. Traffic sounds in the background, the ruffle of chairs and the occasional bark of one of the dogs playing on the balcony of the start-up that shares the building with us.

While having a sip of her coffee, I noticed Amanda's eyes widening, and I could practically see the bell ringing in her mind. Instantly, my brows were drawn together. Brace yourself, Eva.

"So, I heard on Twitter dot com…" I rolled my eyes at the last part, and despite provoking a small chuckle from her, she didn't stop talking and her gaze still remained twinkling mischievously. "Carlos was in Mugello last weekend."

Oh, for fucks sake.

"If that's what Twitter says, it must be true."

"Yes. So," she paused. Her head tilted slightly, honestly looking like a pup who saw a threat in the distance. "Did you two talk?"

I shook my head; my fingers busy on the handle of my mug, desperately trying to seem unbothered by the question. "Nah, we didn't talk."

"You sure?" She asked, her eyebrows raised in suspicion.

"Yes, I'm sure," I said, my voice steady. "It's not like we're friends or anything."

"That's too bad," she murmured, a hint of disbelief in her voice. "It's not like Carlos and your brother are still like, the best of friends and maybe— maybe he went there to visit him and you end up talking?"

I sighed. "Stop it."“You're a terrible liar, Eva.” Amanda said bluntly, her gaze intense.

“Amanda,” I said, my voice stern and my eyes piercing. "Stop it."

“So, you talked.” Amanda gave me a knowing look. "I knew it. I saw those tweets and I realised we had barely talked this week, and that only happens when you're too busy overthinking. And then boom, I woke up to dozens of notes made at 2 am? You always go to bed early." She crossed her arms, her gaze still intense. "Come on, just tell me what happened. If it’s not him, it’s anything else. That worries me too. I'm here for you, no judgement."

I sighed. "Fine," I said, setting my mug down and leaning back on the chair. "We talked. A lot. We actually had dinner."

Amanda's gaze softened, but then she frowned again. “Dinner? The three of you?”

“The two of us.”

"Just the two of you?" Amanda's eyes widened in surprise, lips smiling brightly. I nodded to her question. "What did you talk about?"

A part of me wanted to end it there. The other part of me needed some guidance. And Amanda was a friend, she always had good advice. On the downside, she loved to gossip. But we were friends. Guidance. But gossip.

I shrugged. “Just normal things. Racing.”

“Okaaaay, that’s good.” At this point, her lips were curving up like she was the one having dinner with him. I couldn’t decide if her reaction annoyed me or made me happy. "So, what now? Are you going to keep in contact with him?"

I shook my head. "I don't think the dinner changed anything.” Liar.

“Eva,” she propped her elbows on the table. “You’re a terrible liar. Spit it out. What happened? If you don’t want to talk about it, tell me that. Just don’t lie.”

Talking about it would make a big deal. A bigger deal, actually. I dragged my hands over my face, tired and confused. Thinking about it was challenging enough and I truly didn't want to transform all my confusion and emotions into words. Amanda, on the other hand, couldn't hide the fact that she wanted the truth, her gaze so strong it almost made me melt over the iron (and obnoxiously red) chair I was sitting on.

So I told her. Every single detail. From the glorious vision of him under the bright lights of my garage, which for a second made me feel like I was living in an alternate world, through the call at dawn, to his gauze under the beautiful sunset glow. His warm, velvety lips brushing against mine. I told her about the “I think I might have loved you, too”, and the way that even in my dreams I couldn’t seem to forget his scent when he hugged me goodbye.

I felt so exposed, so vulnerable, as I spilled my heart out onto that small table, and when I finished all I could hear was the sound of her sigh. A ridiculous rom-com kind of sigh.

“I just feel like we messed it up because of pure desperation,” I said, crossing one leg over the other and looking around. “He messed it up. I think we just missed each other so much we… I don’t know. Got confused on the feelings?”

“He messed up?”

“I didn’t kiss him back. I just asked him to please, don’t.” It was more ridiculous saying it out loud now than when I recalled the moment in my mind.

“You’re even stupider than I thought,” was her answer. I arched my brow. “The guy cooked for you, at his place, told you he “thinks he loved you too” and tries to kiss you and now you’re mad because he didn’t text you?” She paused. “What the hell will he say? Of course, he won’t text you. What would you say to someone after being denied a kiss? Text him yourself.”

“No.”

“Why not?” Why not? I asked myself the same question. Because I can’t trust him to stay. Better, because I can’t trust him to not leave. “Don’t be stubborn, come on. Just by looking at you, I know you’re dying to get that kiss.”

“Can’t we go back inside and talk about work?”

“Oh, no, missy.” She shook her head. “Those AB tests can wait. I want to talk about you and how you’re so dumb you might lose the chance of your life.”

“You’re exaggerating. As always.”

“Eva.” She was stern, her eyes burning on me. “He was your best friend. At least try to mend that friendship. Even if you don’t want anything else. Whatever the reason.”

I sighed, bowing my head in defeat. Amanda had a way of making me see sense, even when I didn't want to. "And if I can’t see him as a friend but still can’t give a step in the other direction?”

“Then, you give it time. Just don’t give it too much space.” She got up from her chair. Mug on one hand. The empty white box on the other. “Remember how that worked up last time.”

Fact one about Amanda: she was probably the most curious person I knew. Any arguments in the office, celebrity rumours or gossip of literally any kind she knew by heart, down to the last detail. And while that was remotely irritating, especially at exhausting times, like during Amber and Johnny’s trial, or when (especially when) the news broke about Pique and Shakira's divorce, it could also be a blessing. At least from my point of view. Perhaps all the stories contributed to her having a broader view of relationships and, as a result, being so good at giving advice. Fact two: there was no one more insistent than her, so, evidently, she couldn’t leave the office without reminding me to text him.

It was 5 pm, and I was utterly absorbed in the presentation for the new restaurant. I was head down, consumed by the details of culinary and marketing analytics, and, to tell the truth, my mind was so focused on this project that I couldn't really think of anything else.

Amanda was getting ready to leave. Jacquemus purse over her shoulder and a strong pink lipstick on the place where a less saturated one had been during the day.

“You stay?” She asked me.

“Aham,” I briefly made my eyes leave the screen to look at her. “I need to finish this. Next week I’ll be too busy.”

“You leaving for Italy on Monday?”

“Tuesday,” I corrected her, my eyes going back down to the laptop. “Don’t want to leave this to the last minute.”

“Okay. I’ll try to have a look at it before you leave. Also,” my eyes went up again. “Send the man a good luck text.”

I sighed, rolling my eyes at her. "He doesn't need my luck text.”

Amanda nodded, her eyes still twinkling mischievously. "Okay, send him a whatever text, then. An emoji. Like his Instagram story.”

“I’m afraid liking his story won’t work.” I leaned back on her office chair, which I had taken in the middle of the day when she needed to leave for a meeting and left me to use her small office.

“Text him, then. Anything. I wouldn’t let Carlos Sainz escape, but you do you, babes,” she shrugged, turning her back to me to walk to the door.“Enjoy the weekend. Besos!”

“Bye!”

I didn’t text him. Of course. In the same way, she was insistent, I was stubborn.

Actually, let me rephrase it.

I didn’t text him then.

Mid-afternoon, Rio had called inviting me to dinner, and when I asked about the kids, he told me he had booked a nanny, so they would stay home. It was either business or pleasure. I didn't need to ask; as soon as he mentioned my dad was invited, I knew we'd be discussing business. And after Rocco's worries last night, I knew it was partly my business, too.

My nerves were on edge as I prepared to leave the office. They only worsened as I neared the restaurant - a way too fancy place for a Friday dinner with the family.

Crossing the sidewalk, my heels clacking on the cement, my head spinning from the long hours in front of my laptop, and the anxiety building in my chest, I looked inside. My dad was seated at the end of the table, with an empty seat to his right - the seat I was supposed to take. Marjorie was already waving at me. Smiling politely to the man standing at the door, I said, "They're waiting for me." He nodded and let me enter.

My eyes drifted to their table, and I allowed myself a few seconds to study the mood. They were laughing, but my palms were still sweating as I settled in for what would surely be an uncomfortable conversation.

"Sorry, traffic," I said, punctuating my apology with a kiss on each of my parents' cheeks. "Am I too late?"

"No, no," my dad said, his voice warm and comforting. "Your brother was about to tell me something, but you just distracted him. Go ahead, Fabrizio."

I turned to him, curious.

"I'm sure we can wait a bit more. Just... after the food," he said.

"Why are you so nervous?" Marjorie asked, her violet fingernails softly laying over his arm in a gentle caress. "It's something good," she said to me. "Don't worry."

"Are you pregnant again?" my mom asked.

"No! No, no!" my sister-in-law responded quickly, her voice almost echoing in the room. Even Rio seemed surprised by her rapid response. "It's Rio's news. Not mine."

“After the food, then,” my father said.

“I hate it when I do that,” I muttered to my brother, grabbing the menu from the table and letting my eyes drift through the print. “You haven’t ordered yet, right?”

My dad shook his head. "We were waiting for you.”

I glanced at the menu one last time before setting it back down. My dad's hand called for a waiter and, after the young man left, the conversation resumed. As usual before any Grand Prix, the race weekend was the matter on the table and, that night specifically, Carlos' penalty was the urgent matter. Ferrari had the pace and Carlos had the skill, but as I sat there, hearing my brother and dad's input on how wise the choice had or hadn't been, my attention diverged to the DNF he had suffered in Austria, less than two weeks ago. Vivid images of the flames engulfing the car, the heartbreaking words on the radio, and the cheers that echoed through the crowd as his teammate stepped onto the top step filled my mind.

One feeling the glory, the other one consumed in ruin.

“Good luck out there this weekend.” "Don’t pull another Austria. That one was scary.”

Done. I’d texted him. For better or for worse, it was done. And I didn’t have time to put the phone back in the purse before it vibrated again in my hand.

“Thank you. I really need it.”

I checked the time.

“Shouldn’t you be resting?”

“I’m resting." "Listening to my teammate rant about food, but resting.”

“Why? Did you tell him about the cheese-less pasta you tried to feed me?” “If I expect Leclerc to teach you something is how to cook pasta."

"He’s a terrible cooker.” “I’m better learning it from you.”

"I’ll be sure to give you a lesson someday."

"I'll hold you to that."

  "What are you smiling about?" Marjorie asked, my attention immediately being grabbed from my screen to the table.

"Nothing, sorry," I said quickly, tucking my phone back into my purse. "Amanda just texted me about the work I was finishing.”

"Ah, Eva, if you put that effort into racing…" he said, as the waiter came back with our food. I tried to ignore him, especially because there was no use fighting back his comment.

Even with the food on the table and the anticipation to find out about Rio’s news tugging on my chest, the conversation didn’t go further from Formula 1. My dad, a lifelong Italian Ferrari fan and a very biased Carlos supporter was ranting over the lack of professionalism he was sensing from the team and how the choices they repeatedly made ruined not only the drivers but the prestige of the team. Nothing new. Rio and I have been listening to the same tirade for a long couple of years and nothing seemed to change, even after the amazing start to the season the team had.

“I had my reservations at first, but you could be a nice fit for the team, actually”, my dad said, pointing at Rio, with the knife he was using to cut his steak. Rio looked confused at him, and then, at me. “Have they given you an answer?”

What?

For a moment, I felt like I’d fallen on a different table, a completely different conversation. My gaze shifted from one to the other, confused by my father’s question.

“Who’s they?” I asked. Marjorie was biting her lip; her violet fingertips on my brother’s arm, once again.

“Ferrari,” my father responded, clearly stepping over my brother’s feet. Rio seemed bothered; clenched jaw, restless fingers that Marjorie tried to calm by positioning hers over. “Are those the news?” He asked him.

Rio nodded, his jaw unclenching and his lips transforming to a slight grin. "Yep. They offered me a job." He looked around the table, his gaze caught mine for a second but quickly left again. “I need to let them know my decision until Monza.”

“You applied for a job at Ferrari?” I asked. Honestly, I was so confused I couldn’t piece all the things together. “We’re doing so good at the Challenge, you could have waited for just one m—”

“Eva.” My dad interrupted me. The strong stern voice pulled my attention. The authority value of his words over the sweet comforting voice of the beginning of the dinner. The mood had definitely shifted “Wait? You’re the one that’s always urging the team to aim for higher heights.”

"Exactly. The team won't do that without Rio."

"But your brother will. And so will you." I tried to interject but with no success. He continued before I even had the chance to talk. "You can't possibly think your brother would stay with the team knowing he could have this huge opportunity."

"I didn't know about any opportunity." I was replying to my father, but my eyes were directed to Rio. "What about the team? And the Challenge?" I inquired.

"In less than two weeks, the championship will be over. I have no doubts you will win it. You're just losing time there," my father's tone was bothering me, but the fact that he was still cutting his steak as he talked was really aggravating my temper.

Rio, on the other hand, didn't react. His expression didn't even shift. He remained silent, eyes shifting between mine and dad's face. In his silence, though, he was telling me much more than he thought.

"This is not a formality," I said to my father. "Can you please look at me while you talk about our future?"

Finally, he put down his cutlery and remained silent for a few seconds. Deep blue eyes looked up at me, cold and serious.

"There's no future for you if you're afraid to take a serious step," he said finally. "I won't let your brother get stuck in the Challenge when I know he can do so much more. I won't let you make him fall behind because of you."

"Because of me?"

"Why else would he stay at the Challenge?" I stayed silent, feeling my fake sense of confidence being stripped away with the weight of my dad's question. The answer that my conscience gave me was selfish and I refused to say it out loud. I was afraid of staying alone, rather, I was afraid to see Rio flying solo in the higher aims I ambitioned for me and not being able to carry along. Only if he waited, we could jump up together. "Why would he choose anything less than Formula One?"

"So, you have it decided, then?" I asked Rio. "How did that even happen?"

His tongue crept in between his lips, eyes wandering on my face, afraid to reach my eyes. It was making me nervous. Not just because he was about to leave me, but because he didn't tell me about it, prior. My dad knew about it. He even thought that I knew about it. And like a lightning bulb lighting up on my head: Rocco knew it, too.

"It was proposed to me. The job. At Silverstone, a few weeks ago." Even though Rio was stuttering, and his words barely constructed a sentence, piece by piece it all fell together. "Apparently, Carlos talked to someone about you. About the Challenge. And he mentioned me, my results..." he explained. "Carlos invited me there for the Grand Prix and surprised me with an interview."

Why didn't it surprise me? Carlos. The “right time”, of course.

"Your results? Why hide this from me?” I asked, looking around the table. “Clearly, everyone else knows.”

“I wanted to tell you, but didn’t get the chance to do it.”

“But what?” I asked, half defeated, half annoyed. Angry, even. There was so much going on inside me, I couldn’t think straight. “You just said you had the interview in Silverstone. Weeks ago. You had plenty of opportunities.”

“I knew you would snap and react like this,” Rio tried to justify himself.

“Snap? I’m not—” I paused and took a deep breath. At this point, I was seething with anger. “I’m asking questions. I’m not… snapping.”

“You should be happy for me,” I would if I didn’t feel betrayed. “I know you well enough to know that you would react… badly to the news. Especially if you knew Carlos was involved**.**”

Even though his name was blinking on my head, in bold red letters, I tried to set apart his involvement in this story. So, I carried on,

“And you’re just going to do it? Leave the team, the whole project and ditch us? Without even consulting me?”

He shrugged. “I’m consulting you now.”

“This is not a consultation, Rio. Please.” A pause. “This is you telling me what you’re going to do, without even considering my opinion or the team that’s behind your great results.”

“Go ahead.” He made a gesture with his hand. “What’s your opinion, then? You are the one that’s always telling me to aim higher. This is my dream. Always has been.”

“What? Formula One? I thought your dream was to drive in Formula One. Or was that before you noticed you’re a shitty driver? Enlighten me.”

“Eva, enough,” the deep voice cut me off.

I felt like I was going to burst. I wanted to scream, to cry, to express my anger somehow. But my dad's stern gaze kept me in my place. I felt completely helpless and unheard.

“You’re being ridiculous,” said Rio, cutting through the silence. “Childish, even. Ungrateful.”

“Ungrateful? I’m not the one leaving.”

“Why does leaving need to be bad?” The question settled in for a second. “Grow a bit, and maybe you’ll get some good opportunities too.”

“Sure, maybe then my friends will get me jobs, too. Is that what you mean?”

“Enough.” My dad's fist hit the table, loud enough to silence us, but not to the point of attracting too much attention.

My gaze lingered on his clenched fist on the table. I nodded, forcing myself not to say anything else. I placed my napkin on the table and got up, making sure my chair wouldn’t make any noise when pushed back. Before turning around, I paused briefly, my gaze now resting on my brother. “Good luck with your new job.”

  *

  It didn't surprise me when I saw Carlos fly through the track the next day, setting amazing times in the qualifying session, despite the penalty waiting for him for the race. He was dancing with the car, tracing beautiful lines within the colourful ones Paul Ricard was known for. Carlos would start P19 the next day, only ahead of Magnussen, who also had a back-of-the-grid penalty.

I traded the interviews for a dip in the pool and lingered there for the remainder of the afternoon. Perhaps because I was not the best person to have around that day, my parents had left just before lunch and didn't get back until after dinner. Alone, with music echoing throughout the house and the crippling anxiety the events that week had provoked, I felt myself get lost in the doubts and uncertainties.

My phone rang when I was already getting ready for bed. On my nightstand, the name Carlos appeared over an old photo of both of us. Like I couldn't control it, I walked to the phone and sat on the bed. I let it ring a few times before picking it up.

“Hi,” he said. I just looked through the window, to the dark backyard. “No good luck text today?”

“Guess not.”

“And why's that?”

“Did you know Rio had an interview to work at Ferrari?”

“Yes...?” He paused. “Is that a problem?”

“Did you know he got a job offer?��

We both fell into a moment of silence. A long sigh stretched through the line. I closed my eyes, not sure what to expect from the conversation. The next time his voice was heard, it was more serious.

"Can we stop asking questions instead of answering them?"

"The timing is funny," I said. "Just that."

"What do you mean?"

"You coming to Mugello? Was that a coincidence?"

"Eva, what?" Carlos was silent for a few seconds. "Don't make this into a drama," he said. "Rio is talented and if he got a job offer it's because he earned it. The things are not remotely related."

"I'm not complaining about him getting the job."

"Then what are you complaining about?" Carlos asked.

"That it took you years to finally come back and talk to me and it happened just when he got a job in your team. Did you really want to talk to me or did he make you do that?"

"I didn't do it for him," Carlos said. "I did it because I wanted to see you."

"I wish I could believe you."

"And why don't you?"

"It's been three years. Coincidences don't just happen."

I could hear him breathe. Silence weighed down my chest. He wasn't denying it. He wasn't telling me why he was there, that night. "Can I see you this week?" He asked me, before a long sigh.

"No."

"I'll be in Maranello for a few days." I bit my lip, shaking my head to the void. "You'll be in Imola, right? I can go there—"

"I don't want to see you." I talked over him and then paused for a brief second. "Don't show up there, please. It's an important week and I don't really need more distractions."

“Eva, por favor.”

“Good luck tomorrow.”

I put my phone away and let myself sink into the bed, feeling nothing but the warmth of the comforters on my skin and the instant sense of security that came over me. I allowed my eyes to close and my mind to drift away, and before I knew it, a prayer for Carlos came into my thoughts.

I prayed for strength for both him and me, for us. I knew that, whether we were on or off the track, we would need to find a way to get through whatever was to come.

Next Chapter: 04.

Thank you for your support in the previous chapter! Carlos will become a more present character in the future. Pinky promise. Don't abandon me until that happens, please! <3

[writtenjewels]

Partner part 3

Part One, Part Two

Salim decided to allow Jason time alone while Salim attended to his duties as regent. Five years he followed the routine, but today he was distracted with thoughts of Jason. Salim was curious about the young man: why he volunteered to join the matchmaking pool, where he came from, what the tattoo on his arm looked like... Salim half expected to run across Jason at some point in the day, but they never crossed paths. Which left Salim to wonder how Jason was choosing to spend his time.

Salim retired to his rooms for the evening. The moment he walked in he caught the scent of food. He glanced over to the adjoining room where Jason sat eating with his bare hands.

“We have utensils,” Salim informed him. Jason looked up and flashed him a smile, his lips lined with sauce. He lifted his hands to wiggle stained fingers at Salim.

“You don't eat Sloppy Joes with utensils.”

“What?”

“Your cooks didn't know what it was, either,” Jason nodded. He paused to pop a finger in his mouth and suck the mess off. “I had to explain it to 'em. Think I near gave 'em a heart attack.” Salim laughed and drew closer in curiosity. The ground meat looked like it was soaked in sauce. His amusement grew: he could easily picture his chefs looking scandalized when Jason requested the food. “You want some?” Jason invited. “They told me it's 'halal', whatever that means.”

“It means 'permitted',” Salim explained. He sank down on a cushion next to Jason. “We need our meat prepared a certain way for it to be considered 'halal'.” He eyed the mess warily.

“I hear you thinkin',” Jason announced. The odd turn of phrase caught Salim's attention.

“I wasn't aware you were a telepath.”

“I'm just askin' what's on your mind, smart-ass,” Jason retorted, making Salim chuckle again. He couldn't explain why, but he enjoyed the teasing banter that was building between them. Jason flashed a smile at him and nudged the sandwich in his direction. “Don't knock it 'til you try it.”

Salim gingerly picked up the sandwich. He could immediately feel the sauce seeping out and dripping onto his fingers. He tried taking a quick bite and got sauce on his chin. Jason burst out laughing.

“You're terrible,” Salim complained, though his smile softened the words. “But the sandwich is delicious.” In fact, as he ate with Jason, Salim found himself having fun with the messy food. He and Jason laughed at each other as they got sauce all over themselves; they held up hands to compare finger stains. Salim was a little sad when it was all eaten and cleaned up.

“What'd you do all day?” Jason asked him.

“Went to meetings, filed paperwork, addressed citizen petitions. My usual duties. What about you?”

“Walked around, mostly.” Jason leaned back a little on his cushion. “Your servants all seem to like you. And you got one hell of a garden.”

“Thank you,” Salim bowed. “I put a lot of work in it.”

“Yeah, sure,” Jason scoffed skeptically. After a moment he added, “No shit? You did all of it yourself?” Salim answered with a shrug, strangely pleased by the impressed tone in Jason's voice. “So what's on the agenda tomorrow?” Jason asked.

“Same as today, I imagine,” Salim mused. “I may go into town at some point.”

“Am I supposed to come along?”

“Only if you want to.”

Jason considered for a moment. “What do I wear?”

“Whatever you want,” Salim assured him.

“What if I make you look bad?” Jason challenged with a teasing smirk.

“You are welcome to try,” Salim responded with a matching smirk. He was really growing to like this man. His eyes followed the scattering of freckles on Jason's cheeks. “Would you like to join me for breakfast?” he invited. “You can give me your decision about accompanying me then.”

“Sure,” Jason agreed. “I'll make sure to ask the cooks to make some weird shit.”

“Menace,” Salim accused in a playful tone.

“Asshole,” Jason responded, matching him. “Goodnight, Salim,” he added in a more gentle voice.

“Goodnight,” Salim echoed. He walked to his room feeling lighter and happier than he felt in years.

[throwaway-yandere]

Of Dream A-Dreaming (Yandere Idol!Itto/Reader)

The real a/n: dang, restricting myself to 1-1.5k words for this event is fricking difficult when I usually upload fics around 3k lolol. The urge to make this unnecessarily long looms above my shoulders and the crack fic ideas are piling up instead of yandere ones i need therapy fr—

Unreliable synopsis: You're the self-proclaimed "Numero Uno" idol's producer! He has his screw loose that's for sure, but hey, what makes him think you're not eccentric as well amiright???

Alice's note, Mother of Klee: Strange... Could've sworn you and Ayato would end up partnered together considering your similar "personalities". Oh, well. Producer Lumine thought it would be hilarious to see you take Itto on. This should still be entertaining. Let's see who's going to be the bigger menace between you two, snailnon!

Yandere Idol 1k event masterlist

-------

"Itto, what do we say when we want to go to the restroom?"

"P–... Please, (Y/n)?"

"Perfect! Ehehehehe, good boyyy!!!" You ruffled his hair roughly, which made him voice out complaints about his hair gel. "Now go take a dook-dook."

Itto sighed, his relief heard throughout the whole cafe. "Thank God! Thanks, granny snai–"

"Call me granny again and I'll whoop your a– I mean, kindness isn't the absence of mean thoughts but evil actions! Now go, be free!"

Itto rushed to the restroom, leaving you with a playful grin on your face.

The scent of caffeine fills the air, fueling the chatter inside the humble cafe. It had never been this buzzing. The tender space not once had more than five customers. For all it's worth, its owner probably never would've imagined a day where eight drop-dead gorgeous men would play baristas for three days in his place. Pairs of the regulars' taciturn eyes carefully eyed the idols' movements, gazing at the men like exotic animals behind glass. Their existence as regular customers made their presence reasonable, these eight celebrities with you, however, not so much.

ADDICKTZ has an "Of Drink A-Dreaming" barista event today, which was primarily led by Diluc and his producer. The idols were dressed in typical European barista fashion, with the exception of Ayato, Thoma, and Itto wearing sets of Kazagoshi respectively. 

"(Y/n), where's Itto?"

You laughed. Unlike your colleagues, Diluc doesn't enjoy addressing you by your respected title. "I don't knooowww. Take a guess. Hehe."

Diluc's eyebrows knitted. 

"You're his producer. The filming's about to start in five minutes." He stressed out sternly.

"I guess you have to film him in the bathroom then." You smiled, completely unbothered. "Cause, you know, he's there."

Normally, people would recommend a straight jacket for the deeply disturbed, but the founder of TEYVAT Productions said "I got just the thing for you!" before Producer Lumine gave you a contract to be Arataki Itto's producer for the next 5 years.

Yes, THAT Arataki Itto. The most troublesome member of ADDICKTZ and its best rapper. The guy who's supposedly a next-in-line monarch from a ruling family in a small village until he had a disagreement with his parents– but no one knows about that tea except you and Alice. You were going to decline this job but he... lacks critical thinking so much that you decided you must protect this high school dropout. Or at least make his life challenging. You're winning on either option, anyways.

You continued sipping your coffee. As a fellow cheapskate like the person you're producing, you're savoring every last drop of this fine brew, ignoring the free cake-like brownies on your table. You're much more laid back than normal because you're going on vacation tomorrow. Doesn't mean you're unaware of your own tendencies; if you don't care, you often won't put in the effort. And right now you genuinely don't care about what Itto's up to.  Your succulents are genuinely the only thing you're determined to take good care of, and you already set an alarm as to when you're going to water them.

Diluc sighed. The poor idol slash Dawn Winery heir just couldn't put in the effort to scold you both anymore. "Fine. I'll give you ten minutes and that's final."

Eh, don't count on it. This is you and Itto, and together you're both a hindrance. 

"Hehe. Gracias, compadre!"

That mesomorph couldn't possibly untie his apron without your help and you'd probably take five minutes trying to untangle it. It was considerably difficult getting Itto to wear his uniform, especially with his muscular build (but that's just because you made sure it's extra tight for the hell of it.) It goes without saying that Itto will always be by your side. If he wants to escape this girl scout's knotting nightmare, he'll need your help. Aww geez, what would he do without you?

"They sure get along quite well." The CEO's assistant muttered, their eyes staring directly at you. For someone who's supposed to be observing in secret, they sure aren't doing a decent job worth that paycheck. Not like having them here affects you. You'd still violate a few rules even if someone with authority is around.

"(Y/n)," Thoma sheepishly limped towards you, apologizing to the few empty chairs he bumped into. "C-Can you please help me tie my apron?"

"Heh, yup! Sure thing!!!"

Childe looked over his shoulder and raised an eyebrow from the other side of the room. "You're really going to ask for THEIR help?" 

Thoma froze.

The Mondstadter had been hanging out with you a lot lately that he forgot you're not the most reliable person out there. Hard not to like him. Blondes are pretty cool. Men are cool, in general.

Your iconic grin is back in town.

"O-Oh, never mind! I'll just ask Ajax–"

"Naahhhh, you're here now!" You smiled, making grabby hand gestures. "C'mon, let me tie it for you~."

The poor blonde's smile was forced upward and twisted from too much pressure. He carefully handed you his apron with unfathomable reluctance– 

But before you could take it, another hand yanked Thoma's away, prompting him to yelp. That hand was slightly damp, clear that it just came from the restroom.

Itto's grip tightened.

"Tie it yourself, Thoma."

Thoma gulped.

You couldn't see from this angle, but whatever Thoma saw, you had an inkling that it wasn't anything other people ought to see.

Zhongli tensed up. "Itto, that's enough–"

"YOU!!!"

Before anyone got another word out about Itto's strange outburst, another voice called out. You barely looked away. 

You already know who it is.

"Why hello, Akira!" You greeted with clenched teeth.

One problem after another.

Most of Itto's fans are men. It's entertaining how they get hyped up whenever he's on stage. He's a role model when comes to exercise. You would know since you've once encountered an obsessed fan who gushed about how Itto's poster motivates him to do more push-ups and lunges and still insists he doesn't have a crush on Itto. His fans' muscles may be as strong as bricks but their heterosexuality weakens around him. As it damn should, honestly. You don't have any sports so listening to them talk was like watching a toddler show off their jumping skills. 

That fan was funny, but Akira? Not by a long shot.

He was supposedly Itto's first stan. And stalkers are not funny. 

"Why are you still his producer?!"

The CEO's assistant looked around, asking how the stalker got in under hushed whispers but to no avail. Your eyelids lowered. 

You're going to have a serious talk with security later.

You shrugged with a small, innocent smile. "Cuz I'm an amazing person...?"

"No! Hell no!!!" Akira grumbled. "You're a psychopath! You're not a real fan, you're just doing this for the money!!!"

No shit, Sherlock. Don't be delusional. No one works for free.

You huffed.

"Sure, maybe I have problems using empathy sometimes, but take one good look at your situation and you'd realize that you're the one who looks like a psychopath right now."

Akira shut his mouth up immediately.

You looked at Dainsleif, who understood your signal.

You're pissed and you want Akira out.

Dainsleif nodded, grabbing Akira's shoulder.

You closed your eyes, drowning out the sound of Akira's loud complaints with your louder slurping. Knowing Dainsleif's skills, he would've peacefully kicked the stalker out of the building.

"You okay, bro?"

You opened your eyes again.

The stalker's gone, and Itto is sitting right in front of your table.

"Yeah, of course, I am."

Itto smiled. Don't be fooled, he was wholly aware that you're angry– you have the tendency to repress your anger and he knows you're harboring some spite.

"You know what will get him to stop?" He grinned, snapping his fingers like he was the smartest person in the room (he's not.) 

"A good beating."

You chuckled, your voice mixed with concern and intrigue. "What? No. I'm a nice person. I ain't letting ya."

"Are you nice or are you just my producer? Anyways, yeah, but what if, I like, challenge him in a dance competition?"

You looked at him laconically.

That must be…

"The stupidest idea I have ever heard." You patted his back. Hard. Itto spat his drink, the brown liquid spilling to his chin like baby food. "I LOVE it. Go kick his ass."

Ain't no way you're passing up a chance to enable his family-friendly bullshit.

Ahh, you love life. It’s things like this that makes life worth living, because despite how empty you may feel at the end of the day, you at least know that you were a piece of something great.

A piece that caused Arataki “Numero Uno” Itto challenge a stalker fan into an impromptu dance competition.

Itto raised an eyebrow. "I thought you were gonna stop me."

"Well, you know how my mind works. If it is funny, then you should probably do it. Unless you, or someone else, get hurt. 'Cuz then it's a lot less funny…"

But then you remembered there was this one time you convinced Itto that "STFU" means "so thankful for you" and he sent that shit to his grandmother. Who then whooped his ass. With a wooden spoon. In front of CEO Alhaitham.

Oh, this poor summer country boy.

A strange chortle-like noise exited your lips.

"Wh-what is it?"

"Ohh, nothiiing." You patted his head, this time, you didn't ruffle his hair. "Hmm... I'll give you permission to challenge him in this dance competition thingy, but it better be AFTER the event, mkayyy?"

"Hmm! You got it, boss!"

-----

So, that was a fucking lie.

"YOU WANT TO GO, HUH?!"

"I DON'T CARE IF YOU BEAT ME UP– THEY'RE NOT WORTH IT, BOSS!!!"

You just got back from buying some pins at the convenience store to secure Itto's apron, and this is the thanks you'll get? You pinched your temple, sighing with an eerily large smile.

This doesn't look like a dance competition.

As Itto grabs Akira by the collar, the crowd that had formed around them just stood and stared. It's a good thing that phones are prohibited. Kaeya was close by, but he doesn't seem motivated to dissuade his unit mate either. Annoyingly, you got a glance from the man that said "find a way to stop him."

Hah! Like that's easy– Wait.

Out of the blue, you recalled a vital memory.

A week after you started working for Itto, you found him losing his shit over a deranged fan who insulted his best friend, Kuki. You'll never forget the way he bent his knees, ready to pounce until the show was abruptly interrupted by ADDICKTZ's Creative Director, who hurled a cup of soybeans in his way. You received some more beans from Sir Zandik, who advised you to take similar action should the need arise... but you already ate them months ago. 

How troublesome, but Arabic beans should work.

Ayato's eyes widened as your unsanitized hand reached for the bean bowl. "Stay still, Mx. (Y/n), don't do anything rash–"

With amazing precision, the beans reached their target.

Plunk.

The Kamisato heir shut their eyes, clicking his tongue in disappointment.

"Ow– what was that for?!" Itto frowned angrily. "Seriously, what the hell, (Y/..."

…

Arataki Itto stared at you blankly, his eyes slowly rolling upward.

"... Itto?"

"... (Y/n)..."

"Y-Yeah?"

"I… t-trust you, homie–" His eyes fluttered, closing gradually while his knees buckled.

"Catch me."

"Huh? H-Hey, wait–"

THUD!!!

Just like a snail's shell boldly crossing a busy pedestrian lane, your body was absolutely wrecked. Your upper back hit the floor first as you cradled Itto's weight between your arms.

Everyone was stunned. Kaeya's producer looked at you in confusion.

"Do you have any idea what you just did...?"

"I have no idea what I've done either, heh." You wheezed, unable to breathe properly as Itto crushed your lungs. "All I know is that Dottore told me to do that if he starts acting violently."

Dainsleif and Zhongli immediately rushed towards you and Itto, with the latter fruitlessly attempting to dial 911 with his lack of technological wisdom. Diluc came back, asking what the hell just happened before Childe and Dainsleif carried Itto off you. Meanwhile, Ayato stood by the corner, laughing to himself. You would too if you weren't so busy getting suffocated by Itto's comically heavy muscles.

Childe slapped the back of your head after you were safely untangled from the unconscious man's limbs. "You idiot! He's allergic to beans!!!"

"... Hehe, whoops?" You heard CEO Alhaitham's assistant sigh from behind you, but you still quipped up a joke. "Can I blame Master Dottore for this, pretty pleease?"

"Arataki Itto is your responsibility, Mx. (Y/n)" Someone spoke in a low, reverberating voice.

Everyone stopped to look at Zhongli, whose face expressed indifference yet his crossed arms exude something far more ineffably foreboding.

"As written in the contract, a TEYVAT PRODUCTIONS producer should be the one looking after their idols if they're admitted to the hospital, correct?"

You stiffened. 

Oh no. 

"... Hey, Ayato?"

"Hmm?" He answered with a hand covering his clearly smiling face.

"How long does allergy-induced comas last–"

Dainsleif chuckled, replying instead of the young politician. "Could be between 24 to 48 hours."

"Fuck."

Needless to say, you brought this to yourself.

... So long, 3-day vacation.

You want to turn into a snail. 

The remainder of the event came to an abrupt end. The CEO's assistant rescheduled everything while the remaining ADDICKTZ producers unwillingly cleaned up everything. Compared to Zhongli, who sat back down on an empty table with his osmanthus tea, Childe was the loudest complainer. Being wise beyond his years, the Liyue man drank in silence while ignoring the mayhem going on around him.

If everyone saw the way both Arataki "Numero Uno" Itto and his accomplice Akira smirked when you chucked a bean to his head, you might just catch on that he's keener than what most underestimated him for.

Your idol noticed that you've been busy hanging with Thoma lately and wanted to monopolize your attention for a while, so he staged himself up for a beating. Did Itto plan on getting completely knocked out by beans? No, probably not. You're quite unpredictable and this is merely a consequence of poor planning.

Still, unfortunately for you, Zhongli and Itto are unexpected kindred spirits. Knowing the reckless nature you both shared, Zhongli anticipated something like this might happen. It's a good thing the Liyuean helped him with revising their contract. 

This will be their little secret. Unconscious men tell no tales, right?

Zhongli laughed.

Ah, youth.

Ansytea: y-you absolutely scare me, please kindly accept this offering, my lord snail– anyways, thank you for joining the 1k event!!!

[melodygatesauthor]

Weekly Update - 05/18/2023

Hey all! I think I'm going to start doing weekly updates since I have a lot going on and a lot of fics in the works! I want you to know what I'm currently working on (WIPs) and I'll also toss some life updates in here as well. I'm also going to mention requests I have in the pipeline and when I'm expecting to complete them. Maybe your request is in there! (It probably is)

Going forward the updates will be on Sunday, I'm just doing this now because I have ADHD and it's on my mind today lol.

Since I've been really following the winds of inspiration lately, I want to keep doing that so I'm just putting this here so you know where the winds are blowing lmao.

I'll also mention if I think my current longfic is going to be delayed or anything here as well.

Gonna cut it up into sections to keep it consistent and easy:

Long/Chaptered Fic Updates

Currently I'm working on A Bit Dodgy, as many of you know. There will NOT be an update this Monday (05/22/2023). Though I will be working on it this week for @welcometostayingawake to edit and I'll have it to post by 05/29/2023 (that's the goal). If it's going to be pushed back again, I'll let you all know the Sunday before (05/28/2023).

Mini-series Update

Worth the Risk Part 3 should be out this week. That's the goal anyway. I have a good chunk of it done but there's still a lot to do. <- Still hoping to have this out this week but we will see (05/22/2023)

Uploading The Fractured Moon Part 2 (either tonight or tomorrow yay) Continuing to chip away at The Fractured Moon Part 3

There's a top secret fic series coming out HOPEFULLY this weekend, but it may be next weekend instead depending on how quickly I can get it finished. I'm losing my mind over it. (It's a 3 parter and all 3 parts are coming out at the same time teehee) <- Editing that today 05/22/2023. Hope to be done with it by tonight!

In June there's a writing challenge for Pride that @flightlessangelwings is putting on and I'm working on my fic for that so I'll be announcing more for that fic once I have the details better outlined!

Fool Me Twice should be getting a part 2 soon. I'm hoping I'll feel inspired to at least start it this week but maybe not. <- Taking this off the list for this week. Focusing on ABD and requests (05/22/2023).

Still considering doing 2 other parts for The OJ Problem but honestly, it's not that exciting to me rn. Since it's more of a Valentine's Day fic I might consider just doing those next year. <- Taking this off the list for this week. Focusing on ABD and requests (05/22/2023) will probably just put this on for next year for valentine's day.

Requests

I still have a sizeable amount of requests. REQUESTS ARE STILL CLOSED CURRENTLY. If your request is in blue, that means I'm going to try to work on it this week (05/21-05/27). If it's in pink, I'm going to try to work on it a different week. It's taking me a while to get into the headspace for some of them so thank you for your patience. Green means it's done I'm just working on editing now. They are posted in no real order, just working on them as I feel inspired to.

Blue Jones X f!Reader requested by @saraicus

There are 2 prompts in particular that I liked from the list you sent so I'll be doing them. - His eyeliner running down as he’s banging you against his desk - You’re a new patient and he just grows overprotective towards you. Doesn’t want you to meet other men and keeps you in solitary confinement for his jealousy sake.

Moon Boys X f!Reader by @ravenz-hope

Gamer reader and the boys getting angsty over her being too obsessed with the game (most relatable thing ever) <- Haven't had the time to set up the post but this will be coming out very soon. Need to finish editing as well (05/22/2023)

Moon Boys X f!Reader by @simpforbritgents

Asking for something like Feeling Flustered where the moon boys are doing guided phone sex.

Moon Boys X f!Reader by @mercuryrosesixx

Moon Boys w/ a f!Reader w/ nipple piercings. <- Started working on headcanons (05/22/2023).

Marc Spector X f!Reader by @blueflowerhat

Marc shower sex based on AI prompt.

Steven Grant X f!Reader by Anon -

Steven and Reader are both virgins. Marc is guiding/coaching Steven.

Doctor Marc Spector X Patient Reader by @burnincrown

Role Reversal (sort of) of Not a Doctor - Marc is the doc, reader is the patient and he takes advantage - Dark Fic

Nathan Bateman X f!Reader by @campingwiththecharmings

This is the prompt that hit me like a Nathan-shaped mac truck! -> “if you don’t like my teasing why are you moaning”

Nathan Bateman X f!Reader by Anon

Cam girl reader x Nathan - Nathan turns to a cam girl, he's been kinda stalking her. (Excited hehe)

That's it for right now. I'm a busy lady as usual but I like having a few different projects going at once! More coming soon! Thanks for always being so awesome and supportive. Love you all!

[androidcharles]

Ellie Rose Week Day 5: Fave Ending/Past

So, since pictures aren't going to be a thing, I've decided to just write out the last few days. Hopefully I can make it work! So here's a small tidbit of a fan fic that only exists in my head that I can hopefully figure out how to write properly.

Ellie sat at her desk, staring into the mirror at all the pictures that surrounded it. There were very few pictures of her between the ages of 16 and 24, mostly because of the circumstances she was under around that time. Up until now, she had been a hardened criminal, breaking the law six ways from Sunday, walking on the wrong side of the law, and getting on the bad side of several people.

In that world, there was no one she could really trust. Hell, she wasn't really shocked when her old gang abandoned her in Stickholm, only for her to be caught by the Wall and imprisoned.

But if it didn't bother her so much, why did it still hurt when she was locked up?

Either way, she was lucky to have found Henry (and eventually Charles) when she did. In a way, they sort of saved her.

Henry was more understanding of her plight, being a former criminal himself. He was like a diamond in the rough, always going through life knowing perfectly well he might not come out of it unscathed. The amount of times he saved her in their government mandated missions and through everyday she couldn't exactly count on all her fingers. Despite his rough nature, he was exactly like any older brother should be, always looking out for her, talking to her when she was down and always providing an understanding ear for her whenever she went through one of her episodes.

Meanwhile, Charles was less understanding, but that didn't mean he at least tried to be. Being an android and only living for about 7 years (even she found it hard to believe), he didn't have much experience in terms of how life worked. Still, he was happy to talk to her and provide comfort for her in different ways, always hugging her when she felt and taking her out to do things that she couldn't imagine. She smiled as she though about how he smiled whenever she smiled, bouncing up and down as his soothing green eyes would light up an excited as he dragged her along onto the next adventure.

Today however, was completely different and she had no reason to feel happy right now. Tomorrow was her birthday, a day she had been dreading since the year started. It always popped up around the end of the year and with the cool autumn air affecting even Stickburg, she found it hard to look forward to it.

It seemed like every year, something would go wrong on her birthday. Every year one of her friends would get captured or she would face near death... or worse...

Maybe it was because on her 15th birthday, something awful happened to her. Something that would forever change her life. She gazed at the pictures on her mirror, seeing all the pictures of Henry and Charles at Goudas taking on the extra cheesy fry challenge, them together at the park eating ice cream, a picture of Ellie striking a ballet pose that Henry had taught her. Her eyes lingered to a worn photo on the lower corner.

It was a picture of three girls, one with soft blonde hair, one with dark black hair, and finally, a picture of a girl with brown hair, rose red eyes glimmering with a sort of sadness.

How old had she been when that picture was taken?

"You OK, Ellie?" she heard Charles say as she jumped. She looked at Charles, who was smiling extra big, as if he was planning something.

"I'm fine..." Ellie said softly. It had been at least a few weeks since the three of them started living together and despite the fact that they were still getting used to each other, it felt a bit bad to have her privacy intruded upon.

"This is like the first time I've been in your room..." Charles said, "I'm sorry, do you want me to leave?"

"I'm fine, just... a little upset is all," Ellie said softly.

"Oh..." Charles said, "OK, I'll-"

"I didn't say you had to leave," Ellie said as she saw Charles walking out the door, "You can stay if you want. Maybe if I'm sad with someone else, it'll help..." Charles' eyes sparkled as he sat on the bed behind her, tipping his head to the side.

"That picture in the corner there... that's a picture of you, right?" Charles said, "And your sisters?" Ellie's eyes widened as she turned around, looking at Charles in shock.

"How did you-" Ellie said softly before remembering that Charles had facial recognition programs and access to a large database of people thanks to the government forces. She wasn't completely shocked that he recognized the picture.

"Yeah, that was my family... well at least a long time ago. I didn't get along with my sisters very well sometimes, but they were still my sisters you know... I still cared about them and loved them just like any other siblings..."

"What happened to them?" Charles said curiously.

"They died..." Ellie said, "It's a long story." Charles leaned forward, his eyes filled with great curiousity as Ellie sighed. They had known each other for a while. Maybe it was about time she told someone this story...

"Well, it all started a week before my birthday..."

-----

And that's it! For now anyway! Maybe once I figure things out I'll post a full version of this, but for now, take this as it is, please!

Prompt List:

[stargazer-sims]

Journal Entry #60

Journal Entry #59 // STORY INDEX

Yuri

At the beginning of September, Victor and I moved into our forever home.

We thought we might go in the middle of the month, but I knew Victor wanted to have time to begin training with his new coach before the start of the competitive snowboarding season, and I wanted to be settled into our house in time to celebrate my birthday, so I suggested that we should arrange to go sooner. Victor seemed surprised, but he was pleased, and it made me happy to offer something he genuinely wanted without feeling like I was doing it as some sort of repayment for an imaginary debt I owe him.

That's one truth I've come to realize over the course of this year; the debt really was imaginary. Victor loves me, and he does things for me because he wants to help me and make my life easier. He never expects me to repay him deed for deed. All he wants is for me to do my best to help him whenever I can.

Sometimes my best is quite a lot, and sometimes I’m not physically capable of doing much of anything. Either way, it’s okay. Not being able to do everything all the time doesn't make me a bad person or a failure as a husband, and I'm beginning to understand that it was only my insecurity and lack of self-worth that made me believe it did.

Learning to trust myself and to believe in my own abilities and my value as a person hasn't been easy. Some days, I struggle to find even one affirming thing to say, and that's when I know I need to ask for help.

Doing that was difficult at first, because I had to get over the hurdle of thinking that asking for even the smallest thing made me a burden to Victor or my family. Releasing the guilt and shame is an ongoing process, just like teaching myself to be more positive and self-confident is, but I'm determined to succeed. I owe it to everyone I love, and I owe it to me.

When I can't come up with an affirmation, Victor always knows what to do. Rather than simply saying something good about me and asking me to accept it, he challenges me to name something I accomplished during the previous few days. It might be something big like planning and cooking an entire meal on my own, or maybe it'll be something small like folding laundry or sending an email, but there's always something. Then, he gets me to stand in front of the full-length mirror in my room and congratulate myself aloud.

Initially, that felt like an utterly silly thing to do, but Victor told me his first coach used to get his students to do it before competitions. He said the coach used to tell them to look at themselves in the washroom mirror and tell themselves things like, “I am brave and I am strong. I want to win, but even if I don’t win this time, I won't give up trying.”

Now I look forward to my little early-morning pep talks. As ridiculous as this may sound, these days it actually feels good to look myself in the eyes and say something like that, because it's not just a rote exercise any more. I am brave and I am strong, and even if today's not my day, there's always tomorrow. It's an effort to pick myself up and keep going, but I won't quit, not when I've gotten this far.

Honestly, the thing I’m most proud of lately is eating. I still don’t really love consuming most foods, but eating feels less stressful to me now, and most of the time I’m able to look at food and think about eating without becoming anxious.

I'll admit, I have moments when I wish I could go back to formula and not have to put anything in my mouth. I still have my tube, and fresh formula is only as far away as the pharmacy, so the temptation is certainly there. When I feel like that, I have to remind myself of my goal and push through as best I can. Victor encourages me on my bad days too, and I always look at my sticker chart to remind me of the progress I've made so far.

Yes, for those who may be wondering, we did bring my sticker chart with us from Japan. Mama rolled it up and put it in one of those cardboard cylinders normally used for maps or architectural plans, and I carried it with me on the plane. it's hanging in our kitchen here in Willow Creek now.

If you're looking for an update on it, tomorrow is the twentieth of September — my twenty-sixth birthday, incidentally — and I'll only have twelve more days to go before I can say I've been formula-free for sixty consecutive days.

I’ve earned four small rewards so far, and in a couple of days I’ll earn the fifth one. I already know what it is, but Victor says we can’t bring it home until I complete this current ten-day stretch. It’s garden boxes, by the way. My previous reward was gardening tools, and the one before that was a book about growing vegetables.

I won’t be able to start my garden till next spring, but I’ve already picked out a spot for my boxes, and having the things now means a lot even if I have to wait to use them. Choosing what to grow and reading up on the best cultivation methods will keep me busy during the winter, and then I’ll be ready to plant my little crop when the time comes.

Victor says strawberries do well in this climate, so I think they’ll be first on my list. I’m already imagining eating strawberries I nurtured myself. Do you think love and hope will make them sweeter?

I haven’t even planted them yet and I have a whole multitude of emotions about them. Mostly, I’m excited. I’ve always wanted my own garden, but I pictured it as flowers, not vegetables and fruit. The idea that we have room here for both makes me happy, and I can hardly wait to grow my favourite Japanese lilies and hydrangea alongside my strawberries.

Anyway, please excuse me for getting slightly off-track. I was trying to tell you about my progress. Day sixty will be October first, and then I’ll get the big reward. I know what that’s going to be as well, and it is very big. Victor told me this morning. I guess he couldn’t keep the secret until my birthday, which is when he and my parents had evidently planned to tell me, but I forgive him. It was still a fantastic surprise, and to be fair, it’s a gift for both Victor and me, so I can’t blame him for being enthusiastic about it.

I’ll tell you exactly what it is in my next entry, but suffice it to say, keeping my eyes on this particular prize is going to motivate me through the next fortnight.

Unfortunately, even when I reach the sixty-day mark, I'll still have my tube for a few more weeks because my first appointment with Dr. Kim, my new specialist here in Willow Creek, isn't until the twenty-second of October. Meanwhile, I'm still having follow-up by way of video conferences with my nutritionist back in Kyoto, and Dr. Kasongo is technically still my doctor. When I finish my sixty days, I'll get to report my progress to them, and then Dr. Kasongo will probably write a letter to Dr. Kim to tell him I'm ready to have my tube removed.

Apparently, he can do it right there in his office in about five minutes. From what I understand, he'll numb the area with an injection of some sort of local anaesthetic, maybe something like the dentist uses, and then when I can't feel anything, he'll pull the device straight out. He'll put a dressing on the area, and we'll have to watch for any signs of infection for a week or so until the tube site heals closed.

According to the information sheet I read about G-tube removal, I'll have to rest a lot and eat several small meals of bland foods like rice and yogurt for the first forty-eight hours after it comes out, and I'll have to take showers instead of baths until the hole closes, but that's about it. It's not even supposed to be particularly painful. I'll have a scar, of course, but I can live with that.

Victor says it’ll be my badge of honour, a tangible reminder of having survived one of the toughest situations I’ve ever experienced.

“It’ll prove you’re a warrior,” he told me. “You fought the battle, and you came out on top. That’s the thing with courageous people, you know. They might be scared, but they don’t let their fear win.”

I will never, ever let my fear win again.

But, you’ve probably had enough of me going on about my health at this point, haven’t you? Let me rewind and tell you a bit about our lovely summer and about our move instead.

The biggest highlight of the summer for me was having everyone I love most all together in one place. I didn't think Victor would agree to stay at my parents' house. When Papa invited him, he said he'd have to think about it, and I was convinced he'd say no, but I'm glad he decided to take Papa up on his offer in the end. We shared my old room, and even though we’re married and it's totally normal for us to sleep in the same bed, somehow this felt like I was a teenager having a sleepover with my boyfriend every night.

Victor and I spent a lot of time together, going for long walks and visiting parts of town we hadn't seen in a while. We went to the public onsen in Kiyomatsu several times, and we visited the local shrine. On sunny days, we usually packed our lunch and ate it down by the lake. I've taken a liking to eating outside, and now I want a picnic table in the back yard so we can enjoy meals outdoors here as well.

Aside from our dates, picnics and leisurely walks, Victor and I also made time to hang out with our friends. I'm relieved to say, Fox forgave me for the horrible way I treated him. He seemed a little perplexed by my apology at first, not so much because of what I said but because of the way I bowed to him. Takahiro had to explain it to him, and then he ended up making a wholly unnecessary apology to me for the cultural confusion.

While I'm on the subject of Taka and Fox, I should mention that Taka passed his immigration English test. He also got accepted into the college program he applied for, and received his study permit in August. In a cosmic stroke of good timing, Taka's Canadian study permit arrived on the day Fox's Japanese work visa expired, and they left Japan together a few days later.

Back in the winter, Victor and I offered to let them stay with us, but a lot has changed for all of us since then. We were supposed to have arrived in Willow Creek ahead of them, but obviously that didn't happen. In the meantime, Fox was busy applying for jobs back home, and he got offered a social worker position with the Department of Community Services, beginning in September. He has a Master's degree in social work, so the offer was ideal, as the position is exactly what he'd trained for.

Fox's parents still aren't speaking to him, but his sister hasn't abandoned him. She helped him find an apartment that's affordable, close to the college so Taka can walk to school, and on a bus route that'll take Fox downtown to his office. They stayed with one of Fox's cousins for a few weeks until the old tenants moved out of the apartment, and then they moved into their place around the same time we moved into ours.

I can't even begin to describe how reassuring it is to have my friend Takahiro nearby, and he confessed that he felt similarly about me being here. As safe and content as we are with our respective partners, it's daunting to realize we're in a whole new country without our families and all the things we're used to. There's no escaping the fact that we're newcomers, but it's less scary knowing we're not alone in the experience.

I wish I could say things were going as well for Seiji as they are for Taka and me. Victor and I took a weekend trip to Kyoto in July, and we decided to visit him while we were there. We got the impression he didn't really want to see us, though, and we only stayed at his flat for about half an hour because the atmosphere was so awkward.

We made a lot of small talk, but he did tell us that he hates working at the convenience store and is trying to figure out what to do next. His mother wants him to come home and be her apprentice, but he said he can't picture himself as a tailor. That statement, when the only real furniture we saw in his flat besides a shikibuton, a thrifted table and two rickety chairs was a purpose-built desk with a sewing machine on it, was incongruous. But we didn't question it. Seiji is the only one who can decide which direction he should take.

Victor's theory is that Seiji does want to come home, but he's too embarrassed or ashamed to, after leaving the way he did. If that's the case, nothing we could've said would have convinced him anyway. He'll have to make up his own mind to set aside his pride or fear or whatever else may be holding him back.

It makes me sad to think of him being all alone in that bare, depressing flat. Despite all the hurtful things he said to me, I still consider him my friend and I want him to have a full and happy life. I'd like the chance to talk to him one-on-one, to explain some things and to let him get his feelings out. That may never happen, I realize, but I like to think I'm keeping the door open for the opportunity, should it ever arise.

The uncomfortable meeting with Seiji notwithstanding, Victor and I had the most magical weekend in Kyoto. We revisited all the places we went to during the week we'd gotten married. On one evening we attended an absolutely glorious performance by a local string quartet, and on another we went skating at an indoor rink where I was able to teach Victor a sporting skill for once. Would you believe I'm a better skater than him? Well... perhaps not better, but more graceful at least.

As for the rest of the summer, August passed in much the same way as July, with plenty of walks and outdoor meals and precious time with my family. One thing of particular note from August, however, was my meeting with Mr. Tanaka and the human resources representative from our firm. Dr. Kasongo submitted a report to our HR department recommending that my short-term disability claim should be extended until the end of the year. Her opinion is that I'll be medically ready to return to work in January, and both my boss and the HR department approved the extension.

I'm looking forward to getting back to work, but I'm also glad that I'll have the rest of the year to keep getting better. I was working remotely before, but now I'll be working extremely remotely, and I think it's great that I get to keep my old job even though I'm living in an entirely different country. Much to my delight, Mr. Tanaka seems to think so as well. He said it was a chance he couldn't possibly pass up because with me being fluent in English and physically located in Canada, our firm will be in a much better position to attract more North American clients. Mr. Tanaka said he'd contact me early in December to work out a schedule for regular meetings, and so we can discuss my job duties and responsibilities going forward.

Although he didn't directly say so, I think he may have given me a promotion of sorts. I'll be sure to let you know if that indeed turns out to be the case.

The other big thing in August was that Victor and I departed Japan on the thirty-first. We said our goodbyes to Mama and Yuki at home, and then Papa took us to the airport.

I could not have predicted how emotional that would be.

Papa and I have grown close this year, and I wish I could find the right way to express how much of the previously empty space in my soul he's filled. I knew I was missing him all those years when our relationship was so strained, but I could not have comprehended exactly how much until we both dropped our stubborn pride and opened up our hearts and minds to each other. Saying goodbye was even harder than I expected, and even though I knew it wouldn't be a permanent goodbye, part of me didn't want to let go.

He went with us all the way to the security area. We all stopped outside the big glass doors, and Papa held out his hand for Victor to shake.

"Take care of yourself, Victor," he said. "And take care of my son."

"I'll take the best care of him, I promise," Victor assured him. "Don't worry."

"I'm going to, regardless," Papa said. "But, I trust you."

"Thanks." Victor grinned mischievously at him. "But, you know, if you ever want to come check on him in person, you're welcome to visit us whenever you're able. We'll offer you a non-haunted bedroom."

Papa smiled. "Expect us for Winterfest, and tell Miss Sachiko that we wouldn't dream of taking her room."

"Will do," Victor said.

Then, Papa turned to me. For an instant, I thought he was going to shake my hand too, but at the last moment he pulled me into a hug. I can't remember the last time I was hugged by my father and didn't feel uncomfortable with it, but I had no problem this time. I put my arms around him and held on tight.

"We'll see you in a few months," he whispered into my hair, and I was startled when I realized he was crying.

But I guessed I couldn't fault him for it because my eyes certainly weren't dry either. "I'm really going to miss you."

"Me too," he said. "Think of me when you’re having your strawberry milkshakes."

"I'll think of you every day, no matter what I'm doing. You and Mama and Yuki."

"I love you, my treasure," he said quietly. "Be brave. Mama and I believe in you, and we know you're going to have a wonderful new life in Canada."

I was sobbing by that point, but I managed to get out, "I love you, Papa."

I meant it. Watcher help me… with every fibre of my being, I meant it, and I hadn't even grasped the full magnitude of my love for him until that very moment.

When he walked away, I couldn't watch. Victor held me while I cried my heart out, right there in the middle of the crowded airport.

"It's gonna be okay, Yuri," Victor said. "He's right, you know. We're gonna have a wonderful life."

It was hard to believe that when I felt like my heart was breaking, but once we were in the air and away, I began to feel better. On the plane, we looked at pictures of various places around Willow Creek that we'd taken back in June, photos of Dr. Grace and Dr. Julian's wedding, and some funny snaps we'd taken of ourselves and Yuki in my room at my parents’ house. We talked about our plans and dreams, and we made up stories about ourselves in the far future. Cute old men in rocking chairs on our front porch, Victor said, and the image made me smile.

We arrived at the tiny Willow Creek airport around mid-morning the next day, where we were met by Victor's mother. She drove us home, and as we were getting out of the car, she handed Victor a set of keys.

"Here you go," she said. "Your grandpa was supposed to be here with the set you gave him, but apparently he and Juliet went on a spur-of-the-moment road trip to Oasis Springs. He said to pass along his apologies. He’ll be here next week."

Victor looked amused. "How much you want to bet they're eloping?"

"Victor!" Dr. Grace exclaimed. "Michael wouldn't do that."

"You don't think?" Victor's raised eyebrow said he might've known something his mother didn't.

Dr. Grace shook her head. "You're impossible, you know. You and your Grandpa Michael.”

"Yeah, we get that a lot."

"Well, I'll leave the two of you to settle in," she said. "Come over around five o'clock. Julian's making his famous chicken parmigiana."

"What's that?" I asked.

"Italian food," Victor replied. "I think you'll like it."

“Strawberry cake for dessert,” Dr. Grace added. “Because I heard somebody around here really enjoys strawberries.”

Victor winked at me. “I wonder who that could be?”

“I’ll see you boys at dinner,” Dr. Grace said

She wished us a good day, and then she got back into her car and drove across the street. It's nice, living across the street from Victor's mother and stepfather. I know Victor's happy about it, and I like knowing we have somebody close we can rely on if we ever need anything.

Once Victor's mother had left, I was ready to go inside. I started for the doorstep, but Victor held up his hand to stop me. "Just wait right there, okay?"

"Why?" I asked, as I watched him bound up the steps.

He unlocked the front door and flung it wide open before rejoining me on the walkway. "Because," he said. "I'm gonna carry you over the threshold. Isn't that what they do in those historical movies you like?"

I laughed. "That's for newlyweds, Victor. We've been married nearly a year."

"Yeah, but we didn't have our own house when we were newlyweds, did we?"

"Are you certain you can even still lift me? And your arms—"

"My arms are fine, and you're not that much heavier than you used to be. If I can't still carry you a few meters, I think that'll be a sign to go harder on the weight training."

"Okay," I said. I was a little dubious, but also secretly thrilled at the thought of being carried. It'd been a long time, and I'd be lying if I said I didn't miss it.

"Okay," Victor said. "Ready?"

I nodded, and a second later he scooped me up as seemingly effortlessly as he ever had. He carried me up the steps and through the door, and then set me down carefully in the front hallway.

"Welcome home," he said.

I wanted to run through the place and look at everything, touch everything, and soak in the knowledge that this was our home. Mine and Victor's. It was the place where we'd truly build our intertwined lives, where we'd finish growing up and growing old together. Our goals and dreams would spring from here, and we'd live happily ever after because even if the world around us was in chaos, happiness comes from the inside. Victor taught me that, and once I finally understood it, my outlook changed completely. Life may not always be smooth sailing, but together we can survive any storm and come out smiling on the other side of it.

Before I ran off to explore every corner of the house and garden, there was something I needed to do.

"Thank you," I said.

"For what?"

"For not giving up on me. For being my soulmate and my superhero and my... everything."

Victor leaned down to kiss me, and I let myself melt into his embrace. I closed my eyes, breathing in the soft, sweet scent of coconut sunscreen and relishing the solid warmth of his body against mine. It was comforting and familiar, and it felt like the fulfillment of all my desires. For a moment, I forgot that I was in a foreign country, forgot that I had responsibilities... forgot everything that wasn't the sensation of being held by my husband.

"You are the most amazing person," Victor whispered with his lips still almost touching mine. "I'm lucky, getting to share the rest of my life with you."

I'm the lucky one, I thought. I don't know if I'd even be here to recount this to all of you if it weren't for Victor. I know he'd never take credit for saving me and would probably say I saved myself, but I couldn't have done it without him. I no longer think of repayment, but it's still important to me to show gratitude for everything he's done, and I think the best way I can do that is to appreciate the life he's helped me reclaim and live it to the fullest of my capability.

I stood on tiptoe to kiss him one more time and then, hand in hand, we set out to acquaint ourselves with every detail of our beautiful new home.

[bangtansmauyeondan]

Changing Seasons (a KNJ oneshot)

Based on the song Is It Still Beautiful (Hospital Playlist 2 OST) by Seungkwan, Woozi and DK of Seventeen

Pairing: Arts and Travel Blogger!Namjoon x Restaurateur!Fem Reader

Genre: Angst, Exes AU

Rating: 16+

Word Count: 2.3K

Warnings: None

Summary: After three years of traveling in and around Europe to feed his hunger and passion for travel and the arts, Namjoon returned home to his first love.

PERMANENT TAGLIST: @highly-functioning-mitochondria @persphonesorchid @thatbangtanjagiya @jjwamaisvu @taestefully-in-luv @btsstan12 @bts-reveries @blog-name-idk @madbutgloriouspond @pamzn @wrmnssoul @ygbubs @halesandy

••••

“Namjoon, are you ready?” Hoseok stuck his head through the door of his hotel room, suitcase lagging behind, ready to leave.

“Yep!” Namjoon patted the pockets of his jeans. “Just making sure I have everything with me before I leave.”

“Passport?”

“Here,” Namjoon took a peek inside the fanny pack across his chest for good measure.

“Come on, let’s go. Yoongi hyung is already at the airport,” Hoseok pushed the door wide open to assist his friend with his suitcase. “He’s gonna start whining again if we’re late.”

“Our flight is in three hours!” Namjoon looked at his friend incredulously.

“Tell him then!” Hoseok challenged.

“Yeah, no. Nevermind.”

*********

The usually bustling Incheon International Airport wasn’t that crowded when they landed, and so the three of them have decided to stop by the cafe for something to nibble on before they go their separate ways.

“Ah, it feels good to be back home,” Hoseok sighed leaning back on his chair as he chewed on his bagel. “I swear, I can’t wait to speak in my jeolla dialect 24/7.”

Namjoon and Yoongi chuckled at their friend’s statement. The three of them have been friends since high school and equally have big dreams. They were away for three years collectively, with Yoongi and Hoseok working together in the international music scene, hopping between the US and the UK, and Namjoon exploring arts in and around Europe. Finally being able to take a three-month break at the same time, the three friends have decided that it’s a no-brainer– they have to fly back home to their motherland.

“Planning anything exciting while we’re home?” Hosek asked them. “My sister is getting married in Jeju Island, but I don’t have any other plans during my stay.” He continued.

“I’m gonna head straight home and probably hug Holly for hours,” Yoongi smiled at the thought of his pooch. “Heading straight to Ilsan, Joon?”

Namjoon hesitated, nibbling on his lower lip. A beat of silence passed until he realized that his friends were waiting for his answer. “I’m checking in at a hotel for the night and then I'll head to Ilsan tomorrow.” He didn’t miss the way his friends exchanged glances between each other. “I’m visiting ______ at her restaurant today.”

“Yah, Namjoon-ah…” Worry flooded Hoseok’s face. He was about to say something when Yoongi waved his hand dismissively at him.

“Let him. He needs it.” Yoongi turned to Namjoon, giving him a tight-lipped smile and an encouraging nod.

He’s right. He needed it. He needed to see how things have turned out himself.

THREE YEARS AGO

The cozy atmosphere in the quaint little cafe did nothing to calm the cold and the storm raging inside Namjoon’s chest as he clutched your hands on top of the table.

“It’s not fair to either of us…” You looked up at him, almond-shaped eyes gazing into his sharp dragon eye-shaped ones. The soft glow from the fairy lights hanging by the window reflecting against your glassy eyes made your chocolate-colored orbs a little bit more sparkly. “I don’t want to do this anymore.”

Namjoon nodded, albeit holding back his own tears. He wouldn’t let you see him break. Hell, he’s not even sure if you really meant that much to him… what did you really mean to him? You were like a moth drawn to a flame. He’s the flame whose warmth radiates so brightly, you have mistaken it for something more. He had big dreams, bigger than anything else, bigger than what he felt for you. As much as he could see how supportive you were on his travels, and how you listened to him as he constantly rambled about arts every night while tangled up in his sheets, he still felt like you were pulling him back. He felt constrained, like a balloon tied up to a boulder, he couldn’t soar up high. You’re a simple girl– you're passionate about food, produce, and farming. You grew up on a farm and your dream has always revolved around bringing the freshest ingredients from the ground to the consumer’s table. He, on the other hand, wanted to see what the world has to offer. He once asked you to travel with him during his internship in Paris, and although you didn’t say much, he knew your heart wasn’t in it.

You’re right. It’s not fair to either of you. Asking you to uproot yourself and travel with him was not the risk he would want to take, for fear that in the end, you might loathe him. For fear that in the end, he would realize that what he felt for you isn’t love. After all, that is the territory neither of you have tried dipping your toes into.

“I get where you’re coming from, ______.” Namjoon gave you a reassuring smile before bringing your hands to his lips, giving your knuckles a gentle kiss. “Thank you,” another kiss. “I’m so sorry I couldn’t be that person for you.”

“You don’t need to apologize,” you returned his reassuring smile. “Go follow your dreams, Namjoon. I won’t be able to forgive myself if you don’t.”

“Do you promise to keep in touch?”

“I promise.”

“Go accept your dad’s proposal, ______.” He reached out and tucked the loose strand of hair hovering in front of your face behind your ear. “Take over the family business. I’m rooting for you.”

You nodded.

The night ended with you in his tight embrace in front of your apartment, promising each other to stay friends, no matter what.

*********

At first, I was comfortable being alone

I had freedom with my decisions and my time

It was like I had erased the memory of you

I really believed I did

But, you see, when I open my eyes early in the morning, alone

And I learn that you are not by my side

Tears start flowing without me realizing

*********

From: namjoon@rkiveblog.kr

Date: May 25, 2017 at 12:24:55 PM

To: hello_yn@freshharvest.kr

Subject: Finally!

Hi Yn,

I just checked into my accommodation in Paris. My agent said the renovations aren’t done at the new apartment complex so I have to stay here for another week. Bummer, eh?

By the way, I have taken a lot of photos during my layover and will be posting them on the blog tonight. Can’t wait for you to see them!

How are things over there?

Yours,

KNJ

From: hello_yn@freshharvest.kr

Date: May 26, 2017 at 03:26:15 PM

To: namjoon@rkiveblog.kr

Subject: RE: Finally!

Hey Joon!

Glad you made it to your accommodation safely. :) As long as the museum would shoulder the extra expenses for your accommodation, I guess it’s alright? Hope you’re eating well.

My parents were over the moon when I told them that I’m ready to take the business off of their plate. I’m a bit scared! But my dad said his business partner would help me. Apparently, their eldest child took over their farm about a year ago too. So I guess I would be okay!

Can’t wait to read your blog tonight!

<3,

___________

From: namjoon@rkiveblog.kr

Date: December 25, 2017 at 12:24:55 PM

To: hello_yn@freshharvest.kr

Subject: Merry Christmas!

Christmas in Amsterdam is something else. I love it here!

Hope you and your family are doing well.

Yours,

KNJ

From: hello_yn@freshharvest.kr

Date: December 25, 2017 at 07:24:45 PM

To: namjoon@rkiveblog.kr

Subject: RE: Merry Christmas!

Hey Joon!

Merry Christmas! I saw your Amsterdam photos on Instagram and it is indeed beautiful! We’re having so much fun on this side of the world too. We made little Christmas trees and decorated them with real strawberries (baubles) and spun sugar (tinsel).

<3,

___________

******

It’s one of those nights again… streaks of colors decorated his blank canvas, creating an abstract in a rough floral pattern, depicting you… your softness, your femininity; depicting his longing. He didn’t know how to overcome those nights over the years, so he indulged them. He owed it to himself. It’s one of those nights again when he found himself running to the nearest payphone booth to call you from across the globe. It was secured, untraceable, and the minutes were limited. It would restrict him from pouring his heart out to you over the phone. He just wanted to hear your voice. He just wanted to hear your smile, as he closed his eyes, imagining you’re standing in front of him. He just wanted to numb his pain. He missed you… and the realization hit him like a tonne of bricks. He loved you. He was in love with you.

*******

Have any of the things that used to make me smile changed?

Is the way in which you talk still the same?

I have changed, I don't smile like I used to

I'm a little thinner than when I was with you

On the last days you comprehended me

I mistook it and believed you were imprisoning me

Saying that I was too manly for it, I didn't even say I love you

But my blank sheet of paper is now filled with your name

And when I call you while writing down and I hear your voice

Tears start flowing without me realizing

*******

True to your words, you both kept in touch over the years. Each major life event, each milestone; every occasion, every celebration, documented electronically via e-mails and social media posts and comments.

You cried over the phone to him when you opened your own farm-to-table restaurant. Solidifying and finding comfort for himself that your mutual decision of breaking up all those years ago was all worth it.

He couldn’t not tell you when his boss allowed him to go on a three-month long vacation, and like the kind-hearted person that you are, you invited him over to your restaurant insisting that you would be making him the best ‘welcome home’ meal that anyone would be jealous of.

The night before his flight back home, he rummaged through his inbox and reread your emails in the last few months. He mulled over your words and the photos you have attached. You looked the happiest– your eyes lighting up, forming into crescents, with every smile. It tugged on his heartstrings a little bit, wishing he was the person who could make you smile like that. But there are things that he couldn’t just bring back. The best he could do is to hold onto those memories… and maybe one day, forgive himself, too.

*******

Have any of the things that used to make me smile changed?

Is the way in which you talk still the same?

I have changed, I don't smile like I used to

I'm a little thinner than when I was with you

*******

PRESENT DAY

You ran up to him the moment he opened the door to the empty restaurant and gave him the warmest hug anyone could ever ask for. He couldn’t help but close his eyes as he rested his chin on your shoulder while hugging you back. You said you closed it down for the day because you wanted to focus on filling his tummy and not worry about the other customers.

“Joonie!!!” You giggled. “Oh my god, it’s been so long!”

“Ahh, it has indeed!” Namjoon straightened up and scrunched up his nose at you. “I smell something delicious!”

“Come in!! Come sit at your table!” You ushered him at one of the tables, a tall glass of iced americano and a selection of tea, already waiting. “Do you wanna know what we have on the menu for you today?”

“Pray tell!”

“Well, okay, I don’t want to tell you everything,” you rolled your eyes and he hated that he still found it cute. “But I harvested a bunch of greens from the back and made you a salad, with strawberries and feta! I’m pretty sure you’re gonna love the sweet and savory combination.” You proudly said, talking animatedly.

Namjoon couldn’t help but smile up at you. You’re like sunshine personified.

“And for the main course, it’s– oh gosh,” you caught yourself. “Just… surprise!”

Namjoon took a moment to take in his surroundings. Everything screamed you. The restaurant interior was cozy and rustic, and just gave off the farm-slash-barn vibe that you have always dreamed of. Just one look outside of the massive windows, and one would know that the restaurant served only the freshest ingredients, harvested and prepared in-house.

The door of the kitchen swung open and a brooding tall handsome man stepped out, approaching the two of you with a warm smile. He’s dressed in a chef’s jacket and Namjoon recognized him from the photos you sent him over the months. He knew who he is.

“Oh finally!” You acknowledged the man. “All good back there?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Namjoon watched as you stepped away to meet the man’s strides halfway. You snaked your arm around his waist and rested your other hand on his chest. Namjoon stood up with a smile and bowed to him politely in greeting, which he immediately returned.

“I can’t wait to finally introduce you two!” You said, eyes fleeting between the two of them.

“Hi!” the tall handsome man extended his hand to him for a handshake and Namjoon accepted it with both hands.

“Namjoon, meet our Executive Chef!” You smiled proudly. “This is my husband, Seokjin.”

*******

How is he?

Is he good enough to you to make you forget the days we spent together?

Please be happy, because you met a person good enough to fill the places in which I lacked

*******