#i just got a laptop to use that's why i tried it again lol

[cherryhanji]

it's been a while.

it’s alexa. it’s been a while since i visited this cutesy lil escape of mine, adulting kept me busy and won’t give at least a bit of time for me to think and write something.

i came back because as i listen to this specific song, it sparked something in me, makes me wanna write that based off from it.

listen to it and i hope it’ll make you smile just the way it made me smile.

also made me think of my boyfriend lol

there is no specific time when will i post this one up, my writing time is really indefinite, and unfortunately i'm not like me from the last time already, in short, i have changed (but not in a bad way) it's just that my writing skills is not that good now lol.

and i'll just think of this blog as a diary, where i'll write most of my thoughts in every day that past. and post it whenever i feel like it

and most of all, please know i missed you guys! it's still me ur friend, alexa. <3

mentioning everyone whom i'll will never forget and still even mentions me on their posts/stories! *i'm keeping an eye out on your stories hihi

@starlostseungmin @lix-ables @starlighthan @ballelino @jeonqqin @stray-but-okay @blue-jisungs @blueprint-han @yanjeongs @cartierbin and to everyone who still reads my stuff! i love you indeed~!

[abbs-writes]

talk too much | Spencer Reid

Warnings: kidnapping, torture, lots of bad language, Spencer gets angry and can be kinda mean, reader talks way too much, crying, uh lots and lots of angst and idk what else

Authors note: hey so, a while back I had a different account (ive had many different accounts) but it was something along the lines of gizmo-writes or gizmo-writes-sfw and this was posted on there but my accounts have been deleted since then, so if it seems familiar it might be but I can confirm it's by me, it's been sitting in my notes lol

"Guys! Guys! I got something!" Garcia rushed into the conference room, setting her laptop on the table and turning on the tv. There you were, completely out of it, obviously with the way your head lolled back. You were heated up, bruised badly and your head was bleeding but you were obviously so out of it that you didn't even notice. "Where is this coming from?" Hotch asked as Garcia shook her head, "I-I don't know, it's pinging off to many towers, whoever is doing this is- is using so many different encryptions and firewalls." (genuinely don't know tech terminology im so sorry if this took y'all out of it I apologize) She was shaking, so worried about you she wasn't sure she could think straight.

Spencer was the same way, but he knew he couldn't think straight. The way you looked, where you were, reminded him so much of how Tobias Hankle had treated him. Every single aspect that he had tried so hard to forget was coming back to him now. The abuse, the drugs, the cravings. He held onto the chair with an iron grip, knuckles turning white. He didn't want to see you like this, he didn't like the thoughts running through his head right now. He didn't wanna see the abuse you were going to endure, he didn't want to hear your tortured screams. This was his own form of torture.

You really couldn't feel anything but you figured that was for the better. Your head rolled to the side, your eyes were open but everything was so blurry you couldn't even see. You could make up an outline of someone, someone tall. For a moment you felt joy, you felt safety. "Spence?" You said. But it was spencer, he was on the other side of a screen and when he heard his name, his heart broke. He wanted to be able to yell at you, tell you that it wasn't him, tell you to run even if you weren't sure if your legs could move. But he couldn't, he just had to sit there and watch.

"Not quite," The man said, walking closer to you so you could see him. Your eyes narrowed as you realized the man in front of you truly wasn't Spencer and was in fact some psycho. You jerked in your restraints, trying to punch whoever was in front of you but yet you couldn't move. "Good try," he chuckled coldly. "Jesus christ," you murmured, looking down to see your hands tied to the chair. "You're begging for someone who doesn't exist honey," the man said. You rolled your eyes at that, "seriously? Why do you care if I beg for someone you don't believe in? Besides i wasn't begging I was-" You were cut off with a sharp slap to your face.

Spencer really wished you weren't so catty sometimes. Sure, he liked it sometimes, especially when you were able to stick up for yourself or him when someone said something rude. But right now he was begging you to keep your mouth shut. "Was that really necessary? You could've just told me to shut up-" once again you were slapped again. "Shut the fuck up!" He yelled at you. "Okay!" You yelled back. Spencer cringed, "why won't she just be quiet," he groaned. "Spence, she's trying-" JJ started but Spence stopped her, "I don't care what she was trying! She knows better than to fight back when she's unable to physically fight! All this will do is get her in more trouble!" He said, slamming his fist on the table as he watched you. "Kid, she's a smart girl." Derek tried to say but spencer shook his head, "She's not being smart right now." He said.

Spencer was right, you weren't being smart and deep down you knew that but god, you were so fucking angry. Angry at yourself, angry at the man in front of you. You don't even remember how you were taken, you don't remember what you did for this to happen, all you knew is it had to somehow be your fault. "Finally, she shuts up," the man said, grabbing your face and making you look up at him. "You're much prettier when you're quiet. Does your boyfriend ever tell you that? I bet he does because you can never seem to just shut the fuck up," he spat. You clenched your jaw at the mention of Spencer. "How the Fuck do you know about my boyfriend?" You asked, looking up at him angrily. "Why? Does that bother you when I mention him? Does it make you angry that i know about him?" He asked, squeezing your face to the point that it hurt. "Don't fucking touch him," you spat at him making the man pull back and wipe his space of your spit. "God, you're really fucking dumb aren't you?" He said. "Still smarter than you," you said.

Spencer couldn't watch this, he couldn't watch you dig yourself into a hole that he wasn't sure you'd come out alive. His jaw clenched as he watched you be tased, your head falling back as you cried out in pain. "Oh my god," Garcia said, shielding her eyes. Spencer forced himself to watch, he had to know, he had to see what happened so he would know how to help you when you got back. He needed to know, despite the fact that these images would be engrained in his brain forever.

"This isn't helping, we need to figure out where she is and I don't know how watching this will help." JJ spoke, half tired of watching you be tortured and half wanting to actually find you. "I don't see anything identifying in the background, no windows, no pictures." Emily pointed out. "She might say something if she knew he was filming. She may know where she is." Derek pointed out. "She can barely even see straight and with how much she's talking she might not even make it through the night," Spencer muttered. "Spence!" JJ said. "What?! I'm right! I love her but she never shuts the fuck up and right now it may cause her death but yet she's still too fucking stubborn to just shut the fuck up and pay attention," He spat. He was angry, he had every right to be. but his anger was misdirected at you. He was mad at the unsub, mad that a man took you and was holding you hostage and torturing you. He wasn't mad at you, a bit annoyed but never mad.

"Spencer, you are not helping us right now. We understand you're mad but you have no right to talk about her like that." JJ said. Spencer just shook his head, jaw clenching. "As much as you may hate this Reid, we need you. And what we need is for you to watch, to listen, see if her or she says something that may give us a hint. Can you do that? Or do I need to kick you out?" Emily asked, giving him a pointed look. "I understand, i Can do that." He said through gritted teeth. He finally sat down and just stared at the tv. He was thankful you couldn't hear him, he genuinely felt bad about what he said but he couldn't even apologize to you because you weren't here.

Your head fell forward after being tased multiple times finally stopped. "Will you be quiet now?" The man asked. You nodded, reluctantly. You wanted to speak but you were in so much pain you couldn't. You were shaking, you couldn't even move your head with how tired your body was. "Good, finally." He said, "now you can get a good look at this." The man said as he walked behind you. He grabbed your head roughly by your hair, pulling your head back to look up. You tried to focus your eyes but you couldn't, everything was so blurry and your head had started to hurt. "Do you see that? They can see you. They're watching. God, that's what makes this fun, knowing they're watching you but they can't do anything to help. Isn't that fun?" He asked. You didn't respond and obviously that made him angry. He yanked your head back by your hair making you let out a pathetic cry. "Answer me," he demanded. "Thought you didn't want me to talk?" You said tiredly. "You're a fucking brat you know that? I don't know how anyone puts up with you." He let go of your hair and your head fell forward once again.

Spencer closed his eyes tightly, breathing heavily. This was torture for him and now he knew the unsub was enjoying it. The unsub knew this wasn't only torture for you but for them too and he loved it. He hated every second of this, he hated every time you opened your mouth. It pained him, he knew you were angry, it didn't take a profiler to see that, but he just couldn't understand why you wouldn't stop talking back.

"I have to go out, you stay put okay?" He said, pushing your hair out of your face. It was oddly tender coming from a man who had just slapped you, tased you and pulled your hair and not in the enjoyable way. "Gotta make sure you look pretty for your boyfriend," he said. He then grabbed his keys and left. You couldn't think straight, everything was setting in so slowly. They were watching, you kept having to repeat that to yourself till you would believe it was true. You tried to lift your head but it just fell back down. You groaned, angry at yourself that you couldn't even look at the camera. You had something to tell them, you had seen the unsubs face and they hadn't. He wore a black ski mask around you and know you knew why, he had been filming this.

"B-bl-blue eyes," you spoke slowly, tiredly. You needed to get this out before you passed out again. Spencer raised his head to watch you. "H-he has blue eyes and brown hair." You had to stop to breathe. "S-scar on his face, left side on his cheek. P-please understand I am okay, i am strong," you croaked out. Your voice was betraying you and you hated it. It made you angry, making you clench your fists. "I can take It.. i-i don't know where I am.. it's the woods- i-I don't remember how I got here. Please- just find me," you closed your eyes tightly trying to hold back your tears. You dug your nails into the wood of the chair trying to calm yourself and ground yourself. Spencer had to stop himself from crying too, "Garcia, did you get that?" He asked. "Yes- yes I did. I'm looking. I'm searching. Uh blue eyes, dark hair, scar- uh- Jeffery Golden," She said looking at Spencer. "Name and address?" JJ asked. "Sending now," Garcia said. The team stood up and were quick to leave, Spencer included.

Garcia kept watch on you, once the team left she broke down and started crying. She had to constantly remind herself that you were okay but it was hard, especially when she was watching you fall apart in front of her eyes. They found the man, Jeffery Golden. But the problem was, you weren't there, you weren't in his house nor his job. You weren't there and that scared the shit out of Spencer. They had the man but no clue where you were and if they didn't find you soon, you may not survive due to your injuries. Sure, he could see the ones on the outside but he wasn't sure about any internal bleeding.

"Where is she?" Rossi asked the unsub who was sitting across the table from him. "Now where's the fun in telling you?" He asked, smirk playing in his face. "If you tell us where she is, we will tell them you cooperated. Now tell us where she is." Hotch said in his demanding tone. "Where's the boyfriend? I wanna talk to him," he said, leaning back in his chair. "Absolutely not, you tell us where she is and maybe we will talk about a deal." Rossi said. "Here's my deal, you let me talk to the doctor and then I'll tell you where she is." He said, still smirking.

With that Hotch and Rossi walked out. "Let me in there," Spencer immediately said. "No, we don't know if he's being honest," Hotch said. "That doesn't matter, if he's willing to talk then I should go in there." Spencer said. "He just wants to mess with you Reid, he has said it himself that he enjoys this." Rossi said. "I don't care, this is our only chance. Please just let me talk to him. Please," Spencer begged. Hotch shook his head, "Fine, but the second it goes wrong I will pull you out of there." He said. Spencer nodded before walking into the room.

"There he is, the stunning Dr. Spencer Reid." The unsub said, relaxing in his seat as Spencer and Hotch walked in. "How are you? How have you been?" He asked but no one spoke. Hotch sat down, "Reid," he said. Spencer stared at the guy as he sat down. "Oof, someone is angry, how can you truly be angry over someone like her? If anything I think she needs this. Someone needs to teach her to keep her mouth shut, arent I right, Dr. Reid?" He asked. Spencer was unwavering, showing no emotion. "Where is she?" Was all he asked. "Oh come on, give me something Spence! I know you think of her the same way I do. An annoying brat who has never learned to shut the fuck up and look where it got her. She needed to learn her lesson." He stated. Still he remained emotionless. "You said if we brought him in here, you would tell us where she is." Spencer said. "I said that and I may have lied. But come on, admit it. You hate her just like I do." He said. Spencer slammed his fists on the table, "I love her! Tell me where she is!" He yelled. Hotch stood up, "Reid, out," he said sternly. "No, Hotch he fucking knows where-" Hotch cut him off, "Out!" He said louder this time. Finally, Spencer listened and left the room. "I got something! Y/n said something about the woods so I looked into him-" Garcia was speaking fast but still Hotch stopped her, "Garcia," he said. "I think I have an address." Garcia said. She then immediately sent the address to the team and they were quick to be on their way.

Spencer was the first to find you, of course he was. He was on a mission and the mission was finding you. "Y/n, y/n, im here," he said, grabbing your face gently and pulling you up to look at him. You groaned in response as JJ undid your cuffs. "Look at me, tell me you hear me, please," Spencer begged. "You're so loud," you muttered, giving him a weak smile as your eyes slowly opened. God, it was good to see his face. "I know, im loud, i talk a lot, I worry, but god, im so happy you're okay," Spencer said, stroking your face. "I wouldn't say I was okay," you spoke so softly spencer could barely even hear you. But for once, he was so happy to hear your sass. "I know, the ambulance is coming. We'll get you checked out and you'll be okay." He said. He was the only thing keeping you from freaking out, from worry about the extensive list of injuries you'd have. It just felt so good to be in his hands again that you didn't care about your pain or injuries.

The ambulance showed up but god you were grateful. You felt so close to passing out and you didn't want to. You wanted to see Spencer, you wanted to remember his face just like he could remember yours. You wanted to memorize him, you wanted to love him. "Hey, it's okay, I'm still here." Spencer said as he held your hand in the ambulance. "Spence?" Your voice was soft and hard to hear through the oxygen mask. You pulled it down with your shaking hand. "Hey, no, no, you need that," Spencer said, trying to put it back but you shook your head. "N-no, im so sorry. Im sorry i talk too much. I'm sorry I did this-" Spencer shook his head, "No, you didn't do this, this wasn't your fault." He said, trying to comfort you. "Yes it was Spence, I talk to much, I made him hurt me because I can't shut up. I'm sorry, I'm so sorry. I'll learn, i promise," you began to cry. You tried to be strong but you knew you couldn't. No amount of sass would mask just how hurt you were.

Spencer hated this, no matter how many times he would say it, you would never believe it wasn't your fault. No matter what he would say, you would never be yourself again. You wouldn't be able to be sassy again, you wouldn't be as stubborn as you was. And he'd miss it, he'd miss every second of it. Every second of you talking back to him, every second of you being too stubborn to stay back with Garcia, he'd miss every single second of it and it broke him.

[redroomreflections]

Hotel California | Track 2 - Electric Desires

Natasha Romanoff x Fem!Reader

Summary: Natasha Romanoff, frontwoman of the punk rock band Velvet Rebellion, falls hard for a woman she believes is too good for her. Their intense relationship unfolds in the chaotic world of rock 'n' roll, where they struggle to balance fame, personal demons, and their undeniable passion for each other.

W/c: 7.2k

Chapter 2/12

Masterlist | General Masterlist

Note: Each chapter is hella long because I had time to sit and wait to release this one. Weekly updates might be the wave.

R and Nat will be moving quickly so if you like slow burn this isn't the story lol.

Themes: love, fame, sex, drugs

Natasha sat cross-legged on the worn-out couch in their cluttered studio: which was just Tony’s garage. The room buzzed with creative energy and the faint scent of old leather, a familiar combination that fueled the essence of Velvet Rebellion. She strummed her guitar absentmindedly, her fingers dancing over the fretboard, creating a gentle hum in the room. She was in her element in full force. 

Steve, Bucky, Wanda, and Tony were huddled around a battered coffee table, scraps of lyrics, and scribbled notes strewn about like confetti after a wild party. They were her bandmates, her comrades in music, and tonight they were deep into a songwriting session. Natasha enjoyed days like this the most. She often found the songwriting process frustrating but fulfilling, which is why they’re on hour four of this session with only the first verse written. It seems she’s not the only one with writer’s block. 

"Natasha, we need something here," Steve’s voice cut through the room's creative haze. He furrowed his brow, fingers dancing over the keys of a vintage synthesizer. "A melody to tie this verse together."

Natasha tore her gaze away from her guitar and glanced over at Wanda. Her fingers stopped mid-strum. She blinked; her thoughts momentarily disrupted.

"Nat, you with us?" Tony chimed in, his eyes darting between Natasha and his laptop.

A flush of embarrassment washed over Natasha. She'd been lost in thought, her mind wandering where it shouldn't have. She’d been thinking about you again. She couldn’t get you out of her head. There was a hint of exhaustion on her features as she sat her guitar next to her. She’d spent the previous night going down a rabbit hole of YouTube videos involving you. It seemed you’d understated how good of a musician you were. Natasha discovered you had a small fanbase with plenty of videos dedicated to your brief yet impactful career. Even if your resume included a lot of backup singing, she could see why there was a push for you to strive for something more. You were talented in every sense of the word. 

With a sheepish smile, she nodded. "Sorry, guys. Got a bit distracted there."

She fumbled to put her phone face down on the coffee table, hoping her bandmates hadn't noticed her constant glances at the silent screen. Natasha had been replaying every moment of your brief encounter at the party in her mind, questioning if she'd made a connection or if it was just another fleeting moment.

Steve’s fingers continued their dance on the synthesizer as he tried out different melodies, his voice soft, almost hypnotic. "No worries, Nat. Happens to the best of us."

But Natasha couldn't help but feel a pang of frustration with herself. She was the lead singer and lyricist and usually held everything together. Yet today, her mind was scattered, torn between music and an unexpected, lingering hope that her phone would light up with a message from someone she'd barely known.

Natasha's fingers deftly reached for her well-worn writing book, nestled among scattered lyrics and half-finished songs. Her eyes scanned the pages, searching for something that had evaded her for far too long. Her bandmates carried on their musical discussion, oblivious to her momentary distraction.

Finally, she found it—a scribbled idea that had haunted her thoughts for weeks but had remained unreachable, refusing to take a tangible form. Natasha's heart raced as she read the words, her handwriting staring back at her, challenging her to bring them to life.

"Guys, hold on a sec," she called out, her voice trembling with excitement. Her bandmates stopped their conversation, turning their attention to her. Natasha's fingers tapped the page she'd found. "I think I've got something."

Wanda leaned in closer, her eyes gleaming with curiosity. "What is it?"

Natasha cleared her throat and began to read the lyrics she'd unearthed, her voice carrying a hint of the sweet melody she envisioned:

"Underneath the city lights, I saw your face,

In the crowded room, you were my saving grace.

A glance, a smile, it all fell into place,

In that moment, I knew, love's tender embrace."

As Natasha recited the lyrics, Wanda's eyes widened, and she nodded appreciatively. "That's beautiful, Natasha."

Natasha couldn't help but blush at the compliment. She felt the lyrics were deeply personal, a reflection of the emotions she'd been grappling with. "Thanks, Wanda. But I think it's missing something."

Wanda leaned in closer, her fingers lightly grazing Natasha's arm as they huddled together over the writing book. "What do you have in mind?"

A spark of inspiration flickered in Natasha's eyes. "How about this? Instead of just a glance and a smile, it's about meeting someone and falling in love at first sight. The moment your heart skips a beat."

Wanda's lips curved into a knowing smile. "I like that. It adds depth to the story."

With renewed enthusiasm, Natasha began to sing the modified lyrics, her voice filled with emotion:

"In the heart of the city, I met your eyes,

In that instant, I felt my soul take flight.

Love at first sight, a sweet surprise,

Two worlds colliding, under starry skies."

The words flowed effortlessly, weaving a sweet melody that resonated with everyone in the room. Sitting behind his drum kit, Tony started tapping a rhythm, adding a pulsating beat to the song. Steve found his way back to the keyboard, his fingers searching for the chords that matched the melody.

The studio came alive with the energy of collaboration as they played off each other, improvising and experimenting. Wanda's voice dipped into low notes, adding a haunting harmony, while Tony began to find a mix to add to the music. 

It wasn't the final product but the magic of creation—their music taking shape from a mere spark of inspiration. Natasha couldn't help but smile as they continued to refine the song. 

Bucky sat down his guitar, a sly grin playing on his lips as the melody they'd created together hung in the air. He couldn't help but feel a shift in Natasha's usual songwriting style, one that intrigued him. "Nat, you're getting into writing love songs now?"

Natasha shot him a playful yet challenging look, her fingers still scribbling along the notebook pages. "Oh, please, Bucky. We had love songs on our first album."

Bucky chuckled, shaking his head. "Not like this. These lyrics, they're something else."

Natasha sighed, closing the tiny notebook again. She knew he was right, and she couldn't deny the shift in her lyrics and her emotions. "Alright, fine. Maybe I am writing a love song."

Bucky leaned forward, his gaze intense. "So, are you in love, Natasha?"

She met his gaze head-on. "No, Bucky. I'm not."

Bucky nodded in understanding, sensing the unspoken annoyance in her words. Natasha had always been guarded about matters of the heart, and they respected her boundaries. They returned to their instruments, each lost in their thoughts, letting the music speak the words that couldn't be said.

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

The leotard store was an arrangement of colors, and Isabella, your spirited nine-year-old daughter, was bouncing between the racks, playing her own game of hide-and-seek with the endless collection of spandex. Her enthusiasm for picking out leotards rivaled her passion for gymnastics.

"Mama, check this one out! It's super sparkly!" Isabella shouted, triumphantly holding up a leotard adorned with sequins like a little treasure hunter.

You and Monica shared a knowing smile as you surveyed the options. "Great choice, Bella," you replied, trying to match her enthusiasm. "Let's add it to the pile."

Isabella nodded, seemingly satisfied, and skipped off in pursuit of her next leotard conquest.

As Monica and you continued your search, your mind drifted back to a conversation you’d had at Harley's party just a couple of weeks ago. There was a woman there, a stranger to you, who had engaged you in a conversation that had held your attention for longer than you’d expected.

"Hey, y/n" Monica began, her tone a mix of curiosity and amusement. She sifted through the clothes, trying to understand what she was looking for. Isabella had a very specific taste.  "Are you going to finally tell me about the woman from the party? You two seemed to be hitting it off."

You glanced at Monica, feeling somewhat caught off guard. "Oh, that? It was just a casual conversation. I doubt it's anything worth dwelling on."

Monica raised an eyebrow, clearly not satisfied with your dismissal. "Just a casual conversation? You looked pretty into her. What's her name?"

You sighed, knowing Monica wouldn't let it go quickly. "Her name is Natasha Romanoff. She’s the lead singer of that band. Velvet Rebellion. We talked for a while. But honestly, I haven't reached out to her or anything." You shrugged. 

Monica persisted, undeterred. "She’s cute. I’ve heard a couple of their songs in passing. Why haven’t you called her?"

You shifted uncomfortably, your fingers unconsciously fussing with a leotard on the rack. "Life's been hectic lately. I've barely had a moment to breathe, let alone call someone."

Isabella, who had overheard your conversation while meticulously assessing leotards with the discerning eye of a seasoned fashion critic, joined in. "Mom, you should call her."

You couldn't help but smile at Isabella's straightforward logic. "You focus on the leotards. You only need a few for now. You’re growing like a weed."

Monica and Isabella exchanged amused glances, both united in their disbelief. "The kid is right," Monica declared, her eyes dancing with mischief.

Isabella nodded in agreement, adding her hint of authority. "I’m just saying." She held up a pink leotard and you shook your head. The cut wasn’t appropriate in your opinion. She returned the leotard to the rack with a sigh and went to a new one. 

Monica's curiosity was relentless, and she wasn't about to let the topic of the woman from Harley's party go. As you continued looking through the racks with Isabella's energy bounding around you, she probed further.

"Come on, y/n, what's the big deal about calling her?" Monica inquired, a mischievous glint in her eye.

You sighed, trying to choose your words carefully. "Mon, you know their band's reputation. The tabloids haven’t been so easy on them. Especially with them being new. Trust me I’ve checked.” You shook your head. “And besides, Natasha used to date Carol Danvers. We’re not friends, but we’re not exactly enemies either. I’m not in the business of going behind her back. It was a bad breakup if it’s anything like the tabloids say and I don't want to risk the same fate."

Monica raised an eyebrow, her expression one of bemused disbelief. “You're not even dating this Natasha person yet. It could be a fun fling or something. You don't have to jump into a full-blown relationship. Also, you hate Carol Danvers."

“I don’t hate her,” You refuted her claims. “I simply enjoy spending my time in spaces that don’t have her in them.” You couldn't deny Monica's point, but the cautious side of you still hesitated. "Also, I know it doesn’t have to be more than what it is. But I've been down that road before, and it wasn't pretty. Besides, I don't want to have this conversation in front of Isabella."

You leaned down to pass a few leotards to Isabella and whispered to her, "Sweetie, can you go find some shoes that match these leotards? That would be a big help."

Isabella nodded enthusiastically, her focus shifting from the leotards to her newfound mission. As she scampered off in search of the perfect shoes, you turned your attention back to Monica.

Monica gave you an understanding look, her voice lowered. "Alright, I get it, y/n,  But don't let the past hold you back from something potentially great. You deserve happiness, too. Even if that means you fuck a few times and that’s it."

“Monica,” Your eyes widened, clearly scandalized by her bluntness. 

“Am I lying?” Monica held up a hand. “When’s the last time you had some? You don’t know do you?”

“I do know. It hasn’t been that long.” You considered her words. You thought back to the very brief casual sex thing you had with a woman around last year. Or was it two years ago? “You’re right I don’t know.” 

“See,” Monica leaned against a rack. “Ask her out to the party tonight. It’s a group thing. I get to vet her. You get to see her. We all win.”

“Fine, fine,” You shake your head. 

“Call her now,” Monica nodded. 

“Um, she’s probably busy.” You furrowed your brow. Another excuse from you. 

“She’ll answer,” Monica said assuredly. “Do it or I’ll dm her myself.”

“Don’t you dare,” You held up a warning finger to Monica. Sometimes your best friend’s forwardness wasn’t welcome. Even if she meant well. She raised a brow at you before pointedly looking toward your purse. “Fine.” You grumbled as you took out your phone. 

You walked to a quieter corner of the store, away from the bustle and the excited chatter of Isabella and Monica, who were now hunting for beam shoes. You scrolled through your contacts until you found Natasha's name. With a deep breath, you pressed the call button.

On the first ring, Natasha's voice came through, calm and confident. "Hello?"

You couldn't help but smile, though your attempt to sound equally composed might have come off as forced. "Hey, Natasha. How's everything going?"

“Oh, it’s you,” Natasha's tone change was evident. "Everything's good. I've been wondering when you'd call."

You felt a rush of relief hearing that she'd been waiting for your call. "I'm sorry it took me a while. Life's been crazy lately, and, well, you know how it is."

Natasha's tone shifted slightly, her voice carrying a hint of playfulness. "I do know. But you don't need to be nervous. It's just a call."

You chuckled softly, feeling a bit more at ease. "You're right. I've just been out of practice with this whole...courting thing."

“Courting? Is that what we’re doing?” Natasha's voice lowered, the flirtatious edge unmistakable. "Well, maybe we can help you get back into practice."

You couldn't help but blush, even though she couldn't see it over the phone. "That sounds like a plan."

Just then, you heard Isabella's excited voice in the background, likely showing off a pair of beam shoes she'd found. Natasha must have heard it too.

"Sounds like you've got company," Natasha noted. 

Just as you were about to respond to Natasha, Isabella's excited voice carried through the phone in the background. "Mama, look at these beam shoes! They're so cool!"

You grinned and chuckled softly. "That's my daughter, Isabella."

Natasha's voice held a hint of warmth. "She sounds like a lively girl."

“She is,” You nodded. You give Isabella a thumbs-up and a smile. "Listen, Natasha," you began, "there's something I wanted to mention. There's a party tonight at this great club called Heatwave. Have you heard of it?”

“Yes, I’ve been there once or twice,” Natasha replied.

“Well, I don't usually go out much, but I'll be there. It would be great if you could join."

There was a brief pause on the other end, and then Natasha's voice returned, filled with a sense of anticipation. "Heatwave, huh? I'll stop by."

Your heart skipped a beat at her response. It seemed that, despite your initial hesitation, the possibility of something exciting and new was on the horizon, and you couldn't help but look forward to seeing Natasha at the party tonight.

“What time should I be there?” Natasha questioned. 

“I like to put Bella to bed before going out,” You informed her. “My mother will be watching her, so I’d say around nine. Does that work for you?”

“That works for me,” Natasha agreed. 

“Okay then, Natasha,” You smiled, wondering if she could hear it in your voice. “I’ll see you then.”

“Great, see you then.” Natasha mirrored your excitement. You hung up the phone and tucked it into your back pocket. You walked back over to Monica, trying to hide your excitement, but she noticed immediately. 

She gave you a silent questioning look and you give her a thumbs up in return. This should be fun. 

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

Back inside the recording studio, the band was wrapping up what turned out to be a successful recording session. They’d written one song so far and revised a few Natasha had in her back pocket for times like this. Which was the most progress they’d gotten in a year. Either way, it was a session that left them fulfilled. Natasha stood in front of the microphone, her voice still echoing in the room. She exchanged satisfied smiles with her bandmates before returning her wired headphones to their stand. 

As they wrapped up their belongings Steve spoke up, "Alright, Natasha, we nailed it today. What's the plan for tonight?"

Natasha leaned back against the soundboard, a wry smile playing on her lips. "Oh, you know me, Steve. I'm a creature of habit."

Steve chuckled, "Yeah, we all are, aren't we? It's one big codependent family."

Natasha nodded, her red hair cascading around her shoulders. "True, but you guys like it that way."

Steve smirked, "And you do too."

Natasha sighed playfully, "Alright, you caught me. I have a thing."

The moment she mentioned 'a thing,' the rest of the group became intrigued. Tony, Bucky, and Wanda started bombarding her with questions, eager to know more. They were known for their tight-knit bond, often spending their evenings together.

Tony asked, grinning, "What kind of thing? Spill the beans, Red!"

Natasha tried to deny it, but under the pressure of their excited curiosity, she finally admitted, "Okay, okay! I'm going to Heatwave, a club downtown. I'm meeting up with a new friend."

Immediately, it was settled - if Natasha was going out, they were all going out. Tony's eyes gleamed with mischief, "Sounds like a party! Can we come too?"

Natasha hesitated for a moment, thinking about the guys' tendency to get a little rowdy. Then she relented, "Alright, fine. We can all go."

Steve high-fived Tony, and Bucky and Wanda exchanged excited glances. "This is gonna be awesome!" Steve exclaimed. Though he wasn’t much of a partier he loved exploring new places. 

Natasha couldn't help but grin at their enthusiasm, "Yeah, let's hope it's good, then."

With the decision made, the band members packed up their instruments, ready for another night on the town. 

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

As you stood before the bathroom mirror in your finest party outfit, face and hair all done up, the room around you painted a stark contrast. The soft notes of Beyonce’s “Yes” played in the background as you prepared for your night out. The bathroom was a chaotic scene, messy and disheveled, with makeup and hair curlers scattered haphazardly. Clothes lay strewn on the floor and over the edge of the bathtub. The countertop was cluttered with various cosmetic products, their caps discarded carelessly.

A hairbrush, half-buried under a pile of clothes, seemed to have given up on its role in maintaining order. The floor bore the evidence of spilled powders and makeup brushes discarded in haste.

Isabella, standing in the doorway, disapproved of this sight. Her usually tidy nature couldn't help but frown at the disarray. With her wide, disapproving eyes, she silently conveyed her thoughts to you. “Why must it be so messy in here?”

“Must? I knew I was creating a bougie child,” You laughed to yourself, applying the final remnants of your makeup.

“I’m not bougie. I just go to a good school,” Isabella quipped. She stood with her arms folded her expression showing her unhappiness with the looks of your room. 

"I know I pay the high tuition bill remember?" You mutter. Sierra Canyon was a school worth every bit of the $35,000 tuition. Even if it did hurt you to sign that check every year. “Well, I’ll pay you twenty dollars to clean it up,” You offer.

“Forty and we have a deal,” She counters. 

“Forty?” You asked incredulously. 

“Inflation, Mama,” Isabella explains as if it’s obvious. “My favorite toys aren’t cheap anymore.”

“I see,” You mumble. “You drive a hard bargain, but you have a deal.” You turn back to the mirror. 

You did a spin to get Isabella’s final say. You wore a black backless draped split dress that reached mid-thigh, perfectly complemented by your sleek, hair slicked into a bun with two small bangs framing your face. The finishing touches of makeup were precise, accentuating your features with a subtle, smoky eye and a deep red lip. 

“You look really good,” Isabella nodded. 

“Not too trampy?” You asked and she shook her head. 

“Not,” Isabella said. 

“You know that was kind of a test and you failed?” You sighed. “Your dad lets you watch reality TV at his place again?”

“Maybe,” Isabella pretended to zip her lips and throw away the key. She was not one to tell. 

You couldn't help but smile. You bent down to Isabella's level and planted a series of gentle kisses all over her cheeks, as she mostly wiped them off with a giggle. 

“Oh, Isabella Marie, my little artist," You chuckled, feigning scandalization. "You've ruined my masterpiece!"

Isabella just laughed, her eyes sparkling with admiration for you. She reached up to touch the necklace you were wearing, a subtle gesture of appreciation.

You took Isabella's hand and said, "Come on, it's time for bed."

“I really should try to convince you to let me stay up later,” Isabella commented as she allowed you to drag her out to the living room. 

You made your way to her bedroom, where you tucked her in with great care.

“Did you brush your teeth?” You asked as you rearranged her pillows. 

“Yep,” Isabella nodded. “And I washed my face.”

“Good girl,” You praised her. 

As you smoothed the covers over Isabella and adjusted her stuffed animals, Isabella reminded you with a bright smile, "Mama, remember, I have Lenny’s skating birthday party tomorrow. You said we'd go together."

You leaned in and kissed Isabella's forehead, making sure to wipe her face free of your makeup, as your heart warmed by your daughter's excitement. "Of course. We’ll be there. Now sleep, I love you.”

“Read me a story?” She begged in anticipation of your answer. 

“One story,” You warned her before walking over to her bookshelf. You grabbed Hair Love by Matthew Cherry, one of her favorites these days. You sat beside her, offering her your best voice as you began to read to her. Isabella leaned into your body. When you were done, her eyes drooped with drowsiness as she whispered a contented, "Goodnight, Mama.”

“Goodnight, my precious girl. Sweet dreams." You turned off the bedside lamp, leaving the room in a warm, cozy darkness. With one final kiss, you left Isabella to her dreams. 

With your preparations complete, you rushed out of Isabella’s bedroom and headed for the kitchen. Time was of the essence. In your hurry, you grabbed your purse and a bottle of water from the fridge. With a sigh of relief, you twisted open the cap and took a long, refreshing sip.

As you did, your mother entered the kitchen, her gaze appraising your outfit with a discerning eye.

"You're going out looking like that?" Her mother's tone was a mix of concern and disapproval.

“What don’t you like my outfit?” You turned to face her with a determined look. Your mother sighed but said nothing. "Yes, Mom. I've already put Isabella to bed, and I'll be back by two at the latest."

Your mother's expression softened, but she couldn't hide her worry. "Y/n, you know I worry when you go out so late."

You smiled reassuringly. "I know, Mom, but I never go out anymore. It’s all mom's life and work. I just want to have some fun with friends tonight. I promise to be careful."

“That only makes me feel slightly better,” She shook her head. 

"I'll leave my phone on in case of an emergency, okay?" You promised her. 

Your mother nodded; her eyes filled with maternal concern. "Alright, but you better answer if I call."

You laughed softly and hugged your mother. "I promise. You can count on me."

With a final smile and a quick kiss on her cheek, you left the kitchen, hoping to catch your Uber before it was too late. 

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

As Natasha and the rest of Velvet Rebellion arrived at Heatwave, the vibrant thump of bass and the lively chatter of the crowd spilled into the street. The atmosphere was electric, and it was clear that the club lived up to its reputation. There was a line wrapped around the entrance, everyone attempting to get to the same point. 

Natasha was sure they would be able to get in unscathed. However, as they approached the entrance, it became evident that someone had tipped off the paparazzi about their plans. As soon as they exited the car, flashbulbs began to pop, and reporters shouted questions. Natasha and Wanda, not yet accustomed to such situations, swiftly made their way inside, their confidence unshaken.

The boys followed closely behind, with security personnel discreetly positioned around them. However, the security was mostly unnecessary. Velvet Rebellion wasn't a superstar band, and they had no intention of acting like one. They were here to enjoy the music and the vibes, just like any other patrons.

Once inside, the pulsating rhythm of the club enveloped them. Heatwave was a mix of hip-hop, reggae, rock, and everything in between. The diverse crowd danced and mingled, creating an intoxicating blend of cultures and energies. The dimly lit club was a sanctuary for adults, a place where the music was loud, and the energy was contagious.

Natasha and her bandmates moved deeper into the club, losing themselves in the music and the seamless fusion of genres. The vibes were indeed immaculate, and they were ready to savor every moment of the night, leaving their fame behind for a while and simply being themselves - music lovers enjoying a night out.

Wanda, swept up in the excitement of the club's atmosphere, leaned in closer to Natasha and shouted over the thumping bass, "Hey, Nat I'll find us a booth! Tony's going to grab drinks for everyone!"

Natasha nodded and gave her a thumbs-up before deciding to excuse herself to the bathroom. The path to the restroom was a maze of dancing bodies and neon lights. A few girls recognized her and attempted to approach her for autographs or selfies, but Natasha simply smiled and waved, preferring to do things in peace. She could feel the presence of her security guard, Mike, behind her as she stepped into the bathroom. He waited outside of course. 

After freshening up in the bathroom, Natasha emerged and found herself back in the crowded club. As she navigated the sea of people, she accidentally bumped into someone. Before she could react, her security personnel stepped forward, ready to intervene. However, Natasha recognized the person she had bumped into and quickly raised a hand to stop her security detail.

“Mike, it’s okay,” Natasha nodded to him. 

It was you.  A hint of amusement danced in your eyes as you noted the security presence. You couldn't help but think of the time when you, too, needed security. Back when your father was at the height of his career. Now not so much. 

Despite the loud music, you managed to engage in a conversation, leaning close to hear each other over the thumping bass.

Natasha, with a playful smile, observed you, her eyes raking over your bad in a way that sent chills up your spine. "You look stunning tonight. That dress suits you."

"Why, thank you, Natasha. You look great too.” You lightly touched her arm. “I’m glad you could make it.”

“Me too.” Natasha shouted over the music. "Life's been busy."

You nodded in understanding, "Tell me about it. It's been a whirlwind."

Natasha's eyes sparkled with curiosity. "What's new with you? How have you been?"

You leaned in closer, your lips almost brushing against Natasha's ear as you shouted above the music. "Lots of work, but tonight, I'm here to let loose. What about you? Any new songs in the works?"

Natasha nodded with a grin. "Always working on something.”

“That’s good then,” You smile back. You blink at her through your thick lashes before your eyes scan the room. “I see you brought your friends.”

“I have,” Natasha stepped a bit closer, though it was subtle, and you didn’t notice. You liked feeling the warmth radiating from her. “They wouldn’t let me come alone.”

“Gotta love them,” You joked. “Care to dance?” You ask. 

“Lead the way,” Natasha takes your hand as you drag her onto the dance floor. She pretends she’s not checking out your ass but when you look back you nearly catch her. Funny. 

Just as you and Natasha hit the dance floor, the DJ transitioned into a surprising mix of "What Is Love" by Haddaway and "In Da Club" by 50 Cent. The blend of the '90s dance classic and the early 2000s hip-hop anthem was unexpectedly catchy, and the crowd roared in approval.

Natasha was a fantastic dancer, her movements fluid and precise. You were equally impressive, managing to keep up with Natasha's rhythm effortlessly. Your bodies moved in perfect sync as you joined the sea of people on the dance floor.

The atmosphere was lively, energetic, and incredibly fun. Laughter and cheers filled the air as the club-goers embraced the unexpected combination of music with enthusiasm. The dance floor seemed to vibrate with the collective joy of everyone present.

You couldn't help but enjoy having Natasha so close. Her skin against your fingertips felt like heaven. The way her hands rested gently against your back. It was intimate, warm, and sensual despite the tempo of the music. 

As the music continued to pulse through the club and once you were all danced out, bodies slick with sweat, you led Natasha to a booth where her bandmates were already seated. Their faces lit up with excitement as they spotted Natasha. It’s then you noticed Monica was already sitting amongst the rockstars somehow having made it past security. 

“There you are,” Monica smiled sweetly. “You two were on fire out there. I was just making friends with our new family.” She said despite the quizzical looks. You reciprocated her hug as you whispered low into her ear. 

“I hate you so much,” You growled. 

“I love you too,” Monica laughed. 

"Natasha, this is Monica," you said, introducing your best friend to the redhead. 

Monica extended a friendly hand and smiled, though there was a hint of suspicion in her eyes. "Nice to meet you, Natasha."

Natasha returned the smile warmly, "Likewise, Monica."

As everyone settled into the booth, the conversation flowed effortlessly. Monica was cautious but kind, warming up to Natasha as they chatted about various topics. The club atmosphere had a way of breaking down barriers, and it wasn't long before they were all laughing and enjoying each other's company.

Somewhere along the way, the group decided to order a mix of different foods and drinks, sharing bites and sips as the night wore on. On the booth, Natasha sat next to you, the two of you sharing a closeness that was hard to ignore. During the lively conversations and the infectious rhythm of the music, Natasha couldn't shake the feeling that someone in the crowd had their phone out, possibly recording you. The thought bothered her, but you kept her engaged and distracted, your charm and energy captivating.

There was a break in the peace Natasha felt as her sharp eyes caught sight of her ex-girlfriend, Carol Danvers, making her way towards the booth. Natasha knew that this could potentially lead to a problem, so she decided to intercept Carol before things escalated. 

“Excuse me for a moment,” Natasha sighed. She was not expecting this to happen tonight of all nights. You watch the two of them walk away before turning your attention back to the group. It was none of your business. "Carol, hi, let me talk to you.” Natasha wanted to take action before the mess. The last thing she needed was a problem when there was none. 

She gently guided Carol to a more private corner where the music was lower, allowing them to have a conversation without distractions. As they stood facing each other, Natasha's demeanor was polite but distant. She wasn't fond of talking to Carol but wanted to ensure she was okay.

“I see you’re having fun,” Carol rubbed her sweaty hands against her jeans. Her eyes looked a little bloodshot, the deep bags being covered by concealer and heavy makeup. In all honesty, Natasha could tell Carol was not in her correct frame of mind. Whether that was due to lack of sleep or something else wasn’t her responsibility.  Carol's voice quivered with emotion as she spoke, "You look good."

“Thank you,” Natasha sighed and shook her head, her expression a mix of sadness and resolution. "Carol, it's not worth it. We've been through this."

“I know,” Carol nodded. “I just wanted to say hello.” 

Natasha found Carol’s meek demeanor unsettling. It was so unlike her. Again, not her problem. 

“Look, it was good to see you,” Natasha peaked back at the booth to see you were laughing with Monica about something. “Take care of yourself.” Natasha rubs a hand over Carol’s arm before walking away. She was not in the mood to be dealing with this right now. When she sits down again, it takes a moment for her to reacclimate with the group, her feelings of dread and the aftermath of the breakup all taking over again. 

You noticed the change in her demeanor and decided to check in on her.

With genuine concern in your eyes, you asked softly, "Natasha, is everything okay?"

Natasha tried to feign a smile, "Yeah, I'm fine. Just... old memories, you know?"

You nodded, understanding that sometimes the past had a way of sneaking up on you. You decided to lift the mood by embracing the party spirit. As fans approached you for pictures, only allowed with the say-so of security, you graciously obliged, even though you weren’t used to so much attention. Having a famous family meant everyone assumed you were someone to know too.  The smiles on their faces and their gratitude brought a spark of joy to the night.

However, Natasha's mood didn't seem to improve. You could see the lingering discomfort on her face and sensed that Natasha might need a change of scenery. You leaned in closer to Natasha and asked, "You sure you're okay, Natasha? If you want, we can get out of here."

Natasha appreciated your concern and gave you a small, genuine smile. "Isn’t this your friend’s party?”

“Alicia? She’ll understand,” You grinned. “I’m a mom.” You shrug. 

“How many times have you used that excuse?” Natasha questioned. 

“Once or twice,” You laughed. 

“I think that might be a good idea then." Natasha leaned over to whisper to Wanda that she was leaving. Wanda narrowed her eyes between the two of you but ultimately said nothing. 

“Monica, I’m leaving with Natasha,” You informed your best friend. “I love you.” “Love you too,” Monica smiled briefly. “Call me tomorrow and tell me everything.” She said a bit lower. 

“I will,” You roll your eyes. 

As you made your way towards the exit, Natasha felt grateful for your understanding and support. As you neared the club's exit, you leaned in closer to Natasha and suggested, "Let's use the back exit. It's a quicker way out, and we can avoid the paparazzi."

Natasha nodded in agreement, appreciating your thoughtfulness. She followed you towards the inconspicuous back exit, with Mike, Natasha's security guard, close behind. The corridor was dimly lit, and the sounds of the club faded away with each step.

Walking side by side, you and Natasha found a comfortable silence between you. Natasha appreciated the quiet respite after the club's raucousness. 

Then, without hesitation, you reached out and gently took Natasha's hand. It was a bold move, and Natasha's heart skipped a beat. The connection felt warm and reassuring, 

Natasha looked at you, her eyes softening with gratitude. Your fingers entwined, as you continued down the dimly lit sidewalk together, taking comfort in the simple act of holding hands, a gesture of comfort and support.

“Downtown Los Angeles is not exactly the safest place to hang out at night,” You point out. 

“Did you have anywhere in mind?” Natasha questions. “I’m not really ready to go home yet.’

“How about here?” You point to the restaurant just across the street. It was settled. 

You and Natasha walked into the small Japanese food restaurant and were greeted by a soothing ambiance of sleek and modern dining. The interior featured clean lines, polished wooden tables, and elegant, dimmed lighting that created a cozy yet sophisticated atmosphere. The walls were adorned with tasteful Japanese-inspired artwork, adding to the restaurant's aesthetic appeal.

Despite the late hour, they were still open, and there weren't many people left in the restaurant. The subdued chatter of a few diners in hushed conversations added to the tranquil atmosphere.

The restaurant staff welcomed you and Natasha with warm smiles, happy to accommodate your late-night visit. You were ushered to a well-appointed table with comfortable seating, creating a sense of intimacy in the otherwise empty space.

Once seated, you took the lead in order, your familiarity with the menu evident. You chose the baked crab hand rolls, a delectable choice known for its rich flavors and delicate textures, and edamame with a sprinkle of salt for a simple and satisfying appetizer.

Natasha decided to indulge in a sushi sampler, intrigued by the restaurant's offerings. She also ordered drinks for you to share, wanting to continue the evening in a relaxed and enjoyable manner, free from the distractions of the outside world.

As you waited for the food to arrive, you turned your attention to Natasha, your expression carrying a hint of concern.

"Natasha, "You began hesitantly, "Can you tell me more about Carol? Should I be worried about her showing up like that?"

Natasha sighed, recognizing the need for honesty. She leaned in, speaking softly, "Carol is my ex-girlfriend. We used to be really close, and she was a good person, but lately, she's been caught up in the wrong crowd. I've been trying to keep my distance from all of that."

Caught up in the wrong crowd could mean a host of things in the industry. Drugs were usually the most common. Though you didn't press for her to elaborate.

You listened attentively, her concern deepening. "Do you think she's going to be a problem?"

Natasha could see your question for what it was. Was she going to be a problem in whatever potential the two of you could have? 

Natasha shook her head, her gaze reassuring. "No, nothing like that. She's just... lost, for now. I don't want you to worry about it. I'm doing my best to stay out of any trouble, especially now."

You nodded, appreciating Natasha's honesty and the effort she was making to ensure your time together was free from complications. You reached out and gently squeezed Natasha's hand, silently conveying your support. 

You leaned in closer and admitted, "I understand, Natasha. My ex and I co-parent Isabella, and it wasn't always easy either. But we've found our way." You shrugged. 

Natasha appreciated the understanding and felt a connection with you as you shared your experiences. 

Then, the conversation took a different turn, and Natasha's curiosity got the better of her. She leaned in with a playful glint in her eyes and said, "Alright, enough about my drama. I want to know more about you. You downplayed your singing career at the party. Backup?”

“You’ve done your research,” You chuckled at the playful teasing but then became more serious as you responded, "You're right. Singing has always been my love, my passion. But the demanding career and the lack of privacy that comes with it gets to you after a while. That's why I love being a publicist. It allows me to stay in the industry that I adore but from a different angle, more behind the scenes. It gives me room to breathe and a sense of control over my life."

Natasha nodded in understanding, appreciating your candor. She could see the sincerity in your eyes as you spoke about your career and the choices you had made. It was clear that you had found a balance that worked for you, and Natasha respected you for it.

When the food arrived, you immediately dug into your meal. Your curiosity got the better of you, and you asked Natasha, "Do you and your band have a publicist or a manager?"

Natasha smirked playfully, a hint of amusement dancing in her eyes. "Is it that obvious? I guess it's the many times Tony's been arrested.” Natasha began to list. “Or the time I punched paparazzi for trying to take a picture at an awkward angle.” She grimaced. 

You couldn't help but laugh at Natasha's observation. "Well, those incidents might have given it away a bit."

Natasha's smile faded slightly as she confessed, "Honestly, I know we need someone to manage us, but I've never felt entirely comfortable with the idea. It's like giving up a piece of our freedom and creativity. We've managed so far, but I know it can't go on like this forever."

You nodded in understanding, recognizing the challenges that came with managing a successful music career independently. You asked, "Do you have anyone in mind for the role, someone you might trust enough to bring into the fold?"

Natasha thought for a moment, her gaze thoughtful. "Possibly. It's a big decision, and I want to make sure it's the right fit for us, you know? We've been doing this our way for so long that it's hard to let go."

“Well, when you’re ready, I’m your gal,” You offered your services. “I also may have a few wild cards that would work perfectly.” 

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Natasha sips from her cup. 

As the night drew to a close, you found yourselves waiting on a quiet street corner for your Uber to arrive. The bustling energy of the club was a distant memory, replaced by the calm of the late-night city.

Natasha looked at you with a genuine smile and said, "I had a lot of fun tonight, y/n. Thank you."

You returned the smile, your heart warmed by Natasha's words. "I did too, Natasha. It was great getting to know you."

The streets were mostly empty, and the city was bathed in the soft glow of streetlights. There was a moment of silence as you stood together, the unspoken tension of the night hanging in the air.

Then, as if guided by an invisible force, Natasha leaned in and softly pressed her lips against yours. It was a gentle, lingering kiss that sent shivers down your spine. Your cheeks flushed, but you couldn't help but smile.

Breaking the kiss, you teased, "Well, that's a surprise ending for the night."

Natasha chuckled and replied, "I couldn't resist."

“Don’t worry, I liked it,” You grinned. You leaned forward, kissing Natasha again, lingering when your lips pressed before you pulled back. 

The distant sound of the approaching Uber pulled you back to reality. Your ride had arrived. You exchanged one last lingering look, a silent acknowledgment of the connection you had shared that evening.

With a soft goodbye, you climbed into the waiting car, and Natasha watched as it drove away into the night. As she walked away, Natasha couldn't help but smile, feeling grateful for the unexpected and unforgettable night she had just experienced.

---> next part

[harufluff]

my seahorse ଘ(੭ˊᵕˋ)੭* ੈ✩‧₊

💬 : fluff, unestablished relationship au, afab!reader x bff!anton, ⚠ best friends to lovers trope, not proofread, 0.7k

“could you come over…” your voice was shaky through the phone speaker. anton had known you were at home because you had texted him hours before complaining about your neighbors.

“a-are you ok? did something happen?” his heart started beating faster. despite just being a friend, a best friend as you would put it, anton always worried about you.

weather you are up to no good, or just getting good news. he was here to support you no matter what. maybe a little too much for just a friend.

“i’m fine. just please be fast.” and just like that you had hung up, leaving anton scared and surprised with the various possibilities bouncing around his head.

anton made his way to your house as fast as he could. when he finally got to the front door of the house he had been to so many times before, he knocked. his heart finally began to calm as he heard the soft footsteps of your feet coming down the stairs.

the door opened to your face. no makeup, inches shorter than where his face is, and a blanket wrapped around your head. “what’s wrong?”

anton’s soft, calming voice makes it to your ears. before he can even blink again, the door swings open and reveals your blanket covered figure coming towards him for a hug.

“y/n, seriously what’s wrong? are you hurt?” your best friends hands now coming up to take your hands in his, inspecting for any injuries.

“come look.” you use his hands current position to your advantage and take one of them, dragging him up the stairs to your bedroom, a room he has been to more times than he can count.

you sit down on your bed, blanket still covering your lap, while anton stands in the doorway, still astounded, but mostly confused of your intentions.

“come sit. i wanna show you something.” he came to sit down on the bed next to you, anxious of what was to come.

anton’s nerves continued to be more prominent. “are you sure you’re ok?” he asks one more time before you dragged your laptop to your legs.

your curser traveled to the corner of the youtube screen to press the play button, then a pair of sea horses swim into the view of the camera.

a deep, manly voice comes out of your computer explaining how sea horses mate for life and stay together forever. your head turns in your best friends direction, tears on the brim of falling down your face.

“w-wait, what’s wrong? why are you crying” anton asks you, words coming quickly out of his mouth. “they mate forever, ant. imagine staying with someone you love for the rest of your life!!”

a slight smile rises to his face, finally realizing your sudden sadness was not necessarily sadness. “you still haven’t answered my question. why are you crying over some sea horses, y/n.”

anton held your face with one of his hands and whipped the stray tear now running down your face. “it’s just so romantic, y’know?”

you let the weight of your body tumble down as your back hit the soft covers of your bed. “i wanna find someone like that one day.” your eyes rest in the same place of your ceiling.

anton thinks about what to answer with for what feels like a couple seconds too long. “i have already.” you sit up straight right away, eyes wide open and staring into your best friends.

“who….?”

his cute smile made its way up to his lips as his face began to grow pink. “it’s you. you’re my seahorse…” anton tried his best to keep the eye contact with your still wide eyes.

“if you don’t feel the same way just tell me and i’ll forget i ever said it.” his gaze then dropped down to his hands that were resting in his lap.

“anton…you’re my seahorse too…” all of a sudden you felt anton’s body weight on top of yours and the room was filled with giggles from the both of you.

his face pops up from the crook of your shoulder, a lasting smile still on his face along with yours. “my seahorse”

a.n - sorry i havent posted in like so long lol. please enjoy! <3

©️harufluff 2024

[bitchimasnake-sss]

it got worse ft. choso kamo!

this is part two to my fic "just a distraction". so, i recommend that you read that first lol (but it can be read as a standalone too!)

set-up: after your plan to distract your academic rival backfired so hard, you don't have it in you to seek him out. well, is it a blessing or a curse when he decides he will seek you out instead then?

warnings: PORN WITH PLOT; nsfw thoughts includes cunnilingus, in public, dirty talking. mdni as always :)

"are you serious?" yuuta gave you a skeptical look.

"what?" you defended by hiding your face under a pillow and avoiding your friends' concerned looks.

"i'm sorry but it's the third day you're missing lecture. over a boy. who even are you?" maki continued where yuuta left off.

"she's lovesick, is what she is. or dicksic—" nobara quipped up next.

you threw the pillow at the source of her voice. then, slowly, you looked up at your three friends, who stood there as if observing an animal in the zoo. except this wasn't a zoo, it was your dorm room. and the animal under surveillance was you.

"this was all your plan!" you pointed at nobara accusingly.

"my plan was to go fuck choso's brain out so that you can get an edge over him in academics. my plan wasn't for you to develop a crush on his weird ass."

"i don't have a crush on him!" you tried to cool off your burning face by fanning it, "i just can't see him again. what am i gonna say?? hey choso remember the day i came over during break like a month ago and you went down on me? i can't fucking stop thinking about that or about you! what are your thoughts on that, choso hm?"

"well, when you phrase it so pathetically-"

yuuta cut off the green-haired athlete lest she say something downright stupid, "see, i am sure choso won't bring it up either. he hasn't made an effort to like text you or anything. it's been a whole month, i am sure he doesn't really care all that much?"

"ughh. how is that consoling to hear? that means whatever happened between us probably sucked."

"well you did suck—"

"—nobara!"

"point being." yuuta reasoned, "you need to go to class. gojo sensei is a serious drama queen. he'd probably mark your grade down because you're missing classes for seemingly no reason. and that'll affect your grades.

you groaned and yuuta continued, "just go to class. and if you see choso, avoid him. i am sure he won't come seeking you out."

"fine."

˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

well, this was going okay, you guess? i mean, gojo sensei did 100% make weird jokes about your absence in front of the entire class but thus far, nothing else was amiss. choso was holed up in his regular seat near the window far to your left and hadn't been looking at you from what you could notice.

fuck. truly the only one getting distracted was you.

so, halfway through the lecture (that you couldn't pay attention to anyways), you decided you would confront choso and ask him why he didn't text you back or something.

so, you waited till class was over. standing outside the gate, you waited for the raven-haired man to come out so that you could confront him. but the moment he actually started coming towards the door, your feet took you by their own accord. you ran through the hallways and into the library.

that's right, maybe you should catch up on the studying you missed? self-study truly is the best study after all? and not like choso will come hunting you down here, in the library. so, you chose to go take a seat in your usual spot, the one farthest and where nobody came to disturb you.

sighing, you took our your laptop and notebook, setting it down on the table. you took a deep breath and decided you could deal with him when you were ready-

"why did you bolt off when you saw me?" choso asked as he dragged the chair next to you and sat down. he dropped something heavy on the desk and you noticed from the corner of your eye that it was the book you had taken over to his under the pretense of studying.

"thanks for the book. i forgot i left it at yours."

liar.

you had left it at his so you could go back and get it. and the day you went back, hopefully, choso would have remembered some of the steam and gotten you into his bed again.

but you never went and he never called.

"no worries. i was surprised how you would be able to do integrals without it." he stretched his limbs, muscles shifting under the thin material of his shirt. he then propped his right elbow on the wooden table. resting his face on his palm, he looked at you, "why were you missing lectures?"

"personal issues." you replied without looking away from your laptop screen. as if typing your assignment furiously will make him disappear into thin air.

"ah, okay. i thought you got sick or something."

if you were braver, you would have said it out loud. but you were a coward, so, you mumbled, "if you were so worried, you could have texted me or something."

you obviously didn't expect for him to hear that.

"we're not friends. it would have been awkward. what would have people thought if they realized i'm texting the second best student at uni?"

you whipped your face to look at his. but all your anger melted away when you took in his features. his tired eyes, the tattoo on his nose. did he cut his hair? it was slightly shorter, you think? whatever, he was still a dick.

-and dick reminds you...

"i-" you looked at your screen again, hands stilling against the keyboard and resting on the plastic keycaps, "even if we aren't friends. why didn't you text me? was- idk. like, was our last time so bad? even if it was, it's not a gentle-manly thing to do! to ghost a fucking girl out of nowhere!"

"i thought it was a one time thing." he replied back easily, still looking at your bunched features, "i thought you had some built up frustration after seeing the result and you had come take your mind off of it."

"so, what are you saying? was it just 'nother quick fuck session with your classmate? you shoved your pen in his direction, a direct attack by invading his private space. your face scrunched up in disgust, "you do this frequently? am i just the newest addition to the roster?"

as your gaze tangled with his, the sheer intensity in his eyes sent a shiver through your system. he quirked an eyebrow up, his lips pressed into a thin line. the pen slipped past your light grasp and under the desk.

"do you know you're ruining my life?" his eyes searched for yours then travelled down to your lips, "you're actually ruining my fucking life."

and he knelt down.

"choso wh-" your eyes widened as his arm reached under the desk, looking for your pens as his gaze remained trained on you.

adjusting his position, he moved till he was under the desk, hidden by the chair and your legs in front of him. once he found the pen, his sleek fingers pulled his hair back. he carefully tied his flowing hair with your pen.

looking up at you, his igniting touches dragged upwards from your knee to the hem of your skirt.

"wh- what are you doing?" you bit down your lip are his fingers travelled inwards, caressing your inner thigh agonizingly slow.

his forearms pulled your body towards him till you were barely seated on the edge. looking around maniacally to spot any other person, you looked back down at the sight in front of you.

his hair was pulled back, arms around your thighs and tongue licking a clean strip from your mid-thigh. slowly moving upwards, his hot breath danced over your drenched panties.

pressing a chaste kiss to your thighs. giving you a small (almost innocent) smile, he whispered, "i think i should return the favour. be a gentleman, hm?"

his thumb swiped over the wet fabric. the slick allowed him to rub over the swollen nub while his other hand found his erect dick. he bit back a groan as he palmed himself through the sweats.

"choso, stop mhmm no-" you whined as he pushed the fabric aside and swiped over your clit. the pad of his thumb moved methodically- going up and down, to the sides and in tight circular motion- while his lips pressed innocent kisses all over your thighs.

"cho~ nghh someone is gonna see us, plea-please stop—"

"shut up then. go back to your assignment. let's pretend i'm not even here, yeah?"

"chosoo—" you whined slowly, looking around again to see no one was around. once you were thorough with your inspection, you found yourself meeting his sinful gaze, rutting your hips in sync with his calloused fingers.

"—look up or people are gonna get suspicious." he stilled for a second, letting his words register in your head. when he refused to move his deft fingers against your pulsing heat, you finally took your eyes off him. training your eyes at the screen instead, you ignored his rough treatment on your clit.

kissing your soft skin, his fingers played with your drenched core. you closed your eyes, feeling his heavy weight against you body. he sucked on your skin and then looked up at you to give you a lewd look. something between a smug smile and a feral, animalistic desire.

"that's right, just do your work okay? i'm gonna handle the rest." he whispered against the blossoming bruise, "trust me when i say that it's taking everything inside me to not fuck you right here, right now."

his lips ghosted over your clitoris as his fingers dipped inside of you. the hot breath set your body on fire as his slim digits played against your inner mechanics. finally, he placed a soft kiss o your twitching, swollen nub and you chose to bite down on your lips instead on moaning his name out.

your hips burned against the wood. your forehead was getting damper and damper with each leisurely lick. and every attempt of writing a word of your assignment was just another incoherent jamble, fueled by his fucked up fantasies.

your pelvis rolled with his finger and the ache built up in your stomach as he went faster and faster against you, still whispering sweet nothings as if honey was his own language.

the ache built and built and built and you closed your eyes as your orgasm finally washed over you like waves. you tucked your head under your arms, resting your forehead against the cool, wooden desk as you silently screamed out.

his fingers slowed down their assault on your twitching body and he pressed one last kiss to your quivering thighs before removing his fingers. fixing your underwear and cleaning off the nectar on his fingers, he climbed up again.

you cocked your head sideways to look at him. he flashed you a grin before taking the pen out and handing it back to you, "here you go. you should be careful with your belongings"

you rolled your eyes, "fuck off."

and he gave you another large smile, relishing in your huffs and jitters.

pulling yourself back up, you truly thought he'd walk away now that you had cum over his fingers. i mean what else was left? he had come and ruined your concentration. he had won at your game. so what else now? why wasn't he leaving?

"uhm" you gave him a skeptical look, "aren't you gonna go now?"

he raised an eyebrow, dragging the chair closer next to you, "want me gone so soon?"

you turned around to face him. you could feel the steam physically rise out of your face out of sheer embarrassment. "i mean i thought we were just... like? you know—"

"—fuck buddies or something?"

"i mean yeah?"

"i don't think we can be fuck buddies. or friends with benefits." when your face fell, he gave you an honest smile, "'cause we aren't exactly friends... and we haven't exactly fucked."

a blush crept up your throat at his ease over such depraved words, "right, yeah."

"but." he dragged his chair outwards and stood up, "we can be. friends, i mean." he looked away from you, pausing. "i mean, i'll text you maybe?"

"maybe?"

"maybe." he tucked in the chair inwards to it's actual position. then his fingers drummed along the wooden chair, "i am still not sure if i wanna be friends with my rival, you know?"

"oh, fuck off."

he started walking away, giving you a last smile over his shoulder, "i'll text you."

you bit back a smile of your own, "i'll wait."

a/n: tempted to make a third part (and finish off the story with a sweet, nice bow) but idk if i should lol. part three is up! hope you enjoy!! tagging: @somejojofanlol @little-art-addiction @seaweed-empire @basilgardener @rkiveinmarvel

[featherandferns]

daylight - six

jj maybank x fem!reader | part 6 of the daylight series | read part 5 here

content warnings: sexual content (m receiving)

word count: 2.8k.

blurb: seemingly not put-off from your last encounter, JJ comes by your house and studies your photographs. There's one within the mix that makes something click in JJ's head.

“Mimsy, it was humiliating,” you groan through the camera. 

She cringes. “I mean…yeah, that is pretty rough.”

“Ah!” you cry, tossing your head into your hands. 

“What was up? Were you not turned on?”

“Of course I was!” you argue, offended at the insulation that JJ wasn’t sex walking. “I just got all in my head, and the dark and Tyler and–”

“Woah, woah, woah,” Mimsy interrupts. You brave a glance at her on the facetime call. “You were thinking of Tyler whilst hot-mechanic-man was going down on you?”

“Well, we never got that far,” you mumble. 

Mimsy silences you with a look. “Why were you thinking of Tyler?”

You sigh and shake your head. Once more, your eyes dart down to the shoebox. “I don’t know,” you admit. “I just felt like I was back in that room with him all over again in December. The confusion and the–”

“Are you sure Tyler never assaulted you?” Mimsy checks. Despite her careless questioning, you know it comes from a place of concern. 

“Yes, I’m sure,” you say. “I mean, his emphasis on consent was honestly one of his finer features. One time I nodded and he went ‘no, no, you gotta use your words’.”

“Condescending prickhole,” Mimsy mutters bitterly. 

Eyebrows raised, mildly alarmed, you say, “well, yes, he was, but he was an consent advocate.”

“Gee, someone give him a gold medal. The bar really is on the fucking floor.”

You click your fingers. Mimsy could get lost in her anti-Tyler spiel easily. “Can we stay on task, please? What the hell is wrong with my body!?”

“Alright, one sec,” Mimsy says. You watch as she types away on her laptop, halfway in shot. “Okay, Google, what have you got?”

Waiting anxiously as Mimsy puruses the web, she makes a ‘eureka’ type sound. 

“Well if it makes you feel any better, apparently around seventeen percent of women aged eighteen to fifty experience vaginal dryness problems during sex. So you’re not a freak - yay!”

“Thank you for that,” you grumble. “What else does it say? Does it say why it happens?”

“Not being turned on enough is the leading cause. Insufficient foreplay type things,” Mimsy reads. 

You shake your head, fingers pressed to your lips in thought. “No, I was definitely turned it on. It was only when he was no longer kissing me and stuff…”

“Is that when the Tyler thoughts started?” Mimsy wonders. 

You nod. 

“Alright, well, other reasons are psychological. Stress, anxiety, that kind of thing. You think that might be it?”

“Maybe,” you muse. Before you can try to expand your thoughts, Mimsy’s phone chimes. She momentarily disappears as she reads the text, and you watch as she gets up in a rush. “You good?”

“Darren hit me up. He said he’ll be here in five.”

“Wait, Darren?” you gape. “Since when were you hooking up with Darren?”

“Like a week ago, at this beach get-together. He’s gotten cuter, y’know? Works out and stuff now,” she grins cheeky at the camera, licking her teeth.

It's times like these that you realise how much your lives are already changing without the other knowing. Most of the time it's easy to ignore, but every now and then the FOMO is relentless and jealousy tries to rear its ugly head. 

“Right, I gotta dash. I need to check I’m nice and clean shaven.”

“T.M.I. Mimsy. We need some boundaries."

“Yeah, you’re right,” Mimsy says before deadpanning: “have fun navigating your dry vagina.”

“Fair point,” you mumble. With that, Mimsy disappears from your screen.

You mindlessly meddle on Instagram, editing your latest post - a picture of the Pogues you took a few weeks ago - and scrolling through the feed. A text notification appears. It’s JJ.

Let me in. 

Frowning, you reply. 

Hello?? 

I’m outside lol. Let me in. 

Frown deepening, you ditch your phone and rush down the stairs. Sure enough, when you open the door, JJ’s there. He’s wearing a t-shirt and shorts, and those same damned combat boots. No cap, messy tendrils of hair sticking out any which way. 

“What are you doing here?”

“I was bored.”

“Oh,” you reply. JJ had never come into your house before. Always picked you up or dropped you off outside. “Well, come in, I guess.”

JJ gladly does so. Wanders through the doorway, hands in his pockets. 

“What you been up to today?” you wonder. 

“Went to Heyward’s with Pope to earn a couple bucks,” JJ says as he eyes up the decor. Most things are unpacked now, having been in Kildare for almost two months. Faux family photos line the mantle of the fire which doesn’t work. JJ peruses them. “You were a cute kid.”

“Thanks,” you say. “You want a drink or something?”

“Nah, I’m good,” he says, pulling out his flask. You roll your eyes as he takes a swig of what you assume is whiskey. “Where your parents at?”

“Trying to rekindle their romance on a weekend trip to my uncle’s place,” you say. “I was just gonna edit the last lot of photos I took at Kook Club.”

“They any good?” he asks. 

The two of you had worked the latest Gala dinner. It had been to “raise money” for the already pristine, state-of-the-art tennis courts. Whilst they were charging guests a thousand dollars per ticket, you and JJ left with less than a hundred bucks for ten hours worth of work. 

“They’re alright. Rafe and his posse are in the back of a bunch, sneaking drinks, so I need to edit that crap out,” you huff. You start up the stairs and JJ follows. Opening the door, you guide JJ into your bedroom. 

“Ta da,” you say. “My humble abode.”

“Cute bear,” JJ teases, pointedly looking at your well-cuddled stuffie.

You rush to grab him, hiding him under the pillow and nervously laughing when you turn back to him. 

His eyes gravitate to your pinboard of pictures. A collection of your favourites. Friends mostly, with about two of your parents. Lots of Vancouver. The Pogues. JJ. Things you took whilst people-watching. Most of the photos are pictures of the neighbourhood and town. Beaches and trees and people going about their days. Boats bobbing on water and fisherman dragging up crab-cages. Children biking down the street and old couples sat on their porches like something from a Suburbia advert in the fifties. There’s an intrigued slant to his brow as he takes in the world you see. 

Then, JJ plucks one from the masses and holds it with care, something seemingly unnatural for someone so energetic. You can’t help but study him as he studies your picture. It’s one you took almost two weeks ago, of a man that you saw smoking a cigarette outside of a dive bar. There was something about him that seemed so tired and worn, like he’d wasted his happiness on something unforgiving. JJ’s smile fades. There’s an urge to ask him if he's okay, though you’re not sure why. 

He returns it to the board and deliberates over some more. You try and think of something to say but come up with nothing. 

“These are really good,” JJ absent-mindedly tells you, eyes trained on the pictures. 

“Thanks.”

JJ smiles at the one you took of him. It’s a strange smile: like he’s surprised by his own candidness. Then he physically freezes. You follow his trained vision to a picture hidden under layers. Oh no. 

“Is that…”

JJ takes it from the board, careful not to disturb the others, and stares at it for a painful length of time. All you can do is fidget nervously, eyes wide, and watch him piece together the picture. Frowning, he holds it up to you as he turns. 

“When did you take this?”

“Um…”

It’s of him, laughing from afar, standing before a sunsetting sky, the sea in the distance. You try to grab it off him but his reflexes are too fast. JJ holds it above his head, out of your reach. 

“Just one time at the beach.”

“Nuh-uh,” JJ says, a grin starting to unfurl. “You’re lying. When’d you take this? I don’t remember you taking this.”

“Just a dumb candid I got at this kegger one time. It was ages ago,” you hurriedly say. 

And all the puzzle pieces click in JJ’s mind. The grin comes through in full effect and he points a finger in your face. Your stomach sinks through the floor. 

“It was you!”

“W-what?” you stammer.

“You were the peeping Tom at Chloe’s kegger! I knew I didn’t fucking imagine it!” JJ announces. 

No, no, bad, bad, bad. 

“Holy shit! I’ve been trying to figure out who it was and it was you the whole time!”

“Don’t be a dick, okay? I just like people-watching. Clearly!” you defend, gesturing to the pictures. 

“I’m not being a dick,” JJ says, enthusiasm dwindling. He lowers the photo and looks at it again. A smile returns, sweeter this time. “It’s a really good photo.”

“Course you’d say that,” you snort, taking it back. “You’re in love with yourself.”

“Damn straight,” he gloats. He watches you place the photo in your bedside drawer. “Putting that in your wank bank for later, then?”

“Careful,” you snarl, shooting him a glare. He cackles.

ADHD brain in full swing, JJ takes to investigating your cameras. “You ever take photos of yourself?”

“No.”

“Ever had people take them for you?”

“Look, some people photograph well,” you say, gesturing to JJ, “and some people don’t.”

JJ quirks a brow. “Are you saying you’re not photogenic?”

You make a face of ‘well, duh’ and JJ laughs incredulously.

“Oh, bullshit. You’re smoking! You’d take a great picture.”

“Well, history proves otherwise,” you laugh, flopping onto your bed. 

JJ looks back to the cameras. At his extended quiet, you gain the sense that he’s plotting something. Concocting. “What?”

“Just thinkin’,” he hums. He grabs your Polaroid camera, turning to you. “This charged?”

“It’s battery powered, JJ,” you say. “So, yes.”

“Got paper in it?”

“That little dial on the right will say.”

JJ checks and a grin reappears. “Lie down.”

“Excuse me?”

“Humour me,” JJ says, “lie down.”

Rolling your eyes, you comply, lying down like a corpse. “Happy?”

“No, fucking…” JJ poorly  imitates a sensual pose. You giggle. “Give it some effort.”

Sighing, as if it’s some great effort, you do as he asks. JJ grins and lifts the camera. With that, you crack up and raise a hand, trying to push the lens away. He snaps a photo before you can. 

“JJ!”

“Come on, come on! Pose it up, girl,” he urges. 

Aware that he won’t quit, you sit up and smile reluctantly with a lopsided head tilt. JJ takes another photo. 

“Okay, gimme something sexy.”

“Sexy?” you guffaw. 

“Yeah! Something for my wank bank.”

“Jesus Christ,” you mutter. You tug your shirt off before you can overthink it and lean back on your arms, dressed in pyjama shorts and bralette. JJ’s grin takes up half his face. “Happy?”

“That’s it baby, work it…”

At his compliments and praises, you entertain him further. Your confidence blossoms under the lens and you start to understand why people like being photographed. It makes you feel important. Beautiful, like you’re something worthy to be captured. You find yourself grabbing at your tit with one hand, staring doe-eyed into the lens. Another photo has you teasing at showing your nipple, pulling down the lip of your bra.

As JJ continues to snap away, you see his dick getting harder and harder under his shorts. When the camera runs out of film, JJ dumps it on your desk and he practically pounces on you. Consumes you with a heady kiss, a hand reaching up to your jaw, tilting your head to deepen it. You’re obsessed with the way JJ kisses. It’s so forward, unapologetic and proud. Tender and telling, dominating and delicate.

When his hands palm at your crotch over your clothes, your heart sinks. Using all the strength you have, you grab his shoulders and force him down onto his back, on your bed. An impressed, bewildered smile lights up his face. It’s quickly overshadowed with lust.

Now straddling his chest, JJ pulls you back down with both hands, bringing your lips to his. You both grin into the messy kiss. 

“Don’t think I forgot what you said during hot seat,” JJ mumbles out through the kiss. You don’t bother to answer. Start making work of his throat, empowered by the new position. “About your favourite position.”

Your only response is to rut back against his hard-on. JJ stammers out a groan which seems to quiet him. You push his shirt up just as he did yours the other night, and take to praising his toned chest. Lightly trace your tongue over his nipples. Who would have thought JJ was a switch? Not you. 

“Please, baby, fuck,” JJ stammers. 

“You want my mouth?” you tease, rubbing him through his shorts. 

“God, yes, yes,” he begs, eyes closed tight with pleasure. 

You drag it out. Leisurely free him from his shorts and boxers. Take long, slow kisses right up from his calves, guiding your trial with your nails. When you finally take his leaking tip in your mouth, JJ grabs at the sheets with a moan. You go down on him, varying between fast and slow, deep and shallow. Suckle at the tip just to hear the sounds he makes, sat up on his forearms to watch. 

“Takin’ me so well,” JJ groans. One of his hands fists into your hair. “Fuck…That’s it.”

You hum around his dick, grabbing at the flesh of his thigh for purchase as you work him closer and closer to the edge. He pulls you off him before he comes, spilling onto his chest with a shuddering groan. You sit back on your haunches, wiping at your mouth, as JJ sits up. You grab the box of tissues from beside your bed and offer them to him. He’s almost blushing as he takes them, cleaning himself up. 

“Christ, you Vancouver girls are built different, huh?” he says. 

You laugh, flustered. “Well, I can’t speak for all of us.”

“Don’t need you to,” JJ smirks, reaching out for you by your hip bone. “I got the perfect one right here.”

He easily pulls you into his lap with one arm. Dumbs your thoughts with a kiss, tongue swirling deliciously in your mouth. But when one of his hands ventures lower, you pull away with a small smile. He tries to chase your mouth with his but you place a hand to the apex of his neck, keeping him at bay. He frowns.

Tracing the pad of your thumb under one of his eyes, you quietly say, “maybe another night.”

JJ’s reaction mirrors that of a child being told they can’t have a candy bar. “Wait, seriously?”

“I’m tired,” you lie with a laugh. Pecking his lips, you smile. “Worn me out.”

“Barely fucking touched you,” JJ grumbles, disgruntled. You move off him and grab the mess of tissues, filtering them into your bedroom bin. You can feel JJ watching you as you gather the polaroid photos from the floor. “Is this about the other night?”

Your lack of reply is reply enough. 

“That was probably a fluke! I read somewhere that dehydration can cause it,” JJ tells you. You make your way back over with a small smile. JJ reaches out a hand and grabs you by your hip. He leans forward and places a kiss to your stomach through your t-shirt. Looks up at you, innocent through his lashes. “Just let me at you and I’m sure you’ll be fine.”

“As romantic as that is,” you sardonically say, looping your fingers through his hair and gently easing him away, “I just wanna go to sleep. You staying over?”

“Is that cool with you?” JJ checks. 

“Mhm,” you say. “I’m gonna go wash up, yeah?”

“Alright,” JJ replies, already tugging off his shirt. 

When you’re finished in the bathroom you find JJ under your sheets, scrolling on his phone. You settle in beside him. Your bed is just slightly bigger than a twin. It gives you a good excuse to cuddle up against him. Sighing, JJ clicks off his phone and lays back. 

“You wanna get the light?” he wonders, absentmindedly stroking your shoulder.

“No,” you mumble against his sturdy frame. “I sleep with it on.”

“Oh. Alright.”

JJ coils an arm around your midsection, bending to your form like ivy wills to a building. And how strange is it to think, that as you and JJ fall asleep tangled up with each other, that a box of your ex-boyfriend's things lies under the bed.

read part seven here!

taglist:

@princessuki21 | @psyches-reid | @heybank | @avengersgirllorianna | @rrosiitas | @yourmumstoy | @jjsfavgirl | @void21 | @fictionalcomforts | @gsp420 | @redhead1180 | @wearemadeofstardust0 | @mrs-jjmaybank | @ifilwtmfc | @heybank | @lilyw1235 | @belle101200

[hmslusitania]

prompt number 2, 8, 15, or 35 for TimKon or something with arrowfam (tv or comics lol)? Or whichever prompt that's calling to you! :)

I went with 8: "Am I close?" "Not even a little."

The thing is, Kon shouldn’t really be surprised. Tim, who hates surprises but keeps secrets like it’s his first language, is exactly the sort of person who — given a modicum of leeway — would plan some insane surprise situation for his boyfriend without even letting Kon have a hint about what it is.

“You scheduled us all a shift in the Justice League’s old moon base because you want to see what happens when Bart tries to run at reduced gravity,” Kon guesses, poking the bare strip of skin between the hem of Tim’s shirt and waistband of his boxer briefs. Tim is sitting up in bed and hunched over his laptop, focusing heavily on some case details for his latest Gotham bullshit situation. Kon is pretty much immune to random body aches, but his back twinges in sympathy the longer he observes Tim’s posture.

“No, but I do want to do that now,” Tim says, shifting a little when Kon pokes him again.

“Why won’t you just tell me?”

“And ruin the surprise?” Tim asks, twisting to look at him. The new posture does nothing to help the state of his back, and Kon can’t look at it anymore without intervening. He snatches Tim around the waist, uses his TTK to put Tim’s laptop safely on the floor, and hauls him back to bed.

“Can I get a hint?” Kon asks, when he’s got Tim’s spine properly straightened out and Tim’s face mashed against his chest.

Tim hums, considering. “No,” he decides finally.

“You convinced Wonder Woman to let us borrow her jet, so we can go to that crazy mall out in the middle of space where they sell everything and relive our wasted youth as ‘hoodlums who lurk in malls’,” Kon guesses, grabbing the two Gotham goons trying to rob the bank he’d been assigned by the collars of their jackets and hauling them up into the air while they scream.

“If you’re going to operate in Gotham, please observe Bat-comm protocol,” Oracle scolds mildly through the earpiece Kon had been talked into.

“I was never—” Tim starts, and is interrupted by the sound of his bo staff hitting the goons at the bank he’d been dispatched to. Kon thinks this is probably moor coordination than the general Gotham goon squad typically gets up to — robbing a dozen banks simultaneously in broad daylight because they’d been under the impression there was just the one daylight vigilante — but he’s not the detective here and his only real job is to help prevent the robberies. “—a mall hoodlum.”

“That’s just because the one mall in Gotham that wasn’t constantly getting carpet bombed by fear gas when we were growing up didn’t have a game store,” Steph pipes up in the comms.

“Ooh! Is that the surprise? You’re finally gonna teach me Dungeons and Dragons?” Kon asks.

“Kids, as much as I respect both games that help you hone skills like improv and storytelling and math, and the joys of young love,” Black Lightning says over the comms. “Maybe you can work on planning your date night later?”

“Sorry,” Tim and Kon reply, and Kon goes back to delivering his set of goons to the waiting members of the GCPD Oracle had dispatched to collect them.

Kon doesn’t reconnect with Tim until they’re done stopping all the robberies, the Bats, the Outsiders, and Kon pitching in because he’s in town. He meets him on a rooftop where Tim’s perched on a gargoyle to observe his city, and he smiles when Kon extends the bag of Bat Burger takeout his way.

“Did you get the fries Jokerized?” Tim asks.

“No, that felt like it was in really bad taste,” Kon replies.

Tim hums and goes a little pink beneath his mask. “Actually, they’re pretty good, and since even Jason’s said that, it’s just one of those weird facts we have to live with.”

“If you guys go into Bat Burger in costume, do they give you discounts?” Kon asks, unwrapping his own burger. “Like, I think the Flashes all have free admittance to the Flash Museum, or would if it was possible to keep them out of it.”

“They don’t give us discounts, but they do look at us kinda funny if we order things besides the menu items named for us,” Tim says.

“This city’s insane, right, like, you do know that,” Kon says. It’s kinda supposed to be a question, but he can’t quite make it one since it’s such an obvious statement.

“Yeah,” Tim agrees, with nearly a fond sigh about it.

They eat their burgers in companionable quiet for a moment, and then Kon prods Tim in the knee. “So was I close? Game night?”

Tim grins at him. There’s a sesame seed stuck at the corner of his mouth, and it shouldn’t be cute, but Kon is uselessly gone on him, so it is anyway. “Not even a little.”

--

“Someone crafted a superpowered rage room and we’re going to—”

“Nope.”

“The Watchtower needs new permanent crew for a six-month shift—”

“It has nothing to do with space.”

“Well, that’s — wait, is this blindfold lead-lined?”

“Did you just try to x-ray vision your way into a hint?” Tim demands, and stops walking. Kon, guided only by Tim’s hands on his shoulders, also lurches to a stop.

“Well, yeah,” he says.

“Cheater,” Tim scolds.

“I already agreed not to use my super-hearing or my super smelling, you’ve gotta give me something,” Kon complains.

Tim mutters something under his breath that might be “I give you plenty,” but Kon’s pretty sure it’s not the time for that kind of talk.

“Step up,” Tim instructs, and Kon places his foot on a wooden stair that creaks under his weight. “Another one.”

The second stair creaks too, in a way that’s deeply familiar, and Kon knows before Tim says that there’s one last step onto the porch, and that really begs the question of why Tim’s dragged him to the Kent household as part of the surprise.

Tim circles around him and pushes open the front door, pulling Kon inside by the hand.

“Surprise!”

The call comes from more than just Ma and Pa Kent, and when Kon pulls down the blindfold, the living room is packed with people. Bart and Cassie and Cissie are all there, and Clark and Lois and Jon and Kara, and right in centre, Krypto, who launches himself to lick Kon’s face as soon as Jon lets go of his collar.

“We know it’s not really your birthday,” Ma says, nudging Krypto aside so she can hug him. “But it’s the anniversary of the day we got you back.”

“Kind of like a re-birthday,” Tim suggests, squeezing Kon’s hand.

“Okay,” Kon says, choking on the lump in his throat, which the rest of the group takes as an excuse to hug him as well.

“Sorry it’s not space,” Tim says when Ma squeezes him one last time and then goes to cut apart the cake she’s made.

“That’s okay,” Kon promises, kissing him even though his face is covered in Krypto’s slobber and even though Tim makes a face about that. “This is way better.”

[kari-go]

This was so much fun :D

They will change ofc. Mostly just Marinette and Chris get buffer xd

btw, the body birthmarks' placement was random.

Ramblings under cut

Marinette

Marinette has a typical teen girl body type. I don't think that her legs and arms would be weak tho. She helps around in the bakery and has to keep up with Kim. Sometimes she even runs with him in the morning (he takes a slower pace ofc).

She does have neat handwriting when she isn't in a rush, which doesn't happen that often honestly. Sometimes her notes are readable sometimes not, it's a gamble. She tries to make them look nice tho, she has a few highlighters she uses constantly.

Chris

Chris has a sort of hourglass shape. I always drew him as slender and like. Why did I do that. It's a crime that I haven't drawn him chubby like of course he will be. Mf sits around all day and goes on a walk sometimes like bruh. Other than that he has really veiny hands, another thing he got from Arthur along with his baby face lol (although, Arthur’s veins are even more prominent, so much they're kinda concerning). I like how I drew them :]. The baby face is not gonna change soon unless he stops transforming which he definitely won't do. Btw, despite being the weakest of the trio as a civilian, he's actually the strongest while transformed (with the lion ofc)

As for his handwriting, it's not bad. Sometimes he squishes the words together to not waste space and it ends up not being readable.

Stephan

He's already pretty athletic, he used to do competitive gymnastics and ice skating in his free time. Used to, he sprained his wrist (mostly out of stress and to occupy his mind to keep him from thinking about Viktor,,,, it's just.. a thing he does). Then they moved to Paris anyway, so he just stopped completely. He gained a little weight so he started running in the morning, to also get to know the city better. He also starts going to the gym with Kim after a while. His freckles are mostly on his face and neck

Surprise, his name is Štěpán lol. Would Štefan/Stefan be more fitting? Yes, but I like Štěpán more. Anyway, his handwriting is really neat, he's left-handed btw (idk just vibes). His notes are also nicely organized so he's the one to go to out of the yellow group if you need them.

Alya

Alya, my girl, I love her. She doesn't do much physical activity, she usually just sits around doing something on her phone or laptop. But after The Butterfly appears she starts running around more, to get the footage for Ladyblog. Her stamina gets so good omg

Her handwriting is not that bad. It honestly depends on the day and mood, sometimes she can't even read it herself xd

Chloe

Chloe is another athlete, she did gymnastics, track running, ice skating and sometimes ballet and fencing. Her legs are so powerful you have no idea. I know that's a lot of sports and her grades reflect that which is why she needs a tutor. She stopped ice skating, fencing, and ballet when she was younger and now she just does them for fun, when she gets the time ( ,,, she honestly doesn't lol). But now she also quit the other ones as she went into lycee because her grades were too bad and Andre put his foot down (he mostly just told her that Audrey would be disappointed oof). Btw, Aurore’s mom was her ballet teacher :) definitely no rivalry there 

She writes in cursive? She does, to make herself stand out and appear fancy. It does look fancy but she focuses on that too much so sometimes she doesn't write everything down :/

Kagami

My girl is BUFF. Her main focus is on fencing, which is how she met Chloe :D. She has a private gym wherever she lives, so she trains there. She also has an interest in archery and sometimes ice skating so she does that but also just regular sparring. But again, her main focus is fencing, she's already one of the best but she can be better. Her freckles are mostly on her face (her nose to be specific) and are more sparse on her body

Her handwriting, like everything else about her, is bold.

Lila

What do I say about her? She cares about her appearance a lot and she knows she's pretty. She exercises at home but also goes to the gym sometimes (she has to watch out for her asthma tho). Her self-control fails when it comes to sweets but it goes to her thighs mostly which she doesn't mind as much. Her tummy and fingers annoy her tho

Pretty handwriting. She tries to make her notes pretty but gets so occupied with that, that she doesn't even pay attention to the lesson and just the appearance (wow really subtle lol)

Nino

He's the least athletic out of the three besties, he doesn't even try to catch up anymore xd. He can barely run a lap (same tbh). 

His handwriting takes up space and is sometimes unreadable. That's not really an issue because he remembers stuff more by listening so he doesn't take notes. He just looks at Marinette’s (or Stephan’s after they meet) if he needs to.

Kim

Another athletic fella. He does track running and swimming. He did track sooner than swimming but he likes swimming more and wants to focus on it (it's also how he and Ondine met). And like I mentioned before, he runs in the mornings and then starts going to the gym with Steph. So yeah, another strong legs lol

His handwriting takes up SO much space. He goes through so many notebooks, it's also not that readable xd and it's not like he can focus on the study sessions with Nino and Marinette, they usually just end up playing UMS3. (he always loses if you're asking)

Juleka

Jules! She's pretty thin. She walks around a lot and forgets to eat sometimes. Especially when she's studying. Her collarbone is really prominent, she also has bony hands.

Her handwriting is small, sometimes unreadable

Luka

He has a belly button piercing!!!! (very important information imo) That's it. bony hands also

His handwriting is shit. You will not understand half of the stuff (unless you're Juleka).

Sabrina

Just an average teen girl's body, she exercises at home at least once a day.

The best person to go to for notes. So nice, so readable, so neat

Alix

Her legs are strong, she just flies around all day. She skates to school every day (which is like 45 mins on foot). Then she goes to a skate park or a roller skating rink.

Her handwriting is somehow worse than Luka's, like it's completely unreadable, just cat scratches.

Mylene

She loves walking around, just taking in the atmosphere and nature

She has really small handwriting, the words look lonely on the page

Max

He sits around a lot but he makes sure to exercise to make sure his body is healthy. He also watches his diet.

His handwriting is the best out of the class but his notes look less nice than Sabrina’s. He always writes down his full name

Rose

She has a hard time gaining and maintaining weight (even if we ignore her allergies) so she eats a lot and doesn't exercise much. Her chronic cough also doesn't help

Her notes are always decorated, there are so many cute drawings and stickers. It's so adorable

Nathaniel

He's a lot like Chris, except he gets forced to do stuff by Alix

He doesn't have the prettiest handwriting. He usually just ends up drawing all over the page

Ivan

His little sister is a back killer, she wants to be on his shoulders all the time.

His handwriting is on the smaller side

Aurore

She did ballet since she knew how to walk. She slowed down a little, wanting to focus on her grades and the weather competition she loses.

Pretty notes, she doesn't use highlighter and decorations that much, just headers

Ondine

Swimmer, she's like a fish. She has pretty wide shoulders. She has freckles everywhere.

Her handwriting is so round and spacey. She has a lot of pretty highlighters. Also her last name is Rosseau :D!

Marc

They don't exercise much, or at all. They like to take a walk when their inspiration is low

Their handwriting is nice, but it can get messy when they're really inspired and just write with no breaks.

[lambertdiary]

Can i request a Dalton fic where Chris tries to set him up for a date but he’s literally like “I have a gf” and points to a portrait on the wall of the reader but Chris doesn’t believe him bc reader is hot as hell and doesn’t go to their uni but eventually is super shocked when Dalton invites reader over to stay the weekend 🥹💜

A/N: Hey! FINALLY I have something to post. So I'm not entirely sure how I feel about it so please let me know what you think :) also sorry if the ending sucks, I never know how to end my fics so it always seems a little abrupt lol

Word Count: 2k+

Warnings: Chris and Dalton argue a lot ig, but none

MASTERLIST     ✩    SEND ME A REQUEST

I Have A Girlfriend

Halloween was coming and everyone on campus was getting ready, not for trick-and-treating or for the fun costumes, but for the massive parties everywhere. Every frat house tried their best to outshine the others, so they went really big.

Chris was especially excited for her first halloween there and the fact that she heard the craziest stories about these parties made it better. She already knew she was dragging Dalton with her but she thought it would be more fun if they got dates.

Halloween weekend was this week and with the first party happening on Friday, she was already working on their dates. She had been talking to one of the guys from her roommate’s class and that morning, she secured her date, but she still needed to do something about her friend, who she was sure would never get a date on his own. Not because he didn’t look the part, but because he was extremely shy and reserved. But luckily she had the perfect date for him: her own roommate. Dalton has met her before, several times actually and they always seemed to hit it off, so he wouldn’t have to go through that awkward situation of meeting her for the first time. It was perfect.

After class, she walked over to his dorm, excited to share the news. She knew Dalton wasn’t big on dates or relationships because since college started he has never made a move on anyone, as a matter of fact, he always appeared uncomfortable around anyone but her, but maybe this would work out. She really hoped it would.

Chris knocked on the door and Dalton yelled at her to let herself in. She entered the room and greeted him as he worked on something on his laptop, it didn’t look like he was gonna move so she decided to sit next to him on his bed “So Dalton, I have great news” 

Dalton looked up at her but immediately felt nervous as he recognized the look on her face and thought about what her concept of ‘great news’ was “What’s up?” He asked, not really wanting to know.

“I got you a date”

Dalton tilted his head quizzically “Why would I need a date?”

“For the halloween party! I told you, it will be more fun if we bring dates with us”

“When did I agree on that?”

“Just now” She paused and got a little irritated at Dalton’s annoyed expression “And I know you have a hard time with people so I took the liberty of setting you up with my roommate, so you’re welcome” Chris explained.

“I have a girlfriend” He stated, looking back at the screen on his lap.

“No you don’t” Chris furrowed her eyebrows as she tried to remember Dalton ever mentioning a girlfriend, but he never did. Just as she was about to say something Dalton pointed at the wall with a quick head motion, and her eyes widened when she spotted a girl “That’s your girlfriend?”

“Yep” He replied, eyes still focused on his laptop.

“Are you sure that’s not some random girl you decided to draw cause you thought she was pretty?” Chris examined the girl in the portrait, a really hot girl that looked like she would have anyone wrapped around her fingers.

He looked at her again, a little offended and in total disbelief “No, that’s my girlfriend. And I too think she’s pretty, thank you”

“How come I’ve never met her?”

“She goes to a different school”

Chris let out a laugh and mockingly repeated “She goes to a different school”

“Really? You’re gonna do that?”

“Show me some pictures” She demanded, but Dalton just rolled his eyes at her “Or texts or something”

“I’m not gonna do that” 

“Dalton, you don’t have to lie about having a girlfriend, just say you don’t wanna go out on a date with my roommate”

“Chris, I do have a girlfriend. But even if I didn’t, I don’t think I would go out with your roommate. It doesn’t seem fair to drag her with me to one of these creep parties just because you think it would be more fun”

“What do you mean drag her with you?”

“I’m pretty sure she doesn’t like me” Chris opened her mouth to speak again but Dalton interrupted her “Look, it doesn’t matter, I don’t need a date”

“Fine, it doesn’t have to be my roommate, we can find you someone else”

“No, I’m not gonna cheat on my girlfriend”

Chris sighed in frustration “And how come you’ve never mentioned her before?”

Dalton scoffed, he was getting a little sick of her aggressive questioning “Y/N? I have talked about her” 

She did remember him mentioning someone called Y/N, but then again Dalton had only ever mentioned about 3 women in total, including his mum and sister, so how was she supposed to know he had a girlfriend? “You never said she was your girlfriend”

“Why would I have to clarify that?”

“So I wouldn’t set you up on dates”

“Well now you know I have a girlfriend so you can stop insisting on the date”

Chris sighed again when she realised Dalton wasn’t giving up on this whole girlfriend thing, so instead of fighting him, she decided to join him “Well why don’t you invite your ‘girlfriend’ for halloween weekend” She asked him, making the quotation marks only obvious to herself.

Dalton was about to say no but he thought about it for a moment. It wasn’t a horrible idea, they haven’t seen each other since uni started and halloween together did seem fun “You know what? That’s a great idea, maybe I should”

Chris’ eyes widened in surprise as she watched Dalton grab his phone and type for a moment “Great, I’ll meet her this weekend then” She said, still suspicious but both impressed and confused as to why he would agree to something like that.

The days went by and Friday finally arrived. Chris and Dalton had seen each other every day but the girlfriend subject was never brought up again, he didn’t even tell her she was arriving earlier that day and that he planned on spending the entire weekend with her. 

Dalton was nervously waiting for her at the train station, holding a bouquet of her favourite flowers while scanning the people coming through the big gates. She saw him first, awkwardly standing and trying not to bump into anyone, but once he finally spotted her she smiled when she saw his eyes light up. She literally ran to him and gave him a big hug, whispering sweet nothings as they shared how much they missed each other before kissing.

“How was the trip?” Dalton asked her when they left the train station. “Can’t complain, my booth was empty so it was pretty comfortable”

“Did it suck to travel at night?” 

“Not at all, I managed to sleep most of the time” She shared happily.

They made their way to campus and Dalton was giving her a quick tour as they walked to his dorm. He was carrying her luggage and they talked about how lucky they were that Dalton didn’t have a roommate and she could easily stay in his dorm. 

Dalton decided to skip classes today so he could spend time with Y/N, it was their first time together in months anyway. He took her to all his favourite places on campus, showing her a little bit of his daily routine and where the art building was. He also had the opportunity to show her in person every piece he had been working on since uni started and a few future projects he was planning. She was blushing every time she recognized her own face, from the second they came in and she saw a portrait of her on Dalton’s wall. She was used to him drawing her but it still made her feel special. 

As far as their plans for the day, they decided to go to the halloween party opening night. Y/N loved halloween and dressing up, so she came prepared with two different costumes, making sure her boyfriend would match both of them.

They agreed on staying in his dorm for the rest of the day, they could easily order something for lunch and then start getting ready around 6 PM, leaving enough time for a nap in case she needed it, and Dalton kept insisting she did since she travelled all night to get there. 

He had not heard anything from Chris but he was sure she was planning on going to the party that night, so they would probably join her and her date for the party, just as she intended it.

“Food’s here, I’ll go get it” Dalton said leaving his bed. 

“Do you need help?” Y/N was ready to join him but Dalton stopped her. 

“No, don’t worry” He replied, giving her a soft smile “Why don’t you stay here and find something to watch? I’ll be right back” Y/N stayed there as she scrolled through the hundreds of movie options on Dalton’s laptop, not really finding anything interesting. She was so focused on the screen she jumped when she heard a knock on the door. She stood up quickly to open it, assuming Dalton’s full hands didn’t allow him to do it himself, but instead she was met with someone else. It was Chris. 

Y/N had no idea who that was, but Chris instantly recognized the girl standing in front of her, mixed emotions as she was surprised but still confused, wondering if Y/N was actually Dalton’s girlfriend. 

“Hey, I’m Chris” She said, extending her hand for a handshake.

“Chris!” Y/N exclaimed, giving a hug instead “I’ve heard a lot about you” She moved to the side as she allowed her to enter the room “I’m Y/N, Dalton’s girlfriend” 

“Oh” Chris whispered as she looked at the portrait on the wall and then back at her “It’s great to finally meet you”

“Same! I know you and Dalton are really good friends so I was really excited to meet you”

“Yeah, I’ve been looking forward to this moment as soon as he told me about you” Y/N blushed as she nervously sat back on the bed “So how did you two meet?”

“Oh, we met in high school and we have been together ever since”

“And Dalton tells me you go to a different school?”

“I do” She replied, looking sad for a moment “We talked about getting into the same college but the art program he wanted is here and I was lucky to get into my dream college, so we decided to give long distance shot, and so far so good”

Chris felt bad for not believing Dalton, Y/N was really nice and she was obviously really important to him. And now looking at her she realised it made total sense that they were together, Y/N was beautiful and Chris sometimes forgot how Dalton actually looked like “And for how long-” She began, but the door opening interrupted her.

“Sorry I took so long, the delivery guy went to the wrong building and I had to walk there” Y/N quickly approached him to help with the food and Dalton smiled at Chris once he saw her “Oh, I see you two finally met” Dalton said, crossing his arms once the food was on his desk.

The two girls nodded and smiled at each other “Yeah, we were just catching up” Y/N said “Uh- I’m just gonna go wash my hands really quick, I’ll be back in a moment”

They watched as Y/N left the room and Dalton immediately turned to Chris, giving her an ‘I told you so’ look “I guess I owe you an apology” She admitted.

“Yes you do”

“In my defence you never mentioned having a girlfriend until I tried to get you a date, so it did sound like an excuse”

“Yeah, maybe don’t mention setting me up on dates in front of her”

[kkl1nch0r]

title: chase of lies PART 2 (blade x FBI gn!reader)

notes: ermmm i had trouble writing this because I'm not an FBI agent nor a super intelligent detective/investigor 😍😍 anyways I tried my best lol!!!!!!!!! this part is more shorter because.... I'm working on two fics on the same time (this fic was the most impulsive shit I've written LMFAOOO)

this is where it gets freaky. OBSESSED BLADE LOVERS WHERE YALL ATTTTTTTTUUHHH

2 months.

The undercover mission is pure madness— you’ve found traces of the Stellaron Hunters around the area, breaking every law you had devoted your life to enforce.

Hard as it was, you found yourself walking around the streets with a bounce in your step. The chase had led you out into the outskirts of a city upstate. The Xianzhou seemed so far away, but being approved on File X was like a high.

“It’s going to be a solo mission, I’m afraid,” Jing Yuan had said before your depart. “We’re low on staff. If you need a search or some pointers, you can always give us a call.”

The director had paused, his expression that of concern. “And… be careful. I know it's like listening to a broken record player, but there’s no predicting what any of the Stellaron Hunters could do.”

Well, that was unsettling.

“Especially Blade,” Jing Yuan had mentioned. “You’ve dedicated most of your life to chasing that man down, but please… don’t let him take your life completely. Make sure you come back to us. Got it?”

A solo mission wasn’t anything you couldn’t handle. Just a piece of cake!

That was okay… fine, it got a little lonely sometimes, sitting in hotels, sipping bitter coffee, furiously typing at your laptop, scouring the last crumbs of evidence from news articles and research papers, but this was File X. The file you had fought for to go through with.

You couldn’t afford to back down now. Besides, your laptop had brought up another news article about the Stellaron Hunters, and seeing the publishing date it had been pretty decent.

It’s late, but you’re still awake, looking at the files the investigation unit had sent you.

A blurry picture popped up on the page, and you zoomed in, eyes narrowing. Hmm… this was the wrong article, surely. This man didn’t look like Blade at all.

Your phone buzzed. Somebody was calling.

Reaching over, you received the call, holding it up to your ear as you scrolled, finding another thread of posts. Fu Xuan sent you another file as the notification pops up on your screen. Sighing into the phone, you click on it.

Dan Heng’s voice crackles over the phone. You wince. “Hey, everything alright over there?”

“ —N! Y/n!” Dan Heng calls over the line. You frown. Something’s wrong.

“What’s the matter, Dan Heng? Talk to me.”

“You— have to stop— File X!” Dan Heng’s voice crackles again as you scroll over your laptop, a line of unsettling pictures flashing over the screen. The location of these pictures was somewhere close to this area. Your eyes glaze over the address, eyes narrowing.

Dan Heng’s line silences for a second before cracking up again. “Y/n, be careful. There’s—” his voice cuts off again.

“Who’s fighting over the line here?” you ask, looking at images of dismembered corpses that appear on the screen. Then you pause. “Dan Heng? Are you there?”

Dan Heng yells in frustration over the line. “Just— careful!”

“Okay, will do,” you reply. “Why?”

“It’s because… the Stellaron Hunters…” Dan Heng’s line cuts off into incoherent gibberish. After a moment he gains control over the call. “Right next to— have to— change your identity! That’s all Jing Yuan said to do.”

“Send me the details, Dan Heng. Call you later.”

“Be careful,” is his last word over the call and it ends. You toss your phone back on the bed, groaning as you run a hand over your face. It hasn’t been the first time the Investigation unit called, but something was amiss. Dan Heng had never sounded that desperate before.

You straighten, mind flashing the pictures into your head. “Wait a minute…”

The image you had stopped scrolling on… you’d seen it somewhere. A red flower.

Wait, no. The red flower.

The Spider Lily. You had practically ingrained that flower into your head since your early investigation days. The trace of the Stellaron Hunters.

Blade.

Something else is eating at you, though. Like an obsessed madman, you scroll back up to the details Fu Xuan had sent.

The location. The address.

Silence hangs in the air. The address where these pictures were taken… was right below the hotel you were staying at.

You slap a palm over your head. “You’re joking.”

Did you blow your cover yet? You didn’t know. Did they find you? You didn’t know. Was it a coincidence?

The lack of certainty in this situation was making you anxious. Dan Heng’s frustration over the phone about being more careful was growing eerie.

The spider lily—

“Okay, calm down,” you tell yourself. “Think things through.”

You begin to stand, pacing around the hotel room, the floorboards creaking below you. “The murder case— okay, honestly, this is definitely the Stellaron Hunters at work— is just right below the hotel I was staying at. When was this investigated, anyway?” you ask yourself.

Walking back to the laptop, you read the details. “The pictures were taken hours after the crime… and happened about a week ago. Six days ago, it seems.”

You worked it out in your head, pacing again, feeling like a rookie investigator years ago. “About a week ago, I was approaching the outskirts of this city then. I needed a place to stay, and the hotel was the only one in sight. I ended up booking it early… hold on.”

The only hotel in the area meant there was a lot of work to get a room, of course. The thing was…

You froze in your tracks. “I had booked a room here… seven days before I came.”

Pacing again, you think harder. “That means… the Stellaron Hunters murdered someone the day after I booked this damn hotel?”

Were you perhaps… being tracked down?

By the Stellaron Hunters, no less?

There was no way a crime would happen right in your area a day after you had booked the hotel unless somebody had tipped your whereabouts off. It was as if you had given your position away to the Stellaron Hunters. But how?

“This can’t be possible.”

Movement catches your eye out the window, and your attention diverts outside— it’s too dark to see anything, but there’s something outside.

No. Someone outside. Watching.

—

Y/n is here.

Y/n.

Y/n.

The man lets his face twist into a cruel smile, tracing a rough finger over a photo of a deserted hotel. Out of all the hotels that could have been chosen from, they chose this?

Whatever. Blade’s eyes narrow. That’s not any of his business. Kafka was right— the Xianzhou Investigation unit was becoming more of a nuisance than a source of information— although when did the investigation unit have information, anyway?

Blade treads purposefully down the streets, his gaze directed towards the hotel. One light’s on, and no doubt it’s Y/n.

Twisted excitement and anxiety churn in his stomach as he watches your silhouette walk through the room, pacing and talking. How cute. Still trying to figure things out, weren’t they?

The crime was done. Blade had zero doubt Y/n would connect the dots in a second. This was light work for the agent. Even the idea of being caught, and being interrogated by the agent sent a nervous streak through his spine.

But he was excited.

Being chased thrilled the criminal. He wanted his every face to be plastered on every wanted poster and every news article. Y/n would be forced to ingrain his face into their head. They’d have no choice.

As if Blade ever gave them a choice.

“Quit moping and move,” Silver Wolf’s voice rings in his earbud. Blade scowls, tapping on the device before spending another moment looking up at the window.

Y/n pauses, catching Blade’s movement out the window, and Blade’s eyes widen, a wicked smile curling his lips. Finally.

The agent presses their body against the window, but Blade is gone by then. It’s no use trying to find somebody at this time of day.

Y/n wanted to hunt him down? So be it.

There's nothing like a good chase, anyway.

[pianistbynight]

days 1-7 of a slow but meaningful summer

this is really the only part of traumerei that i can play sort of fluently...sort of, because you can still hear some hesitation as i try to remember the right notes 😅

thursday | 08/08/24

Started Leviathan Wakes

Tested out of U1 in Japanese and started U2 (loving its similarities to French cuz more familiarity = faster learning curve hopefully?🤞🏻)

Practiced piano...some old scales to warm up + the Clementi sonatina (coming back to it after a 2-3 day break was a good idea! somehow my steadiness has improved! also coming to appreciate metronome practice. sight-reading for the day = a few new bars on the 2nd page) + playing around with Kinderszenen (at this point I just wanted to hear different sounds and it wasn't very productive practice)

Read more of the HSP book

Most likely will have to revise my goals bc I don't think I can make decent progress in all the songs I wanted to in 4 weeks...like, to bring 1 L7 song to performance level after years of not performing anything + without a teacher will probably take longer than it used to. Not sure exactly what that looks like yet other than that it's definitely not gonna be all of Kinderszenen... 😂

friday | 08/09/24

practice wasn't very good today...i kept making silly mistakes i didn't used to make. i'm tired. that's why. i also forgot to do my japanese lesson. i didn't feel like reading either. i don't remember what else i did that day.

saturday | 08/10/24

drained of all energy. didn't practice. didn't do japanese. just chilled with @zzzzzestforlife for the most part and started reading what you are looking for is in the library on her recommendation. i love how philosophical japanese fiction is fjsjdkdks ☺️☺️☺️ (and more generally, i'm surprised that for a culture so new to me, a lot of their ways are just...second nature to my personality...it was very relieving. but i also feel that if i were to live in such a place full time, i would be staying too much in my comfort zone...i also don't know that i would want to ever live in Japan since there are also some important aspects about my current home that i'd miss terribly. all this to say, i'd like to visit Japan again at some point in my lifetime.)

sunday | 08/11/24

went to bed feeling very drained, frustrated, and homesick. so as you can imagine, i didn't get very good sleep. my bare minimum goals for today are:

japanese lesson

read zesty's book recs (there's the library book, the secret adversary [which she rec'd back to me after i rec'd it to her a couple months ago lol], and leviathan wakes) ✅

monday | 08/12/24

finally read the last of the clementi sonatina! got it to a "meh" level to polish in the next few days. super excited! played a few other pieces after that but i think i should focus on level 7 pieces for now before jumping into something barely readable but still playable. i should've brought some level 8 sheet music with me too...but i guess i can read from my laptop (god save my eyes if i do that lol 😵)

might put Kinderszenen back on the (mental music) shelf for now.

i also read more of what you are looking for is in the library and i just love how much there is to ponder about what was said. insightful fiction is my favorite fiction 💗

tuesday | 08/13/24

finished What You Are Looking For Is In The Library! it's such a good book. it's a short story collection but each story is in the same universe and while each story is independent (convienient for readers like me who like to take their time with books but sometimes take so much time that they forget what the story was lol), they're connected in ways that...you know that feeling when you bump into an old acquaintance in a completely foreign place you don't expect to meet anyone you know? that feeling is what i felt as i read chapter after chapter. it makes the vast world feel less lonely.

in the evening i tried to memorize and get the clementi sonatina up to speed. i guess i must be succeeding because my dad said it'd make mice dance lol. also played a bit of traumerei...trying to read more of it but progress is slower since i need to pay closer attention to which notes to hold and when to let go of them.

wednesday | 08/14/24

started reading sweet bean paste today (another japanese book... they're quickly becoming my favorite type of book.) i like it so far. there's potential for a lot of warmth and emotion in talking about food, which is just 🥰

also started "Databases: Modeling and Theory" on edx... 🙈 i'm auditing so i only have 2 weeks (until Aug. 28) to access the material (because the minimum amount of time needed to complete the course is 2 weeks gahhh). so i need to be halfway by Aug. 19. in theory i can do this if i put in 2h of work each day. it's too hot to play piano during the day, so i can do databases then and play piano at night. yes, i can do this. (i need to get my brain used to a faster, "left-brained" pace anyway in prep for school in september. 🙁)

continuing to polish the clementi sonatina and started reading this kuhlau sonatina which is pretty fun difficult. it's really just the left hand that makes it suck. haven't figured out how to move so that the staccatos are sharp despite the finger pedaling. i can do it slow, but not fast while staying quiet, so i must be doing something wrong. sometimes you just gotta sit on it, i guess.

[shizucheese]

Hey guys! It me, "The Magnus Institute is a part of not just the Eye but the Web" girl, here with some thoughts and a new theory for the consideration of the Red String Comity. Come step into a curated (for your safety and sanity) corner of my mind as I walk you through my thought process: First, some further evidence that the Web was tied to the Magnus Institute in TMA all along: in MAG193, it's mentioned that Elias doesn't remember ever sending his CV to the Magnus Institute. Web. In Mag056, when Martin confesses he lied on his CV, he mentions that "for some reason" his lie about parapsychology got him an interview with Elias. Now, I always assumed that this was because Elias/ Jonah knew his secret and the Eye likes secrets, but like...How did Martin know to apply there in the first place? Why was that the only place where he got an interview?

Now I'd like to bring your attention to the below sticker. I have this same sticker on my laptop because as someone on the Ace spectrum John and Martin's relationship is everything to me. For anyone who needs a refresher, the quote is something John says to Martin in S5. Obviously the teacup represents Martin. But let's talk about that thing coming out of the teacup, hm? The thing that's supposed to represent John? I've always tried to rationalize it as "lol it's just some kind if Eye creature, that's not a spider..." but guys....that's totally a spider, right?

Now here's why this is so huge: this isn't fanart someone turned into a sticker. This is a sticker from Rusty Quill's very own RedBubble shop.

It's official merch. Official merch "designed and sold by RustyQuill" represents John as a spider creature covered in eyes.

They've been telling us this the entire time guys! Now, I need to give @amanda-519 credit for setting my mind down this next path. These are the tags they used when they reblogged my previous post on this topic:

Now, this got me thinking about all of the Avatars we met in TMA and like....

We know from Mag 102 that the Corruption can manifest as unhealthy relationships, which I would argue would include infatuation and obsession.

And like....was Jude's infatuation with Agnes really all that different? It's what drew her into The Desolation in the first place, so could we not argue that she was a mix of the Desolation and the Corruption? (Like....the destructiveness of infatuation? Corruption leading to Desolation?) And like I've always assumed the reason why Oliver became an Avatar of the End is because of his association with Graham and what happened to him resulting in Oliver being touched by The End, but like...does that actually make sense? They were already broken up and he had 0 involvement with Graham being taken by the Not Them. But like Graham's circumstances are also kinda weblike, no? The Web includes the fear of being forced to do something against one's own will, and Graham went through some pretty extreme measures to try and escape his powers. And then his efforts to escape ultimately lead to the events that turned him into a full fledged Avatar. Was Graham also a part of the web? Or were the circumstances of him becoming an Avatar of the End basically the result of him being the Web's victim?

And the whole concept of the Unknowing is pretty weird, huh? Like...I can't be the only one that looks at what happens to people who get trapped in the Unknowing and thinks that it feels awfully "Spiral-like" right? (or, for that matter, that The Desolation has some elements of the Stranger to it).

John Amherst was an Avatar of The Corruption, but unlike Jane, whose main interest seemed to be spreading and expanding the Flesh Hive, Amherst's form of Corruption seemed awfully End-flavored. When we first meet him in TMA, it's at a Nursing home where his spread of infection results in the death of all of the residents. In Mag68, Tale of a Field Hospital, the accounts about Amherst are all about him dying and then showing up again; in the second story, the people who end up in the bed Amherst is supposed to be in keep dying; the statement giver who gave the book to the Institute dies a few days later after, having cut himself on the pages of the book. The illness he spreads in the town where he ultimately dies kills the victims horrifically. The bug he is most affiliated with are flies, which are known to flock to dead bodies and are therefore associated with death. Okay now after all of that word vomit, here's the epiphany that I had and the actual point of this post:

For some reason my mind kept straying back to Jude and her infatuation with Agnes and how that might have made her part of the Corruption, and the different ways the Corruption might have been involved in other ways, and then I remembered that theory going around that in TMP the Fears are becoming Obsessions. This theory never sat well with me because in TMA, all of the Avatars were obsessed with something. Most of them were obsessed with their Entity and bringing it into the world. Jude, as previously mentioned, was obsessed with Agnes. Simon was obsessed with the sky. Mike was obsessed with freeing himself of the Spiral manifestation that'd been tormenting him since childhood. Oliver was obsessed with running away from his powers and John was obsessed with finding out what the fuck was going on. There were also plenty of non-avatar characters that were obsessed; The guy in Mag90: Body Builder was obsessed with his body and making it look how he wanted to. The guy from Mag102 Nesting Instinct and his petite scarabée. I could go on.

And then it clicked: Obsession is a form of Corruption. We know that the Corruption can manifest as unhealthy love and companionship. But what is "unhealthy love" if not a form of obsession? Obsession sinks its teeth into you and takes over your life and can lead you to your own destruction. In other words, its corrupts you. Which is exactly what happens in pretty much all of the statements we've gotten so far in TMP. The Corruption is up to something. Idk what or why, but I think that in the same way the Web's influence was all over TMA if you know to look for it, the Corruption is all over TMP. Is it just a season 1 thing? Is it going to be the Big Player in the whole series? Are the Avatars (?) we've encountered so far--Ink5oul, The Merchant, Movie Theater Man-- part of the Corruption as well as the more obvious Entities they serve-- The Flesh, The End/ The Slaughter, The Eye--or are they only servants of those respective Entities and the Corruption is swooping in later and poisoning things?

[hiccupbutpurple]

Don't know if youre still taking asks for the WIP thing, but

-Half runaway AU - Vigcup ?

Damn this has been here for so long I’m so sorry it’s taken me this long! I will always take any excuse to talk about the random fics I have lol! I don’t have my laptop rn so I’m just gonna have to go off memory.

This is basically one of the fic ideas that I had cause of Vigcup week way back then before I got distracted with a bunch of other plot lines and whatnot, it’s also what lead me to writing one of my published wips which has kinda replaced it. I’m probably never gonna actually publish it cause the main fun elements if it I’m adding to that fic, so I’ll do a full rundown. (Also I’m fairly sure I was inspired by CantMakeMyMind on Ao3’s fic Dragon Soul).

- Hiccup is half living on Berk and half out exploring. He mainly just spends his time around the archipelago (trying to avoid the villages that would report him to Stoick) until he’s older because he was worried people would be suspicious of him leaving. After years of spending more and more time away, he realises he can just start leaving for days (using camping or something as an excuse if necessary but considering he’s not making trouble for Berk they aren’t too concerned).

- He goes out and discovers the hunters and he tries his best to avoid them until he is captured by Viggo. Hiccup is used to Vikings hunting dragons (also he hasn’t defeated the red death just yet so there’s still raids happening) but bonding happens after he gets captured. Viggo is actually willing to listen to him (basically the first human to do so) which endears him to Hiccup, likewise Viggo is impressed by his intelligence and they are more willing to try understanding each other. During this time Viggo also meets his Skrill and they bond, setting off the trend of Vikings having peace but it’s mich harder with the Queen still in control.

- As they work together more they start to fall for one another and soon Hiccup opens up about Berk. Viggo is constantly trying to get him to leave Berk and join them fully but Hiccup wants to protect the dragons and try and make peace. There’s some B plots with Gobber trying to work out what Hiccup is doing too since he’s suspicious of him, especially when he noticed Hiccup feeding the dragons extra fish and the dragons in the arena keep escaping.

- Hiccup is going in and out of Berk and the hunters, but after Stoick is nearly killed, Hiccup decides that he and Toothless should go and attack the nest. Hiccup never had the character growth he did in canon, or the connections, so I feel like his immaturity and lacking impulse control is heightened (more then it already is at least). It’s also a bit of a breaking point considering how stressful secrets are, the war, meeting new people and his unresolved trauma.

- At the same time, Viggo decides that if Hiccup won’t give up on Berk fully, he’ll basically call out Berk for its treatment of Hiccup himself and solve the war (and maybe make the relationship a definite thing in the process). He arrives after Hiccup leaves and everyone on Berk is like ‘who the hell is this, why the hell is there a fricken Skrill, and why does he want Hiccup.’ That’s when they realise Hiccup is gone again. After noticing the burns on Stoick, and finding Hiccups normal travelling bag still in the forge, and some helpful tips from Gobber, he puts the pieces together and flies off to save Hiccup.

- They get to the nest (which he and Hiccup has discussed on a few occasions) and finds a downed Hiccup and Toothless near the Red Death’s body. Toothless is awake and shows him Hiccup with a half bitten off leg. Viggo then does the amputation and cares for him back at his headquarters. (This was one of the main plots for one of my og Day One Vigcup week fic lol)

- Everyone on Berk is left to wonder what happened for weeks, some thinking it was a trick (traveling Viggo = Odin) or Hiccup being kidnapped or something, (Stoick is having a nervous breakdown) until Hiccup finally returns. Explanations are given, vigcup kisses are shared and after teaching them a little more about dragons, Hiccup’s work is done and he decides to join Viggo to travel, help the hunters make money without hunting, and be in love. Gobber still lives under the belief that Viggo is Odin, the eyepatch doesn’t help.

[kanmom51]

JK live 5 August 1:41 am KST

Part 2

*cr./To the creators of the media used in this post.

For those who missed out on part 1:

Before I start with part 2, brace yourselves. This one is packed with clips that are a MUST to see. Seriously. This was such a long live but it was so enjoyable because of JK's hyper mood at start and his adorable quirkiness throughout the whole live. It was a pleasure to watch and this post has a few lovely moments from the second half of the live. My suggestion is do take your time and watch the clips. I can assure you, you will not regret it.

Did we call part 2 Makguksu blues?

We sure did.

And this, my friends, is why.

JK, right through the second half of this live, is dreaming of eating his dish. Stopping from some music at times, or singing, or pondering, but mainly dreaming of eating. Man is hungry. Stomach growling hungry.

So, at the point we left him he's telling us again that he wants to eat.

And he's really struggling. So much so he's imagining himself making the dish.

First hour obsessing over messing up at the concert.

Next hour (well overlapping too) contemplating and obsessing over making himself something to eat.

Tries to move on with music, going to the bathroom and to refill his drink.

Talking/singing in the background. - a JK usual.

When he comes back he seems a little pensive again.  Nodding head once in a while.

Opens up one of his Spotify gifts – the mic he got, trying to figure out how to connect it.  He puts it away to charge a little.

WE have a few relatively quiet minutes. He’s thinking, not talking.  Music playing, he’s on his laptop, mood kind of feels like it’s a little heavier than before, even if before he was hard on himself most of it was vocal and done with a smile.  Now he becomes more pensive.

Singing to Malibu nights by Lany.  He knows the lyrics off by heart!!

So, remember this?

And this?

And quite the coincidence... song playing at 1:18 hr. of the live. Now that WAS a coincidence. But funny how the universe seems to always align for them, eh?

He asks us if we know a playlist called Life sucks. 

Malibu nights is on that playlist as well.

Definitely in a mood.

It could also be the adrenaline rush just winding down as well... Probably the combination of both.

Convinced himself to eat later in the day (says tomorrow, but it is already tomorrow, lol).

After a few minutes he’s back to reading comments, reads a comment asking for him to play Winter bear, he’s looking for it and then plays it.

And he starts to interact with the comments again.  Someone tells him their grandmother said he’s so beautiful and he smiles and says thank you, bowing as well.

Asks if he should watch some covers of Seven – good decision to lighten his mood.

So now he’s vibing to Seven. 

And he starts adlibbing – his fave thing to do and something he’s great at (mostly) – and it's about the concert again, lol.

So yeah, still not over it.  Lol.

Ok, and he does this:

Ahhhha, literally.🤣🤣

Doing the Seven cover is good for him. It does lift his mood slightly.

JK again looking at comments around 10 minutes in to listening to seven, and of course,

What in the actual fuck? Again bloody Ian in the comments. And again JK, not amused saying:

JK is literally like :

And with these fans you know:

Goes back to the music. 

Back to the adlibbing for food. Man is damn hungry.

And he's back to the comments.  Asked if he likes cupcakes, says he doesn’t really eat them much, but he tries to say it in English. 

You can see he is really trying with the English. Making the effort!

Comment: Would you like to collaborate with latino artist?

JK: Idk. Didn’t think about it (answers in English again).

JK: Should I go to sleep, I want to go to sleep now.  But then he tells us that if he ends the live now he’ll go make himself makguksu and that’s why he isn’t turning the live off, lol.

I want to eat makguksu so much, giggling.  That’s why he isn’t ending the live.

And did he just say DAYMN?  Like with the accent and all? Lol.

And now telling this to us in English. Because this is the vital piece of information that EVERYONE needs to know. HE WANTS TO EAT MAKGUKSU!!!

Ok, so this is hilarious.  He says, in English I’m HANGRY.  I’m assuming he meant hungry, and that was the translation, but could he have actually meant hangry?  Lol. I mean, with the level of frustration being so DAYMN ravenous, perhaps he is already HANGRY. LMAO.

Ok, so as I was writing these lines, well more like half an hour after (but who's counting?), RM had his live and among other very interesting things he shared with us, he happened to drop this little tidbit:

Is Joon telling us he's the one giving JK English lessons?

I mean, it would make perfect sense.

And explain JK's use of slang words rather than a cleaner English. Words like cause and daymn and hangry.

And if we are already on the subject, do we remember who was also getting English lessons at the surprisingly and very coincidental time as JK?

Let me jog your memory.

A certain someone who happens to live in the same complex that Joon lives in. A certain someone that told us he's getting lessons in English as well. At night. Kind of when JK was getting his. Ooh, coincidences galore.

I wonder if they all sit together in JM's lounge drinking and trying to have conversations in English. Or perhaps drinking and watching Friends without the translations.

Guess it's time to move on...

Next he listens/watches to Boynextdoor cover of seven.

Thinks they are cute and then shows us the signed album he received from them. See? That shelf was his signed debut albums.

He wants to go eat makguksu, again, he needs to go, he is a real soldier hanging on not giving in.

At this point, around the 2 hour mark he’s really had enough, he wants to end the live (has been wanting to end the live for several minutes already), go wash up, but then says he’ll listen to another couple covers.

He tells us he likes the covers that also rearrange the track.

JK: I want to go eat, but I really can’t eat. 

So for the next 20 minutes it’s all about he has to go to sleep and we have to go to sleep, but then he needs to sing with the spotify mic.

Ok, so his reaction with this mic was bloody hilarious. He kept getting a fright from it, and his reactions priceless.

First when turning it on.

🤣

Now that he has the mic it’s like he gets a new wind and he starts another round of karaoke.

He wants to seeing a calm song.  Easy song.

Enjoys making gluk gluk sounds with the mic. Asmr, he loves it, lol.

Sings All of my life – a song he is already familiar with.  He sings it karaoke, quite differently than his cover 5 years ago. 

But before, he needs to go find the lyrics.

This song meant a lot to him back in 2018.  I feel like it’s still emotional, but much has happened since, water under the bridge.  He even sings the last verse, the one about the breakup. The one he made sure not to sing back then. 

He shares with us that he had issue hearing the key (in the song) and that his ears are off since catching the cold.

He then sings Sofa, brings the speaker up closer to hear it better. 

Watch the clip!! This time JK gets a fright from the speaker. His reactions. He is absolutely adorable. Precious.

We are adlibbing again.

And then it’s really time to end.

It’s just “it’s really time to sleep now.”  “bye” and he’s off.  Well, not before he once again has a jump scare from his mic.

And then good night and good morning and bye and he’s gone.

Can’t help wonder if he gave in and went to make himself to eat or went to bed, lol.

So, there we have it,

Almost 2 and a half hour live.

First half – upset about messing up at the concert.

Second half – I want to eat makguksu.

Lots of adlibbing, all about messing up at the concert and wanting to eat makguksu.

That's pretty much it.

Oh, and how could I forget?

I’m done gaming, noo more gaming, no more gaming room, I dismantled it all, and not even doing the live in that room to make sure you understand I am no longer gaming. PERIOT.

Wait, you think that's the end of it?

Hell no.

After JK turned off his Weverse live, the man, who told us he's going to bed, was suddenly curious and decided to go live on TikTok. Again.

This bellow being a link to his first live a couple days back:

And now, after disabling the gift option (and making a point of telling us so in this last live):

Yep, now I'm done!

Woohoo!!!

All up to date on JK's lives.

I'm ready for more lives JK.... Bring them on...

[lieblingspulli]

Night Routines: SKZ

W.c: 1.9k

Changbin x Reader

Summary: Soft Changbin hours. Lots of cuddles, night routine and the likes. 

A/n: Just a quick little work I did to get my brain juices flowing. I imagine that when I write my brain feels like those clear looking PCs that have tubes with cool looking lava lamp liquid and a fan. I hope you know what I’m talking about LOL. Based on some prompts: “Do you think it would be helpful if we were cuddling?” and “Look at me in the eyes right now and tell me what time you went to bed last night, or if you even went to bed.” Enjoy this sweet and short piece!

Masterlist!

SKZ Masterlist

P.s. I just noticed all my Changbin pieces are about him coming home to you, don’t know why but he’s just such a homey person? Idk. 

Usually, whenever Changbin got home from the studio, you were either making dinner or showering to get ready for bed. Usually. 

Most days, you got home earlier than he did, owing to you being a college student and he, a performer and songwriter. Changbin tried not to make it too late, he knew he had to keep work boundaries, but sometimes he did run a little later than usual. 

The routine was always as follows. You usually got home, got some work done and tried to finish before Changbin got off of work. While he rushed home, you made dinner or showered then made dinner with Changbin. Succeeding this, the two of you did dishes, a minor tidy up of the apartment and then your night routine of washing up and bed cuddles. Most nights, this took you up until almost 10:30 on a good day and past 11 on a bad one. 

Changbin was used to this. He loved the structure. He could run to the gym after work if you had a heavy workload that week, or he could come home and relax with you on evenings which should have been this evening. 

The time read 10:46pm. You were only on page 6 out of 10 and really wanted to rip your hair out for not doing this earlier, but you also had a lab report to write up earlier instead. It wasn’t the latest time ever, but you had been working all day and you felt like a zombie on its feet. Every once in a while, the soft lighting and ambience from your music would lull you to sleep before you snapped your eyes open again. The unfortunate event of Changbin coming home did not snap you out of your constant battle between filling in your outline and trying to stay awake. 

As soon as Changbin entered the apartment, he could hear keyboard keys clicking. There was faint music coming from the bedroom, the living room lights were off and it was oddly silent, even though he could hear the music. Right away, Changbin felt a frown form on his face. 

“Jagiya? You home?” Changbin called out, hoping you would come out and say sorry for not greeting him right away. No response. He could only hear the psychological echoes of his voice. 

Changbin threw his bag down and took off his shoes in the doorway before heading to the bedroom right away. He swung open the door to find you hunched at your desk, completely focused on the screen in front of you. Or, at least that’s what he assumed. You laptop was open to a document, with the extra monitor opened on youtube. However, the youtube video displayed the “are you still watching?” sign. Changbin stood there for a few seconds, waiting to see if you were actually awake, but to no avail. He shuffled forward in hopes the noise might startle you, but it didn’t. 

Hm. He walked over and peeked over your shoulder. You were hunched forward, leaning your cheek on your wrist. Your eyes were closed and your eyebrows scrunched together. You must have fallen asleep while writing. Changbin smiled, mildly entertained by the scene in front of him. He also didn’t want to scare you awake, so he lightly tapped your shoulder and whispered, “Y/n? Baby?” You stirred but didn’t open your eyes. Changbin held his breath. He then poked your cheek. You startled awake. 

“Wha- Was I asleep? Oh. Hi baby.” You mumbled and rubbed your eyes open to see your boyfriend standing right by your side. He cheekily grinned and motioned towards the monitor with his head. 

“What are you working on that has you falling asleep on your desk?” He chuckled and squeezed your shoulder as you readjusted in your seat. 

“Oh, this is my research paper. I gotta get it done by tomorrow.” 

Changbin nodded and gave a little, “Ah.” You nodded and tried to attempt to see where you left off before you fell asleep. Changbin looked at your face and studied how tired you looked. He had walked into a similar scene yesterday and fell asleep to it too. 

“Babe, no offense, but how long has it been since you slept?” He carefully said. You turned your head to answer but kept your eyes on the screen. You non-committedly replied, “I took a nap earlier.” This reply irritated Changbin. He didn’t like when you didn’t rest enough, it only led to worse things for your body. The odd silence in the apartment further irritated him and led Changbin to drag your chair away from the desk, with you in it. This solicited a “Hey, I was working!” from you, but he just shook his head and firmly turned you towards him. He kneeled in front of you and settled his hands on your thighs. You frowned at him, but couldn’t stay mad at his soft looking face. You huffed in annoyance. 

Changbin thought for a bit before asking again. 

“Babe. Y/n. Look at me in the eyes right now and tell me what time you went to bed last night, if you even went to bed at all.” He taunted you with his eyes. You rolled your eyes and tried to look at him in his eyes. You shifted uncomfortably under his gaze. He raised his eyebrows, expecting an answer. 

“3.” 

“Okay. What time did you wake up to finish that lab report? I know you didn’t finish it.” 

Your boyfriend sure was cheeky sometimes. You blew some hair out of your face in annoyance. 

“7.” 

“Oh my gosh, Y/n-” He groaned and let his head drop to touch your knees. You kind of felt bad for worrying him so you hurriedly tried to defend yourself. 

“Hey, Look, it’s not that bad. At least I got some sleep.” You sucked at this. He looked back up to you and rubbed his own tired eyes. “Babe. I just came home to you asleep at your desk. My yelling didn’t even wake you up. You can barely keep your eyes open.” He pointed out. You didn’t know what to say. He sighed and hopped back up to stand. 

“Fine. If you won’t sleep, then I’ll make you go to sleep.” He said with a firm nod, proud of himself for taking some initiative. You started to protest but Changbin just leaned forward and pulled you over his shoulder, eliciting a shriek. 

“Seo Changbin! What are you doing!” 

“Baby, this is for your own good. I’m taking care of my baby, that’s what I’m doing.” He said and you could only prop yourself up on his back. He carried you to the bathroom before setting you down. 

“Why are we here?” You puffed in annoyance. 

Changbin just started getting out your face wash and other things related to your night routine. As soon as he set everything down in front of you he motioned to the mini display and crossed his arms. 

“We are doing our night routine. Like we always do.” He just stood and waited. You scoffed and began to brush your teeth, occasionally looking back at your boyfriend. He really just waited until you started until he began to do it himself. While you two were brushing your teeth, he even tried to smile at you with his toothbrush in his mouth. Unfortunately a bunch of toothpaste foam fell out of his mouth and you laughed at him, almost choking on your own spit. The both of you giggled like kids as you moved on to face wash. 

Changbin insisted on doing this step for you, so you let him put your face wash on your face (with clean hands of course!) and rub it in circles. He put a little too much pressure though, and he was moving your whole face in circles. 

“Changbin!” You laughed and he smiled at the sight of you finally smiling for once. Man, he loved you so much. 

“What?” 

“You’re moving my entire face!” 

“Yah, stop talking unless you want bubbles in your mouth.” He lessened his firmness and continued to emulsify the soap on your face until you tried to pull away. 

“Hey, I’m not done!” He scolded you. 

“Baby, it’s been 60 seconds. We’re done.” You laughed and proceeded to help him do his face. He sat patiently while you spread his face wash on his cheeks, forehead, chin and nose. You also gave him a forehead massage. He sighed and melted in your hands. Entirely focused, you moved on to his cheeks and then his nose. He stood as still as possible. 

After you tapped his cheek, signaling your task was complete, you both rinsed your face and did the rest of your routine together. After that, you climbed into bed as he changed into his sleeping shorts. 

“Yah, what are you staring at?” Changbin feigned to act all shy. You laughed and stared at his shoulders. 

“Oh, I’m just admiring all the hard work my boyfriend puts in at the gym.” You snickered and pulled the blanket over you as Changbin picked up the pillow from the edge of the bed to throw at you. You both giggled. 

Changbin climbed in as you let the cover fall from your face. He snuggled up close to you and you wrapped your arms around his torso as he fit himself into the shape of your body. 

“Baby, I don’t know if I’m tired anymore.” You whispered just as he began to close his eyes. He snapped them open. 

“What?” Changbin pouted. 

You laughed. “I can’t stop thinking about my assignments.” 

“Ah, would it help if I cuddled you how you like?” He pleaded with his doe eyes. 

You nodded and made a sad face. He scrunched his nose in reply. 

“Whatever makes my baby sleep better at night.” He then turned to flip off the lights and readjust you so you were the smaller spoon facing him. 

“This better?” 

“Mmm, yeah.” You sighed and relaxed in his arms. 

“You’re so warm.” You whispered. He rubbed your back to lull you back into a tired state. 

“Go to sleep baby. I’ll be right here to hold you all night.” He whispered back and kissed your head. You were too tired to reply, and before you knew it, his body warmth had lulled you to sleep. You didn’t even get to kiss him goodnight. 

Changbin watched your eyes close and he could feel your breath even out, signaling you fell asleep. He watched your eyelashes flutter as you went off to dreamland. 

“I love you Y/n.” He whispered before relaxing more himself and settling into a deep sleep for himself. 

[wolfvmin]

blipped: family line (3)

title: family line pairing: brother’s best friend!yoongi x female reader genre: major angst !!, fluff, brother’s best friend au, unrequited love, set in the marvel cinematic universe (mcu), slow burn?, implied age gap, heavy themes,brother!namjoon, bestfriend!taehyung warnings: mentions of character death disclaimer: you can read this without knowing anything marvel at all. word count: 2.3k

At the age of 21, you confessed your feelings to your brother’s best friend, Yoongi, which he rejected. One day later, Thanos snapped, turning fifty percent of the world population to dust, leaving the other half lost, confused, and mourning–including you. Five years later, Bruce Banner snapped everyone back to life, including Yoongi, who doesn’t really know you anymore.

a/n: this is so short i'm sorry lol. i promise the next chapter would be longer and less angsty (maybe even steamy). index part 2 > part 4

Before you knew it, Yoongi and Namjoon acted as they had adjusted to the changes that were thrust into their lives. Well, they had to, anyway. 

It was hard getting a job with half of the population being back; job openings were closing left and right. Thankfully, Joon was re-offered his position in the company he worked at because of his friendly relationship with his boss pre-blip. Yoongi, on the other hand, managed to land a job with a salary not on the same level as the one he had before. But who was he to complain? Everyone was scrambling to adjust to the amount of population once again. So many were struggling to the point that some people were saying that the Avengers were wrong to have brought back the people who blipped, that they have just made things just as hard as five years ago. 

Was it worth it to reopen the wound of 5 years?

Yoongi reads the online post on the laptop on your desk. Surely, he thought, it wasn’t an easy task to accept that people who one mourned for 5 years suddenly came back into their life. Hell, it’s trauma that one does not know if it will heal. His curiosity kills him… but he can’t get himself to ask what the hell you’ve been through when they were gone. He was certain that Namjoon feels the same way. 

They’ve been trying to act carefully around you as if they were never gone. Lately, it felt like a never-ending roleplay–like there was a time bomb in the room that was just waiting to explode.

Yoongi traced his fingers over the box in his hand. It’s small faux leathered and not bigger than his hand. The very same box that you owned for five years. To you, this was old news. But to him, he had just bought it a few months ago. 

He found it in your desk drawer. He knows it’s bad to snoop around but he couldn’t help it when he saw it hidden beneath your stationery things. It was the only thing that looked from the past. Nothing in this apartment except for the picture frame that stood in your living room was a reminder of the time you used to have. But as he looked at the necklace inside the box, he remembers the way you looked, the way you moved, the way you smiled, and the way your eyes sparkled when you looked at him.

It was so different now. 

It’s as if you were cautious of every step you take. You don’t laugh as much as you used to. The only time he hears you sound actually happy is when you speak with your coworkers over the phone. 

He tries to get back to the way it was. Before he got a job, he offered to give you rides to your work which you refused because your neighbor and coworker, Jeon Jungkook, gives you rides to work and back home. 

Jeon Jungkook, Yoongi learned, has been friends with you for two years now. What he also learned, is that the fucker was with you almost 24/7 of every day of every week. He doesn’t know why but the kid itches something in him. 

Not that he would let anyone know that. 

Looking back at the necklace, he wonders if you wore it or just kept it inside the box for all the years that went by. He hopes that you cherished it somehow. 

What happened to you while we were gone, Y/N?

He sighs and gently puts back the jewelry box where he found it, careful not to make it look like it was moved. 

He looks at the time on his wristwatch. You should be home soon. He should get ready. 

An hour later, you arrived back home. 

You had a bouquet of chrysanthemum flowers in your hand when you entered the apartment. Yoongi was on the couch sitting beside his friend. He could feel the worries and nerves of his friend from where he sat and he understands why. 

A few days ago, you decided to tell them that you would be taking them to see your mom. Namjoon didn’t like the idea at first. But you convinced him anyway, promising your brother that it won’t be a mess like before. Namjoon finally agreed at the end of the dinner when you wouldn’t take no for an answer. 

Time has changed probably everything except for him and Namjoon.

“You guys ready?” You ask them and take your keys from where it usually is. Yoongi and Namjoon take a glance at each other and nod at you.

They were still confused as to why you wanted them to see her but they thought it wouldn’t be bad to let her see them considering it’s been five years. The confusion on his and Namjoon’s faces were hard to hide when instead of taking a turn to the familiar neighborhood, you headed in a different direction. 

No questions were asked nor words were said when you drove into the memorial park. Suddenly, the bouquet of flowers you had in your car made sense. 

Yoongi fixes the collar of his recently ironed buttoned-up white shirt when he steps out of your car. 

The three of you walk quietly as you led the way, sun dress flowing due to the wind. Namjoon walks behind you while Yoongi trails behind the two of you. He worries for his best friend who he now watches walking aimlessly. 

You stopped in front of a grave. Your mother’s name is written on the stone. 

You bend your knees to drop the flowers by the grave and you look at both of them. 

“She died not long after the blip.” You finally talk and look over at Namjoon who was still lost for words. “Her vices finally caught up with her. She was bedridden for months and then one night, she had a heart attack.” 

Namjoon takes in your words quietly in front of the grave as if he couldn’t believe the name written there.

“I’ll give you a moment.” You say to Namjoon who was just staring darkly at the grave below him. 

You give Yoongi a look which he understands in a second. He gives Namjoon a pat on his shoulder before following you to the side. 

The two of you walked until you were meters away from Namjoon. Yoongi watches as his best friend is now kneeling by the grave, eyes still lifeless. 

Grief. It’s such a funny thing. 

His heart breaks for whatever his best friend is feeling. He wishes better for him and you. He wishes this fucked up thing hadn’t happened. He wishes that the three of you lived in a different universe where there were no superheroes, no aliens attempting to take their planet, or no cities destroyed left and right just because there was some fucker who wanted revenge on some trauma. 

Because while all of that was happening, their problems seem so mundane and small.

But it’s there. 

And it hurts. 

It hurts that Namjoon had to miss his mother’s death. It hurts that just a month ago, he was watching the same person screaming at you and Namjoon.

Even if Namjoon feels regret or maybe even glad she’s gone, he didn’t deserve it. Not like this. If it were he who was being asked what he was feeling, he would say he was sad. Not because he grieves your mother’s death but because of you. You were left alone. To be frank, he’s a bit upset at your mother even if she’s not at fault. Just when you needed her, she disappears again and escapes her responsibilities. 

He looks over at you, seeing no tears fall from your eyes. He could see you were sad but unlike the Y/N he knew before, you stood strong on your ground. 

“Don’t look at me like that.” You speak without looking at Yoongi.

“Like what?” He asks, crossing his arms to warm himself from the cold wind. 

You finally look over, giving him a small smile. “Like you pity me.” You pause. “I’m glad she’s dead. That way she can’t fuck us over anymore.”

Yoongi takes in how you look. The way your eyes look weak but dark. The way you weakly smile despite how you appear to look fine. He still sees the twenty-one-year-old he cherishes in you. She’s in there somewhere. He would just have to accept that you’ve changed. 

You were alone all this time. You had no brother and no mother to be with you. Whatever happened, Yoongi thanks the heavens that you’re still here, standing in front of him and looking so beautiful. You were strong like he always believed you are. 

Yoongi doesn’t answer this time and looks back at his best friend and then at the grave he was staring at.  

Maybe it’s time to visit his parents.

Yoongi loves his parents. They were good people. But his relationship with them is not the best. He loved them and they loved him but he often feels distant from them. When he comes home, he would often just hear his mother’s nagging voice and his father wasn’t someone who showed his emotions. He just… never felt liked by them. 

For the past few months, he has only communicated with them by phone, telling them he should pick himself up first before leaving Seoul. It was an excuse to not visit them. He knows that he’s selfish by doing this. They have been waiting for years for him. 

But he was scared. 

If you, the person he has been spending years with, have changed so much, what would the blip make his parents be? He couldn’t stomach it. He couldn’t face it. Were they sad? Were they relieved? What struggles did they face during the economic collapse during the blip? Did his parents still love each other? Did they mourn him? 

As he stood there, a little bit sweating because of the nerves, the front door opens. 

The sight in front of him makes him freeze. 

He could barely recognize his own father. And it wasn’t because of his mostly grey hair or the added wrinkles on his face. It was the tears that were falling down his face and how he was basically tripping on his feet to get to him. 

His father’s arm wraps around his figure, squeezing him so tight it felt like he would crush his lungs. He pats his back anyway, eyes drifting to his mother who’s now crying with clasped hands on her face. 

“You’re home, son.” His voice was just as he remembered. It was not as authoritative as it was. It’s a little bit gentle now–a little bit tired. 

“Hey, dad.” He pats his father’s curved back. Over the phone, his mother told him how his father was still working his office job. 

When he lets go, it was his mother’s turn to tackle him in a hug and smother him in kisses. 

“Honey, you said you wouldn’t cry.” His father teases his mom who then glared at her husband. 

As his mother lets go, he was immediately smacked on the arm, to which his father yelped at. Then, she shifted to Yoongi, who also received a smack. 

“And you, why would you not go home?! I almost went to Seoul myself if only I haven’t been stopped by your father!” 

And Yoongi grins, giving them a heartily laugh while rubbing his arm. 

In his mind, he hasn’t been away for years but in his heart, he did miss them. 

After the emotional reunion, Yoongi finds himself sitting at the dining table with a feast of his favorite meals in front of him. 

“So,” Yoongi clears his throat. “How have you been?” Yoongi asks his parents as he digs into the food. 

His mother stares at his father beside her and places her hand on top of his. “It was hard at first. We were really down to a spiral but we managed.” 

“You don’t have to worry about us, son.” Yoongi’s father assured him. 

Throughout the meal, his parents updated him on what happened in the 5 years he was gone. They updated him on stories of his relatives and whatnot. Surprisingly, Yoongi had a good time. He doesn’t think he had this much of a good time with his parents even before the blip happened. He found himself laughing at their stories and jokes, which rarely happened before. 

They let him take some of his old things, shocked that they haven’t thrown them out yet. The next morning, he loads them in your car that you had let him borrow with the help of his father. 

“You’re staying at Y/N’s, right?” His father asks as Yoongi puts down the box he was carrying in the trunk beside the one his father was previously holding. 

“Yeah.” He answers, closing the trunk with a thud. “It’s just temporary though. I’ll move out when I find an apartment.” 

Yoongi mentioned you a few times back then and he was sure that his parents only knew you as Namjoon’s brother. Sure, they knew your name but there was something with the way your name rolled off his father’s tongue that seemed too comfortable and too familiar. 

“Hm.” His father pats the closed trunk. “Well, you have a safe drive back.”

“Of course, dad. You guys take care of yourselves, yeah?” 

“Yoongi! Take these with you.” His mother was running out of the door, holding a large insulated lunch bag and handing it to him. 

“Side dishes?” Yoongi assumed. “You didn’t have to, mom.” 

His mother slaps his arm repeatedly as if he offended her. “Shush. They’re not for you. They’re for Y/N. Tell her to eat a lot and to take care, okay? And Namjoon too.” 

And Namjoon “too”? When did you become the first Kim to come to their minds?

Ah. It must be because he was practically living off of you right now. 

“Oh. I will. Yeah.” Yoongi nods, “Thanks.” 

His mom doesn’t hide her excitement. “Okay, drive safe!”

With a few questions unanswered in his mind, he drives his way back to you.

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