#it was fun being like wait I recognize that style

[ereborne]

Song of the Day: May 1

"Wicked Old Witch" by John Fogerty

[a-lexia11]

Twins

Alessia russo x reader

Words count: around 2k

Warning:none

Summary : You and your twin sister Valentina play a prank on your girlfriend, Alessia, by switching places to see if Alessia can tell you apart.

As I stood in front of the mirror, adjusting my shirt, I couldn’t help but smile at the reflection of my twin sister, Valentina, lounging on my bed, scrolling through her phone. It was a typical Saturday morning, the kind where everything felt calm, relaxed, and just a little bit mischievous.

Valentina and I had always been close, and our bond as twins often led to playful antics and pranks that kept our lives interesting.

“You know, Y/N,” Valentina suddenly said, her voice laced with amusement, “I’ve been thinking… Do you really think Alessia would be able to tell the difference between us?”

I turned away from the mirror to look at her, raising an eyebrow. “Of course she would. We’ve been dating for two years now. She knows me better than anyone.”

Valentina smirked, clearly not convinced. “Are you sure? I mean, we are identical twins. We’ve fooled plenty of people before.”

I rolled my eyes, laughing. “Maybe other people, but not Alessia. She’d definitely recognize me.”

Valentina sat up, a gleam of mischief in her eyes. “How about we put that to the test? Let’s see if Alessia can really tell us apart.”

I crossed my arms, intrigued. “And how do you propose we do that?”

She grinned, already formulating a plan. “We’ll switch places, just for fun. I’ll pretend to be you, and you can hang back and watch. Let’s see how long it takes for her to figure it out.”

I hesitated for a moment, but the idea of playing a harmless prank on Alessia was too tempting to resist. “Alright, you’re on. But I’m telling you, she’ll know right away.”

Valentina chuckled. “We’ll see about that.”

***

Later that afternoon, Valentina and I put our plan into action. Alessia was due to come over to my apartment around 2 p.m , so we had some time to prepare. We decided to keep things simple, Valentina would dress like me, act like me, and see how Alessia reacted.

Meanwhile, I would hide in my room, listening in on the whole interaction. It was going to be a harmless bit of fun, or so I thought.

By the time 2 p.m. rolled around, Valentina was dressed in one of my favorite hoodies (Alessia’s hoodies) and jeans, her hair styled just like mine. If I didn’t know any better, I would have sworn I was looking at a mirror.

“You ready?” I asked, trying to suppress a grin.

Valentina nodded, confidently striding toward the living room. “Ready as ever. Let’s see if your girlfriend is as perceptive as you think.”

I ducked into my bedroom, leaving the door slightly ajar so I could hear everything that happened.

My heart raced with excitement, eager to see how Alessia would react. Surely, she’d figure it out right away—there was no way she wouldn’t recognize her own girlfriend.

A few minutes later, I heard the sound of the front door unlocking, followed by Alessia’s familiar voice calling out, “Y/N? I’m here!”

Valentina, in her best impersonation of me, responded, “Hey, baby! I’m in the living room!”

I held my breath as I listened to Alessia’s footsteps approaching. My mind was already racing, imagining the moment Alessia would stop, tilt her head in confusion, and say, “Wait a minute… you’re not Y/N!”

But that moment never came.

Instead, I heard Alessia greet “me” with a cheerful, “Hey, my love!” followed by the unmistakable sound of a kiss on the cheek.

What?! I nearly gasped out loud but managed to keep quiet. Alessia didn’t notice anything off? How could that be possible?

Maybe she was just being polite, giving Valentina the benefit of the doubt for a few seconds before figuring it out. That had to be it.

But then, to my utter disbelief, I heard Alessia settle onto the couch with Valentina, chatting casually as if nothing was amiss.

They talked about the usual things—how Alessia’s day had been, what movie they should watch tonight, and even made plans for dinner. All the while, Alessia didn’t show a single hint of suspicion.

I paced around my bedroom, growing more anxious with each passing minute. How could Alessia not recognize that it was Valentina sitting beside her and not me? I mean, sure, we looked alike, but Alessia knew me inside and out.

She knew my habits, my quirks, the little details that made me, well, me. Was it possible that Valentina was actually pulling this off?

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, I couldn’t take it anymore. I had to know if Alessia had really been fooled or if she was just playing along.

I quietly stepped out of my bedroom and into the hallway, peeking into the living room where Valentina and Alessia were sitting.

To my shock, they were still chatting and laughing as if nothing was wrong. Alessia seemed completely at ease, her arm casually draped over Valentina’s shoulders. It was surreal watching my girlfriend interact so comfortably with my twin, as if I didn’t even exist.

Then, just as I was about to step back into the bedroom, Alessia did something that made my heart skip a beat.

She gently cupped Valentina’s cheek and leaned in, seemingly aiming for a kiss on the lips. Valentina’s eyes widened in shock, and she swiftly turned her head, causing Alessia’s lips to land unexpectedly on Valentina’s cheek instead.

I froze, stunned. Was Alessia genuinely fooled?

Unable to stay hidden any longer, I stepped into the living room, trying to keep my voice steady. “Hey, what’s going on here?”

Both Alessia and Valentina turned to look at me, and for a split second, Alessia’s eyes widened in surprise. But then, to my utter confusion, she burst out laughing.

“Oh, you should have seen your face!” Alessia exclaimed, her laughter filling the room. “You actually thought I didn’t recognize Valentina?”

Wait. What?

I blinked, completely thrown off by her response. “You… you knew?”

Alessia grinned, her eyes twinkling with amusement. “Of course I knew. The moment I walked in, I could tell it wasn’t you. You might look alike, but you don’t feel the same.”

I stared at her, speechless, as Valentina broke into a fit of giggles beside her. “You mean… this was all a joke?”

Alessia nodded, still chuckling. “Yeah, I figured you two were up to something, so I decided to play along. I wanted to see how far you’d take it.”

I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. All this time, I had been the one getting pranked. I stood there for a moment, processing everything before I finally burst into laughter myself.

The whole situation was so absurd, and yet, it was exactly the kind of thing that made me love Alessia even more.

“You got us good,” I admitted, shaking my head in disbelief. “I really thought you couldn’t tell us apart.”

Alessia stood up and crossed the room to pull me into a warm hug. “Are you kidding? I’d know you anywhere, Y/N.”

Her words sent a wave of relief and warmth through me, and I couldn’t help but smile as I wrapped my arms around her. “You really had me going there for a minute.”

She pressed a soft kiss to my forehead, her voice filled with affection. “I’m sorry if I worried you. But come on, did you really think I wouldn’t recognize the love of my life?”

I looked up at her, feeling a mix of love and embarrassment. “I guess I underestimated you.”

Alessia and I both laughed, and I felt the tension from earlier melt away completely.

“Alright, you two troublemakers,” Alessia said, grinning at us. “What do you say we call it even and just enjoy the rest of the day?”

“Deal,” I said with a smile and Alessia leaning down to kiss me gently on the lips. It was a sweet, lingering kiss that made my heart swell with happiness.

Valentina pretended to gag at our display of affection, but I could see the smile tugging at her lips. “Okay, lovebirds, let’s just watch a movie already.”

We all settled onto the couch, this time with me firmly in Alessia’s arms, feeling content and more in love than ever.

The prank may not have gone exactly as planned, but in the end, it had only reminded me of how well Alessia knew me and how lucky I was to have her.

As we watched the movie, I couldn’t help but steal glances at Alessia, my heart full of gratitude for her playful spirit and unwavering love.

As the credits rolled, Alessia looked down at me and smiled. “So, what’s the next prank?”

I laughed, shaking my head. “Oh no, I think I’ve had enough, no more twins pranks”

“And just so you know, if you ever try to kiss my twin sister, even as a joke, you'll find yourself single.”

FIN

[southern-fried-simpin]

We Belong Dead| Alastor x Dead Wife!Reader

A/n: Hey everyone I know it’s been a LONG time since I’ve written something and I’m sorry it’s not DC related but I finished Hazbin with my fiancée MONTHS AGO and I’ve been wanting to write Alastor soooo bad! With all of that being said, let it be known that I do NOT condone or agree with any of the questionable actions and opinions of Vivienne Medrano, but I DO enjoy this show and a lot of the characters.

Warning(s): Floofy but suggestive, Alastor “using” reader and reader just kind of going along with it, mentions of murder, sad at first, human Alastor and reader mentioned, temporary unrequited love, Demi romantic Alastor, Alastor because he’s…Alastor, mentions of marriage, canon divergence, suicide, death, loooooong introduction and plot h🫠

“Mama, we’re gonna get married!”

Alastor had decided that you were both ready for marriage in the middle of the school yard and decided to announce this as his mother came to pick him up.

His mother feigned shock as she started to playfully chide him.

“You can’t just marry some girl you met on the first day of school!”

Alastor kept his arms around you as you both giggled and showed his mother the ribbon he had tied around your finger.

“Oh my!” She exclaimed.

“Obviously you two are very serious about this! How about we have your fiancée over for dinner after school one day so I can get to know her better, hm?”

Despite Alastor never having that wedding ceremony with you on the playground, you both remained close all the way up until you graduated high school. After that, you went your separate ways.

Several years later, when Alastor bumped into you as you were leaving the corner store one day, you ended up talking to him for hours. After which, you had started getting together more often. Eating out, going to shows, drinking and having fun together.

Somewhere along the way, however, having fun together turned into going on dates together. Going on dates turned into staying up late talking for hours about anything and everything, and lovely gifts.

One such gift being your engagement ring.

Looking back on it now, you don’t know how or why you thought it was normal for a man to propose after 6 months.

On the outside, Alastor was the husband that every woman dreamed of. He helped you clean and cook, he never raised his voice, and he always bragged about you. On the inside however, something felt stiff. Tense. Off.

Alastor rarely ever initiated kisses, he barely touched you, and he disappeared in the middle of the night rather frequently.

After he was killed, it all made sense. You weren’t his wife so much as you were his alibi. Who would have thought the vicious killer that buried his victims on a hunting ground had a wife waiting at home? A wife who, despite what everyone believed, was oblivious to his crimes. It didn’t matter, though. In a matter of days, you lost your job, your friends, and your peace of mind. In the weeks that came to pass, you slowly lost your mind and your will to live as well.

You died in your sleep after taking a cocktail of pills with a glass of brandy. The police found you in bed wearing your most expensive nightgown, your hair neatly styled, and makeup done perfectly.

Just like before, time had gone on, and your time in hell had been quite interesting. Maybe even a bit enjoyable if you were being honest. The old saying rang true: Hell truly had no fury like a woman scorned. Your arrival in Hell was a testament to that.

Armed with your broken heart and raw, stinging rage, you made a home for yourself and began your own business. Anyone who got in your way was sliced open with the very weapons you sold. You were very aware of Alastor’s presence, but made no effort to contact him. He had no idea you were here, either.

That changed a few days ago.

Who should you see while on an outing in Cannibal Town but your darling husband. He looked different, but you recognized him almost immediately. He offered to walk with you and followed you even after you declined. Every day after that, he miraculously ran into you everywhere you went. He was relentless in trying to get your attention. He would try to talk to you and when you ignored him, he would carry on speaking like it was nothing. Today you finally cracked when he invited you to come to a hotel. The Hazbin Hotel, specifically.

“Why?”

“Well, I thought I might show you this little…business venture…I’ve been working on recently! After all, it’s been awhile since I’ve seen my lovely wi-“

“Don’t call me that.” You spat.

His smile never faltered, but his eyes held a look of momentary discomfort.

“Ah, and here we are!” Alastor pointed his staff towards the building in front of you. It looked like some place from when you were alive, except old and decrepit.

Ever the gentleman, Alastor held the door for you as you walked in before he followed suit. Not 5 minutes passed before a woman with long silver hair angrily stomped in your direction.

“Alastor! Where have y-,” she paused when she noticed you by his side, “who…who the fuck is this?” A blonde was following close behind her.

“I’m glad you asked!” Alastor’s smile broadened. He proceeded to introduce you as his beloved wife to everyone in the room, and then introduced them to you, completely ignoring the looks of shock and awe on their faces. Before anyone else in the room could speak, Alastor hastily took your hand.

“Now, if you excuse us, we have some things to discuss.” With that, you and Alastor promptly dissolved into a shadowy mist.

The lobby was silent then as everyone stared at where Alastor and you once stood.

“Ssso…that was weird for everyone elsse too…right?”

Meanwhile, upstairs, Alastor turned after carefully locking the door to his room.

“Now, I suppose I owe you an explana—“, he was cut off by a resounding smack when your hand connected with his cheek. Alastor’s head turned with a sharp snap. He stood completely still there for a moment, eyes wide and smile looking painfully forced. If it had been anyone else, they would’ve been dead by now, but you? Well…he always liked how feisty you were. Alastor cleared his throat before speaking again.

“Alright…”, he said while turning to face you. “I probably deserved that…”

“You deserve a lot worse than that actually, but go on.”

“I know, and I can’t…” Alastor suddenly felt unsure of what to say. Granted, The Radio Demon was not one for heartfelt apologies (or any apologies for that matter) but if anyone deserved one from him, it was you. Yet, there he stood: the feared Radio Demon, lost for words at your mere presence.

There was a long and uncomfortable silence.

“Do you have any idea what you did to me?” You finally said. “What I suffered because of you?!”

Alastor offered no response.

“What FUCKING-“ you paused as tears began to well in your eyes. Your face red and splotchy and your lips quivering as you started to sob.

“You lied to me-“

“I did.”

“You used me!”

“I did.”

“You told me you loved me!”

“I do.”

And that gave you pause. Had he loved you? Really loved you? No. It had to be a lie. He couldn’t possibly-

“I know I can’t make up for everything I did and everything that happened…” Alastor said while walking towards you. When he stopped, just a few inches from you, you had to look up at him. Alastor was taller than you in life, but now he towered over you. He gently took your hand in his. “But I’ll spend the rest of eternity trying…for you.”

You watched as he gently kissed your fingers. With tears in your eyes and an uneven breath, you laid your head on his chest.

You missed him. You tried not to miss him, but you did and there was no use in denying it anymore.

“One chance,” you finally said. “That’s all you get.”

“That’s all I’m asking.”

You looked up at Alastor and locked eyes with him briefly. The feared Radio Demon wanted nothing more right now than a chance to have you back. His eyes flitted between your lips and your eyes before he dipped you low. To anyone else, it would be an over-the-top gesture, but to you? Oh, how his theatrics made you blush and swoon.

“So…what do you say, darling?” He leaned in closer, almost touching his forehead to yours.

“Do we have a deal?~”

You raised a brow at his words.

He chuckled then.

“Ah, I apologize for my poor choice of words. What I meant was: May I have the honor of courting you, my dear?”

Your eyes softened and you smiled up at him.

“Yes, darling.”

[zvtara-was-never-canon]

Can you give examples of Aang showing Empathy? Oh wait, you can't.

Actually, I can - because unlike you, I base my opinion of the characters on the actual stuff that happened in the story, not the bad faith takes dumb people on the internet come up with.

Zuko literally only survived past book 1 because Aang was the ONLY person amongst the heroes that gave a single fuck about his well-being. Aang offered to be FRIENDS with him as early as episode 13, even though this dude is trying to kidnap him.

In the first damn episode we see him realize and try to remedy Katara's struggle with no longer being able to act like a kid and have fun. He wants to travel with her so SHE gets to learn waterbending. He willingly lets Zuko take him into his ship because he understood that a conflict could lead to the people of the water tribe getting hurt or killed.

In Warriors of Kyoshi he apologizes to Katara for letting all the praise and admiration go to this head. He makes sure to put out the fires Zuko and his crew started in Suki's village.

He tries to help remedy the Hei-Bai situation, even though he is unsure of himself and even scared, because he knows he is the only one that has any chance of helping - and the thing that allows him to connect with Hei-Bai is the fact that he is ALSO upset about the destruction the Fire Nation has caused AND hopeful that the world would eventually heal.

He thinks Jet is awesome because he wants to help people that are being oppressed by the Fire Nation - and then is horrified when he finds out his intension is to "free" them by killing everyone

He wants to help the two rival groups not only safely cross the Great Divide, but also stop hating each other.

He confesses that he hid the map to Hakoda because Bato, Katara and Sokka are showing how much they appreciate and trust him and he feels unworthy of it after what he did because he knows it'd hurt him if the roles were reversed.

He is so devastated by the fact that he ACCIDENTALLY hurt Katara that he swears to never firebend again. He is also able to recognize the same principle behind his mistake in Zhao's fighting style, allowing him to win the battle against the bastard.

He accepts the fact that the Northern Air Temple is now occupied by people who not only don't belong to his culture but also don't understand it and unknowingly destroyed something sacred to him (and that one of them had been forced to make weapons for the Fire Nation) because these people have nowhere else to go and he doesn't want them to suffer.

He is furious at Pakku for refusing to teach Katara waterbending, because he knows how much it'd mean to her and how unfair it is that she can't learn it just because of her gender.

He is so devastated by the death of the Moon Spirit that the Ocean Spirit latches onto him to avenge it and save the day - and the leve of destruction it causes haunts Aang, even though the violence was against his enemies. And still, he tries to go into the Avatar state again because people are dying and he can't accept that.

After the fall of Omashu, he wants to rescue Bumi, not because he needs a teacher, but because they're friends.

He felt empathy for Toph when she was explaining to her parents how lonely and unappriacted their over-protection made her feel.

He and Katara both feel bad for snapping at Toph during "The Chase" and wanted to apologize for not understanding that being part of a group was a radical change to her, even though she had refused to even try. He also didn't have a problem with fighting alongside Zuko and Iroh against Azula, AND he looked concerned when Iroh was injured.

After Katara comments on the fact he called Toph Sifu but not her, he calls her Sifu while bowing, to show that he respects her both as his master and friend.

The hopelessness and downright depression he was feeling after Appa was stolen only starts healing because he saw a couple being happy with their newborn baby - the same couple he decided to help cross the Serpent's Pass, even though he and his friends had just been allowed to take a much safer route to Ba Sing Se.

His understanding and sympathy towards Jet, even after everything the guy did, was so strong that it freed him from literal brainwashing.

He doesn't want to push his love for Katara aside to gain power because he cares about her too much - and then does it anyway because, even though not making her his main focus 24/7 offers the risk of her being hurt, him neglecting his mission guarantees she'll get hurt.

He is devastated to learn that the world thinks he is dead because he knows he was everyone's last hope - and yet in the end he still accepts the burden of failure because he understood that, at that moment, everyone would be safer if no one else knew he was still alive.

He goes to a Fire Nation school and bonds with the kids, wanting to give them a taste of freedom and joy, as well as trying to understand what the war is like from their perspective. The same episode also has him pull Katara for a dance because he noticed she was feeling left out.

The boy felt empathy for, and understood the mistakes of, both Ruko and Sozin. SOZIN. Aang could see the humanity in the monster that is responsible for him losing his entire culture and everyone he loved.

When Zuko spoke about wanting to control his impulses so he wouldn't accidentally hurt anyone, Aang explicitly connected with that struggle and saw them being teacher and student as fate, and Zuko agreed because that's how deep their connection was.

Aang is not happy about Katara wanting to murder a man, but he still lets her take Appa on her mission and is not disapproving when she ultimately spares the guy but does not forgive him and makes it clear she never will.

He feels empathy for freaking Ozai, to the point that refuses to kill the guy - even as he has the balls to say that Aang's family, his people, deserved to die. He spared that guy - but only after he had a way to do that without it meaning the death of more innocents. Aang, the pacifist, was going to turn his back on everything he believed in just to avoid more human suffering.

So yeah, miss me with your bullshit and don't come back until your brain is developed enough to understand a cartoon aimed at kindergarterners.

[imababblekat]

TmnT Boy's Reaction To April's Roomie Dressing Nice; Hc's

Anon request, "Hey so I have a quick request- but first ima say that I love your writing style and your spider-person/tmnt AU! It’s so fun to read your work and I say it again, I love it! Anyway tho, can I pls request on how the turtles react to our sleepy roommate, actually looking their best. Such as in a nice outfit and they freshened up. Please don’t feel like you have to write this. And you can skip it if you want. But ya, amazing work! ✨✨✨"

A/N: Aw thank you! sorry i've been dead lately, hopefully i'll be able to get to it tho ヽ(✿ﾟ▽ﾟ)ノ

◍ Previous/Mentioned Post◍

◌ (c,c) = chosen color ◌

~xXx~

Michelangelo:

100% whistles when he comes to pick you and April up for a special NYPD ceremony and gets a look at your nightly outfit

It’s not even anything super sexy; a (c,c) long sleeved, v neck jumper with a simple floral design down one of the open pent legs accompanied with a pair of (c,c) block heals and simple but stylish jewelry

The outfit and your styled up looks are just so different from what Mikey is used to seeing you in, which is usually either comfy sweats or casual clothing depending on the location

He lets you know how stunning you look and doesn’t miss the way you shyly try to hide your blush at his compliments, which only spurs him on some more

At one point in the night he makes a slightly flirtatious comment about how he’s not surprised you pulled off such a look, because he thinks you’re gorgeous in anything, and is promptly met with your very flustered response of shoving your matching orange purse in his face (he regrets nothing!)

Donatello:

This poor turt feels his stomach fluttering when lays eyes upon your outfit for the nights celebration

Accentuating your appearance is a soft (c,c) dress with a sewn on silk cape that covers your upper arms, frilly tights cover your legs and adorable (c,c) flats support your feet, and to top it all off is a simple but very cute pastel purple bow clipped neatly to your hair to pull it all together

Donnie nearly chokes up on his words trying to think of the right thing to say, as he’s so used to seeing you wearing anything else but this type of style

Eventually he settles for just offering you his arm to walk with him into the rented convention center the NYPD is hosting in, to which you appreciatingly take

You’re just so pretty and to be frank the purple bow is definitely throwing him off in the best of ways

Of course, Donnie being too smart for his own good, has a sneaking suspicion the accessory was a purposeful choice based on your little smirk and glinting gaze

Raphael:

All the impatience Raphael felt waiting for you and April to finish getting ready dissipates like water in the Sahara when his golden eyes lay witness to your get up

Enveloping you is a beautiful (c,c) asymmetrical cloak sleeved top that cascades diagonally down your form and to match are a pair of equally flowing wide leg trousers and (c,c) coned heels

The accessory picked to match is a very pretty necklace with a glimmering ruby, a detail that does not escape Raphael’s notice

Speaking of notice, it does not escape you the slightly awkward silence you and April are greeted with from the burly ninja

Raph is quick to fix himself when April ask if he’s okay, hoping no one notices the deep blush upon his cheeks, and he jokingly pretends to not recognize you, saying he’s just focused on trying to see where you’re at

You of course roll your eyes at his antics and smack his arm, Raphael chuckling at your slight feistiness he adores, and commits your un-characteristic appearance to the catalog of memories he has of you

Leonardo:

Much like Raphael, Leonardo is left speechless when the balcony window to your and April’s apartment opens to reveal your chosen attire for the NYPD ceremony

A (c,c) suit blazer tops a neatly ironed dress shirt that’s tucked into matching (c,c) slacks held up by a fastened belt and to match are a pair of (c,c) oxfords to offer your feet comfort as well as added fanciness

The blue tie around your collared shirt is what catches Leo’s eyes, a grin spreading across his face as he steps inside and makes a comment about how the outfit suits you

Ignoring his punny compliment you simply say thanks before adding that you just wish you could get the tie to not be crooked and if he would be okay lending a hand

Leonardo has no issue helping especially when it comes to you and as he closes the gap between you to adjust said troublesome tie, it takes all of his willpower to not get completely enraptured by the deepening blush upon your soft cheeks, that of which always seems to make him equally flush

~xXx~

[jaiden-zhou]

(1) casual iso <3

contents: headcanons, reader is a uniqlo employee for plot purposes

not a writer but,, iso is so.. sigh, imagine this reserved uniqlo wearing hitman acting like an absolute puppy for you. yeah this is self indulgent and yeah maybe its based off of my experiences but hey, content.. its long.. i.. the things this man does to me

part 2, part 3

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.

iso whose closet is practically all uniqlo apparel, from core basics to limited exclusive collabs, anything else is like expensive tech wear/street style clothes, he likes his quality

iso who always grabs heavy oolong milk tea with tapioca pearls, a classic predictable drink (his friends call him basic for it, but he doesn't mind), every afternoon he gets the chance to

iso who ends up being an employee there with how much he visits, the owners are a chinese elderly couple who like gossiping with him in mandarin (he has fun listening to their stories and such)

iso who likes having music playing of his own whether it be from his headphones or speakers, even at work his music is playing loud enough for only him to hear from his headset hanging around his neck

iso who works evening shifts part-time and gains a lot of eyes from admirers where he gets at least three numbers given to him a month like "you're really cute, text me <3 (XXX) XXX-XXXX"

iso who's never interested, none of them catch his eyes like how he catches theirs, and ends up tossing whatever number scribbled onto a receipt away

iso who goes to uniqlo on his day off for a collaboration launch consisting of outerwear jackets and trousers that match his style only to not find his size on the racks

iso who takes his time trying to comb through the racks, desperate to find it on his own and take it with him before giving up, pulling down his headphones, and reluctantly asking you

iso who, at a reasonable distance, looks over your shoulder as you look up the product listing with the desired size and color, hearing faint rap music playing through his headphones slung around his neck, finding that there should be three units left and listens in quietly when you radio your coworkers if there are any in the back before going to look for yourself

iso who waits patiently at the same spot for quite a while before you go jogging up to him with the jacket he has been wanting, the plastic and paper still wrapping it up signaling that it has been unprocessed and untouched

iso who still is patient with you with an expectant look, not the impatient kind, it's the anticipating excitement kind, as you're still a little out of breath from running around finding the item for him unwrapping and removing all the excess packaging and giving it to him with both hands, garbage tucked at your arm

iso who looks at your earnest expression, sweet eyes, and genuine smile and feels his breath hitch before taking the coat and doing a little head bow while muttering a quiet 'thanks'

iso who leaves an anonymous compliment to you, conveying his gratitude for going out of your way to find him a limited quantity jacket and sub-consciously thinks of your cute expression of when you gave it to him every time he throws it on

iso who was asked to pick up a morning shift, no one else could and so he decided to just wake up early enough and suck it up but boy does he not regret it

iso who opens up the shop for the first time ever and lo-and-behold, you waltz in as the first customer and immediately he recognizes you, and apparently so do the owners

iso who listens quietly as, whom he likes to call granny, greets you with a warm voice asking if you're ready to go to work

iso who once again patiently waits for you to walk up and order, finding out that you're also a regular here, always grabbing a drink before your long shift at the japanese clothing store he met you in

iso who's still a little quiet, shy even, when you greet him noting that you recognize him from a while ago, your friendly exterior giving him a fuzzy comforting feeling inside

iso who after making your drink, bids you goodbye and continues on (not before asking to switch to morning shifts.. for some reason hehe)

iso who starts seeing you most mornings before you work and then with some time, working up the courage (it was very hard, he was very nervous you just didn't see it) to ask you for your number, nothing romantic just being friendly, right?

iso who starts getting a little closer to you, learning what day and times you work, your hobbies, your favorite things, the music you listen to <3

iso who sometimes drops by your workplace to give you a drink or some food and simple yet subtly sweet encouragement that always seems to lift your spirits to push through the day

iso who even starts to see you near or at the end of your shift to take you home, you've worked long enough, and it's dark out.. :(

iso who likes to ensure your safety by accompanying you home, his friends like to say (tease) that it gives him an excuse to see you more. it's dangerous out at night, what are they talking about? nonsense. (denial is a river in egypt)

iso who as time goes by, slowly craves your presence a little more than he'd like to admit, you're always on his mind and he often flusters himself with his thoughts of you, his cheeks donning a light-pink blush. maybe his friends are onto something.. ugh

yeah i'm definitely writing more iso content hehe

------

"don't have to take me home every time, zhao yuuuu." you whined next to him. "i've done it before and i can do it again."

you only get a short scoff in return, iso's hands stuffed into the pockets of his jacket.

"it's dark, you're more at risk when you're alone." iso states matter-of-fact. his headphones at his neck with no music playing. "you know this too, so you shouldn't be complaining."

"yeah but," you pause for a moment. "i don't want you to have to make the trip each time to pick me up.."

iso takes in your dejected tone, his eyes soften.

"and i don't want you being in potential danger where i could've been there to deter it." iso chides softly. "please, for my peace of mind.."

"whatever you say," you comply, your shoulder bumping into him jokingly as you share a quiet laugh. "thanks, yu. it means a lot."

"always," he replies, a certain warmth sets in when he hears you say his nickname.

[hyuny-bunny]

cybersex | camgirl! x skz

prologue. chapter I

MDNI (18+): this series will depict sex work and acts of sex. this prologue has suggestive themes, nudity, and mentions of butt plugs

skz x fem!reader

a/n: I'll have chapter 1 up soon but I hope you all love this series as much as I do!

synopsis: after a month or so of becoming a camgirl! your career really takes off, you decide to get a place of your own to film content. a lovely building opens up with the perfect space for all your necessities but to your surprise, your favorite waiter boys and long time crush on the head chief of the restaurant you work also happen to live in the building. Bringing you to meet their own assortment of friends. what happens when they find out there's some holes in the stories you tell about your life style?

prologue

You always had a keen interest in the sex work. You had an nsfw twitter page for yourself but it was only really used as a means of saving material or on a bold occasion, posting some captions with said material. There was a thrill of seeing your notifications filled with compliments and praises of like-minded people who were just as horny as you. Your roommate Sana had gotten into doing camgirl work pretty early on. You had indulged your curiosity on occasion when she and her girlfriend would be streaming just down the hall from you. Popping onto the stream to see your roommate's body on display and her girlfriend sat cutely between her legs wearing nothing but a heart-shaped butt plug. Sana would encourage you to try it out at least, very aware of how much you had desired to try it out but always holding back. Financially speaking, you could only benefit from it. In comparison to what you two made in a week at your measly waitress jobs, she could make both your checks for two weeks in just one night and even double dependent on how long she streamed for.

“You’re not worried that someone will recognize you?” You asked standing in the newly furnished cam room, floor to ceiling decorated in all shades of pink imaginable. 

“Not anymore, I revealed my face on stream so long ago, I haven’t given it much thought since. Besides, I could walk away at any moment I decide. I will admit there was a certain thrill with covering up in the beginning. I think there's something about hiding your identity while being in such a lewd state that elicits such an adrenaline rush. It makes the excitement of being watched and gawked at all the more fun.” Sana is now leaning on the desk where her camera and lighting equipment reside. 

“I like the fun, bring me as much joy and excitement as it probably does for my followers,” There’s a slight flush that rises to the tops of her cheeks that you can still make out in the fluorescent lights, “The biggest thing for me is it gives me the confidence I need, the financial security is just a bonus.”

The windows were covered by drawn curtains that covered the entirety of the walls, allowing the room to only be lit by the neon color-changing lamps which to no surprise were set at a baby pink. The floors were covered by a fluffy throw rug, with very little wood peaking. There is a makeshift sofa bed that's covered by an assortment of pillows and silk sheets and another fluffy blanket. There sat on the floor is the giant white teddy bear, Mina, Sana’s longtime partner, gifted her just a month ago. You stayed quiet, absorbing your surroundings. You were amazed but also… jealous. Jealous of how she could find confidence and find security in what most people found so vulnerable. You let out a sigh, sitting on the almost too-silky sheets that caused you to slide right off the bed. 

“Careful. You can imagine how slippery they are in the nude,” She laughed softly as she stared at you, waiting to speak again. “I see the gears turning… What’s on your mind kit-kat?” Your eyes bolt up to her.

“I’m just... A bit taken aback I guess. You could say jealous maybe. This is the frist time I’ve ever considered it as a viable option…” You let the sentence trail off not knowing what to say.

All your life, you had complexes about your body. Measured your self-worth in the way your body looked, and how it compared to other girls you had admired. The older you got, the better you were about mentally checking yourself, to realize it was okay not to be shaped like other girls. Finding it in yourself to feel secure in the body you had. Although you could keep those insecurities at bay most of the time, they would crawl out from under the bed like a hideous monster to plague your thoughts when you felt down about the lackluster love life. Bad dates, unreciprocated feelings, and talking stages that never went anywhere, that was the extent of your love life. 

“You want to give it a try?” That question pulled you out of your thoughts, now you were the one with a bright flush across the tops of your cheeks. “I can help you get started, set up your account, and start promoting you on my own account to start you off with a bit of a following. That’s if… you really are serious about this.” Sana had always been so sweet to you, she had already been letting you take the spare of her 3-bedroom rental as you couldn’t afford to live on your own. She had always extended a helping hand when you needed but here was a chance to finally get you to land on your own feet for once. How could you refuse such an opportunity?

“I don’t know… I don’t think I’m cut out for something like this I mean look at you! I don’t know how anyone is supposed to get off looking at-”

“Finish that sentence and you’re never allowed to see Jiji again,” Sana interrupted, Jiji was your shared house cat who was slowly becoming more yours as time went on. “ I don't want to pressure you into anything but I just think you could actually see the benefit in this. Give it one try and if you don’t like it, I erase every trace of you.”

You sat with the thought, your brain tugging you to go for it. One chance and if it doesn’t work out no harm right? 

“When can we start?”

masterlist • next chapter ->

[lunarw0rks]

Hiii, I've absolutely devoured most of your fics and I absolutely LOVE your writing style ♡♡♡ could you do an established relationship fiction with Ghost? Y/n is sort of asexual, so sometimes even if she's not in the mood herself, she just likes to watch Simon get himself off (maybe multiple rounds!!!)? Nsfw with lots of fluff??? ♡

warning(s): nsfw (18+), established relationship, fluff/smut, (m.) masturbation, asexual!fem!reader

A HELPING HAND | SIMON RILEY

it's no secret that simon's relationship with intimacy is complicated.

but so is yours, and it makes for a perfect pair... sometimes. tonight was not one of those nights.

"are you alright?" you ask, glancing up from the book in your hands.

he hasn't stopped fidgeting, and he won't. sit. down. it's starting to drive you nuts. but frankly, for such a calm man to get jittery — something was up.

it was random, his sudden urge for intimacy. however, it was clear you were relaxing, in your own little world. he didn't want to soil that. it had been weeks since you two had sex — which was usually never a problem, but tonight was especially difficult for Simon to stifle.

"...'m fine," now he's rearranging the desktop, only sitting down in the desk chair briefly as a means of distraction. his pants were painfully tight by this point.

"simon... simon." you interrupt his rambles, recognizing that familiar shift he's doing in the seat. how one hand has remained on his inner thigh for several minutes. "if you want something, all you need to do is ask, you know that, right?"

the swivel chair comes to a stop when it faces you, but he's still stiff in his posture. "not that kind of favor, love." he says, looking awfully meek for someone with such conviction any other time.

you were only teasing him before. but now you really had an answer — the root of his not-so-little problem, which resided in boxers that are currently a size too small.

though you weren't feeling any urges of your own arise, there was fun to be had in watching him. it wouldn't have been the first time, either. "why don't i watch you again?"

there was no sense in being coy like he was the first time you proposed the idea. it wasn't as awkward as you thought it'd be. in fact, that night you found the sight quite arousing... without acting feeling aroused at that moment. besides, it made the reward for later twice as satisfying — whether it be weeks, or months before you have the desire to reciprocate again.

"you're sure about this?" his movements went still as if waiting on your permission to start palming his thigh again.

with a small smile, you tossed your book aside and let it land somewhere out of sight on the bed. still, you insisted, "deadly serious, si. it doesn't bother me."

he clicked his tongue and nodded to himself, slouching a bit in the chair to unbuckle his belt. the metal clinked as he shimmed with it, eventually setting the accessory on the desk behind him. once the jeans were loosened, you could truly see the pressure of his hardened length — begging to be sprung free.

simon shifted his hips until only his jeans were pulled down a bit. next, he peeled back the waistband of his ebony briefs, cock slumping against his tone stomach. tip ruddy and oozing pre-cum, and his stomach heaved a bit from the sensation of having his problem released from the confines of clothing.

thick, calloused hands grasped his erection, slouching forward to spit on it. the translucent string rolled down his shaft, going the pattern of the prominent veins along its sides. a truly lude image to witness; tempting, even, if you were truly in the mood.

instead, it was motivation enough for another time.

manspreading in the desk chair, he continued to work his cock. faint, wet clicks of the lubricant echoing through the bedroom. it didn't help how quiet simon naturally was. but where was the fun in this, if not putting on some sort of show for you?

he let a few noises slip, huffing through his nostrils audibly and letting out small grunts the faster you went. you lay back against the plush bed, biting back feelings of fluster that came whether aroused or not. his moans were rare and cherished — and you happened to be one of the few souls lucky enough to hear them.

you folded your arms and watched intently, gnawing on your bottom lip. not being aroused didn't mean you weren't going to ogle him, especially when all hot and bothered.

his hand moved hastily, its large size swallowing his length, covering more surface area than yours ever could. you'd catch his hips bucking in the seat while he maintained eye contact — unless they drooped shut when his fingers brushed against his sensitive slit. the same way he shuttered when you skimmed your tongue along it many times, except he had the luxury of not getting 'scolded' for it.

now he's exposed his weak points. you now knew he savored it when you teased your tongue there.

especially when he'd gotten so twitchy with his own thumb caressing. well, now you've taken note to tease him that way again, no matter the repercussions.

"need to— fuck— touch you," his speech skipped like a scratched CD, the strokes growing sloppier and more desirous. he was close; so fucking close.

you nod your head, watching him stand to his feet. as simon walks over, he slows his roll a bit, enough to ensure he won't spill right then and there. you remain in the same position, except for the hand you place on his waist, running your palm up and down his abdomen to give him for stimulation.

he stands beside the bed, his clean hand reaching out. his thumb brushes against your lip, giving your bottom one a slight drag — then slipping between them and running along your gums, allowing you to tongue along his finger like you would his cock.

the sticky, gummy texture of your mouth — like that of your entrance clenching around him. and your caress, like you always did when he hit spots deep inside. your small contributions allowed his imagination to do the rest of the heavy lifting.

you palmed his abs, maintaining eye contact to give him every bit of this otherwise touchless act. but your hand along his stomach was enough, as was playing with your mouth; enough to push him turbulently over that edge.

a string of curses poured from simon's lips, just like the globs of cum that followed quickly after. into his palm, he released his load, hips grinding against nothing until the overwhelming sensations ceased. his finger removed from your mouth with a pop, before he sped to the bathroom to wipe himself off.

a few moments later, he returned, finding you in the same position. it was quite a show, to put it lightly; not one you'll forget any time soon, either.

instead of standing like before, he knelt in front of the bed, sitting between your legs with his neck craned to look up at you. "that was alrigh' with you?" he asks again as if the 'damage' wasn't already done.

you nodded again, reassuring him once more, "of course, si. it doesn't bother me. and it's... a sight to see." you attempt a wink but look more like you're trying to get something out of your eye.

he scoffs at your attempt, taking both your hands — while simon's are icy and freshly smelling of the lavender soap in the washroom. despite your humor, it means a lot to be reassured by you. "christ, you are unbelievable, lovie. y'know tha'?" he teases, giving each of your knuckles a buss.

"i know it," you sneer, squirming slightly from the pecks. "but i still won't forget tonight. it'll keep me warm when you're away."

his brow cocks, and then comes a half-awkward chuckle. "you're a bloody tease, but i'm guessing you know that too, don't you? and a proper smart mouth."

you retort the same, having keen knowledge of how to press his fragile buttons. "what are you going to do? get the soap?"

"might have to." simon replies with faux sternness, even while speaking through a warm smile, the rough pads of his thumbs still rubbing your knuckles.

━━━━⊱⋆⊰━━━━♡━━━━⊱⋆⊰━━━━

꒦꒷ MAIN MASTERLIST ꒷꒦ GHOST MASTERLIST ────have a request? ˗ˏˋ ASK BOX ˎˊ˗

‧₊˚ ⋅* ‧₊ divider cred. - cafekitsune ｡･:*:･

[imaginesheaven]

TF 141 reacting to a very strong Reader(gn preferably) ? Like strong to the point they can lift at most 700pds? (315 kgs) like it's paper? Can be romantic or platonic

(ps. I have zero idea if you are taking requests I feel like this would be a funny thing)

Your wish is my command! This is literally so fun to write :D Keep the requests coming if you want :) I hope you like it!

Warnings: Cursing .. once again (I can't write literally nothing without a single curse word)

Strong!Reader x TF 141 - Friendship Headcanons

The team doesn’t know right away how strong you actually are. It’s not a fact you like to introduce yourself with. Mostly you keep it to yourself until you start to trust the people around you. Apart from this, you like it when people underestimate you.

Funnily your body doesn’t match your strength level at all. You have a rather slender and delicate form.

And that’s how you got your call sign within the Task Force 141. Soap started to call you “Tiny”, which has absolutely nothing to do with your height. He just likes to tease you. Unfortunately, the name got stuck in their brains and everyone calls you “Tiny”. At first you were not happy about it, but over the time you get used to it.

One evening it was your time to shine. Almost the whole team gathered to drink some beer or other alcoholics to unwind from a rather hard mission. Captain Price is nowhere to seen. Probably in his office doing some work like he always does. No one of you is really drunk just a bit more loose than usual.

Of course, Soap started to throw around dares like there is no tomorrow. We all know our beloved Scottish clown. You enjoy the sight as they try to out beat each other in different dares like who can drink more in ten seconds and so on.

“(Y/N), you are so tiny! I’m pretty sure you can’t even pick up Gaz!”, Soap can’t contain his own joy. He would learn in a few seconds to never underestimate someone because of their appearance.

With a bright smile on your lips you stand up and pick up Gaz bridal style. “Okay… that’s new”, Kyle isn’t quite sure how to feel about being carried like this. As if it wouldn’t be enough already you do a few rounds of squats.

The silence is deafening.

You keep doing your squats as Gaz holds onto your form for his dear life. He would never admit it but he feels quite safe and protected in your arms. The soldier starts to see you in a new light. Is that how a crush feels like?!

“Hold on, mate! Wait a second!”, Soap finds his tongue again throwing the empty bottle of beer away in the same second, “Now is my turn!” You put Gaz down and give Soap a chance to be carried bridal style.

“What the hell did they feed you back home?”, Ghost asks quite surprised, which is a rare sight. Grinning you shrug your shoulders doing more squats with Soap in your arms, “Nothing special. I’m just strong and love lifting things.”

“Steamin’ Jesus!”, Soap’s cheeks start to turn red. He has never been carried like that and it feels very good. “Get down, Johnny”, Ghost rolls his eyes playfully annoyed, “You are making a bloody fool out yourself.”

“Why did you keep this secret to yourself?”, Gaz can’t believe they all called you “Tiny” since your transfer into the team. “Just waited for the right moment, I guess”, you hold out your free arms for Ghost, who shakes his head slowly. “Can you carry us both at the same time?”, Soap exclaims excited and almost jumps into your arms again.

Captain Price walks down the hall to get himself a tea. He has been sitting hours at his desk doing tons of paperwork. Now he recalls that he didn’t hear a single word from his team for those said hours. Panic washes over him in an instant. Where were you all and what stupid shit have you done this time?!

“OH MY GOD! THIS IS INSANE!”, Price follows the loud voices he recognizes immediately down the hall but stops abruptly.

There you are all Soap wrapped up in one arm and Gaz in the other one. You carry them both doing squats without even breaking into a sweat. Ghost just raises his beer bottle cheering it at Price, “Hey, Captain! Nice evening, huh?”

Price looks at each of you a solid second with a shocked face, “What the bloody hell I am just witnessing?” Soap claps his hands still excited about your hidden talent, “Tiny is fucking strong, Captain!” Price just nods in agreement, “I can see that.”

“Seems like Tiny isn’t an appropriate call sign anymore”, Ghost summarizes the situation in one sentence. Price can’t still get over the fact you kept this promise for such a long time to yourself. He takes happily the beer that Ghost overs him.

“How much can you lift?”, the Captain can’t take his eyes off of you fascinated and horrified at the same time. You are still doing your squats with Soap and Gaz. You probably could outlift him at any time! He has respected to before but now he kind of worships you. Can’t he have a whole army of soldiers like you?

“Hmm… Around 700 pounds I think was the best I ever did. I can probably lift more but I never tested it out”, you say that like’s something absolutely normal to do. Price almost chokes on his beer as Ghost slides down in his chair. What have you done?

Soap and Gaz share an overly excited glance clapping their hands, “We have to test that out right away!” They wriggle themselves free from your grasp to run around in a search for heavy things to lift.

Ghost wouldn’t admit it but he is also impressed with your skills, “That’s going to be a long night.”

[03jyh23]

🥣⌇this might be love┆jeong yunho

non-idol! yunho x reader ft. roommate mingi

│synopsis: when you fall ill with a nasty cold, your roommate Mingi takes it upon himself to play matchmaker, inviting his best friend Yunho over to take care of you

│genre: friends to lovers, fluff, failed attempt on comedy

│trigger warnings: mature themes, mature language, mingi is gay, mingi plays cupid, mild illness descriptions, mild suggestive, reader is shorter than yunho

│words: 6.7 k

│reminder: what you’re about to read is purely fiction, so let’s keep it separate from reality.

│requested prompts are bold

!minors do not interact!

— hi there, my lovely people! this request has been sitting in my inbox since before my hiatus, and i'm finally posting it now! i'm really happy with how it turned out, and honestly, i like it so much! the writing process was a lot of fun, and i'm excited to share it with you! enjoy!

love, mon ♡

You were sprawled across your bed, your body feeling heavy and drained as you reached for yet another tissue from the rapidly diminishing pack. Your nose, red and irritated from constant wiping, continued its relentless dripping, while your muscles ached with a dull, persistent soreness.

The cold wasn't unbearable, but it was certainly taking its toll. It left you feeling slightly drained, your energy sapped, yet it was still within the realm of manageable discomfort. You couldn't help but loathe being sick; the inconvenience, the discomfort, and the forced inactivity all grated on your nerves. But you knew that getting plenty of rest was the best way to get better quickly. It wasn't just helpful - it was necessary to fight off the cold. The prospect of lying in bed for days wasn't appealing, but you knew it was the quickest way back to feeling like yourself again.

With a soft groan, you rolled to the other side of the bed, your hand fumbling for your phone charger. As you reached for it, you also grabbed a throat lozenge from the nightstand, hoping it would soothe the persistent tickle in your throat. Just as you were about to pop the lozenge into your mouth, a flash of color caught your eye. Peering through the crack in the door, you spotted a tuft of vibrant red hair. You raised your eyebrow, focusing your bleary eyes on the familiar sight. It was none other than Mingi, your best friend and roommate, apparently hovering just outside your door. His presence, both unexpected and comforting, brought a small smile to your face despite your illness-induced misery.

"What's up, Mings?" you asked, slightly lifting your head from the pillow to see him better.

Mingi stood in the doorway, looking uncharacteristically nervous. His hair was styled carefully, his locks falling softly onto his eyebrows and glasses. He was wearing a pink, oversized sweater, and loose light jeans that complemented his tall frame. His fingers fidgeted with the hem of his sweater as he spoke. "I was just thinking that maybe I shouldn't be leaving you all alone when you're sick?" he said, scratching the back of his neck as he looked at you with concern in his eyes.

You rolled your eyes at him playfully. "We've already talked about this. You've been waiting forever for this guy to ask you out, so please, for the love of God, just go on that date already!" Mingi stepped into your room, his fingers now fidgeting with his rings nervously. You sighed, recognizing the signs of his anxiety. "Are you trying to find an excuse not to go?" you asked, pushing yourself up to sit on your bed. You patted the spot next to you, inviting him to sit. As Mingi hesitantly made his way over, you couldn't help but notice the conflict evident in his expression. Despite your own discomfort from the cold, you felt a surge of concern for your friend.

Mingi finally sat down beside you, he cleared his throat before speaking "What if I mess it up? What if he realizes I'm not as cool as he thought I was?" His eyes darted around, avoiding your gaze.

"Mings, you're overthinking this," you said, propping yourself up on your elbow. "He asked you out because he likes you, just as you are. Besides, you're plenty cool – even when you're being a total dork." You reached out and gave Mingi's hand a reassuring squeeze. "Listen, I know first dates can be nerve-wracking, but remember, he's probably just as nervous as you are. Just be yourself, Min. That's who he wants to see." You paused, a small sneeze interrupting your pep talk. "And hey, if it doesn't go well, you can always come back here and we'll binge-watch your favorite show together, okay?"

Mingi's voice was soft, almost a whisper, as he continued, his eyes fixed on your carpet, unable to meet your gaze. "It's just that he's so... cool, you know? Like, effortlessly cool, handsome, and kind of intimidating," he started, his words coming out in a rush. He paused, taking a deep breath before continuing, "And then there's me. Just... plain old me. Nothing special, nothing extraordinary. I can't help but wonder why someone like him would even be interested in someone like me."

You felt a pang of sympathy for your friend. Despite his vibrant personality and kind heart, Mingi had always struggled with self-doubt. "Hey, look at me," you said gently, waiting for Mingi to meet your eyes. "You're amazing just as you are. Your quirkiness, your passion for music, your terrible jokes—that's what makes you you. And that's exactly why he asked you out." You paused, squeezing your best friend's arm reassuringly once again, before continuing, "Trust me, Mingi, you've got so much to offer. Just be yourself and let him see the amazing person I know you are."

As you finished your pep talk, you suddenly felt the urgent need to blow your nose. You reached for a tissue and let out a loud, honking blow. Mingi's face scrunched up in a mix of amusement and mild disgust. "Alright, Miss Therapist," Mingi said, standing up with a dramatic flair. "I think I'll head out before I catch that disgusting virus of yours." He started walking towards the door, a small smile playing on his lips despite his earlier nervousness.

You watched as Mingi bent down to put on his shoes, his movements more confident now. As he straightened up, a mischievous grin spread across his face. "You know what?" Mingi said, his eyes twinkling with a mixture of playful determination and newfound confidence. "If I'm going on this date, then I think it's about time you finally asked Yunho out."

Your eyes widened in surprise, and you felt an immediate rush of heat flood your cheeks. The mere mention of Yunho's name sent your heart into a flutter, "W-what? Yunho? I don't... I mean, I..." you stammered, suddenly finding the pattern on your bedspread fascinating.

Mingi's grin widened, a hint of amusement dancing in his eyes. "Oh, come on, Y/N. You can't seriously think you've been hiding it well. I've seen the way you look at him - it's like he hung the moon and stars just for you. Plus, you get all flustered and tongue-tied every time he's around. It's actually quite entertaining to watch."

You buried your face in your hands, your embarrassment compounded by your illness-induced flush. "Is it that obvious?" you mumbled through your fingers.

"Only to everyone with functioning eyes," Mingi teased, his voice softening slightly. "But don't worry, I think it's absolutely adorable that you have such a massive crush on my best friend. It's like watching a rom-com in real life."

You groaned loudly, dramatically falling back onto your pillow and pulling the covers up to hide your burning face. "Just go on your date already," you said, your voice barely audible through the layers of blankets. "Leave me here to die of embarrassment in peace."

Mingi chuckled, the sound warm and affectionate. "Alright, alright. I'll go, but don't think for a second that this conversation is over, Y/N! We're definitely revisiting this topic when I get back."

As Mingi turned to leave, a mischievous idea suddenly popped into your head. Despite your embarrassment, you couldn't resist the urge to turn the tables on him. With a grin you suddenly shouted, "I know you shaved your butthole! No sex on the first date!" just as Mingi's hand reached for the doorknob.

The effect was instantaneous. Mingi froze mid-motion, his hand hovering over the handle as if suddenly paralyzed. Slowly, almost comically, he turned back to face you, his eyes as wide as saucers and his cheeks rapidly turning a shade of red that rivaled his vibrant hair. For a long moment, he stood there, mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water, struggling to form coherent words. "I... You... How did you...?" he sputtered. Then, as if suddenly remembering how to function, he pointed an accusing finger at you, his expression a mix of shock, embarrassment, and grudging amusement. "You're terrible, you know that? Absolutely, fucking terrible!"

Despite your congested state and the persistent tickle in your throat, you couldn't help but burst into laughter at Mingi's priceless reaction. Your amusement quickly turned into a coughing fit, but the utterly flabbergasted look on his face made it all worthwhile. "Just go on your date, you adorable dork," you managed to say between coughs, waving him off.

Mingi shook his head, a complex mixture of embarrassment, amusement, and fondness playing across his features. "You're lucky you're sick, or I'd get you back for that comment right now," he said, finally gathering enough composure to open the door. "Get better soon, you little bitch! And don't think I won't remember this!" As the door closed behind him, you flopped back onto your pillow, still giggling despite your stuffy nose and sore throat. The brief exchange had momentarily lifted your spirits. You made a mental note to tease Mingi more about this later, once you were feeling better.

You hadn't even noticed when you fell asleep in the middle of scrolling mindlessly through your phone. The sudden chime of the doorbell jolted you awake, leaving you disoriented and groggy. How long have you been sleeping? Confusion set in as you tried to gather your thoughts. Did Mingi forget his keys? But he rarely did that. Or was he back already? That seemed unlikely given how nervous he'd been about his date. Your foggy mind raced through possibilities as you struggled to sit up, your body still heavy with sleep and illness. The doorbell rang again, more insistent this time. With a groan, you pushed yourself out of bed, wrapping a blanket around your shoulders like a cape. Your legs felt wobbly as you made your way to the door, your heart racing with a mix of curiosity. You reached for the handle, took a deep breath, and opened the door.

As the door swung open, you found yourself face to face with Yunho. His tall frame filled the doorway, and his warm brown eyes were filled with concern. Your heart skipped not just one, but several beats in quick succession, and you felt an intense warmth spread across your cheeks.

"Y/N! I hope I'm not bothering you," Yunho said, his voice gentle. The familiar timbre of his words sent a pleasant shiver down your spine, momentarily distracting you from your stuffy nose and aching muscles. "I heard you were feeling sick, so I made you some soup." he continued, a hint of shyness creeping into his voice. He held up a sizable container, "It's my grandma's special recipe, it's worked wonders for me whenever I've been sick. I swear, it's like magic in a bowl."

You blinked rapidly, momentarily stunned into silence by his incredibly thoughtful gesture. A warm, fuzzy feeling bloomed in your chest, momentarily overshadowing your illness. "Yunho, I... you really didn't have to go through all this trouble," you finally managed to say, your voice slightly hoarse and barely above a whisper.

He smiled then, a warm, genuine smile that reached his eyes, causing them to crinkle adorably at the corners. The sight made your heart do a little flip in your chest. "But I wanted to, Y/N. Taking care of you... I mean, helping you feel better is important to me," he said, a faint blush coloring his cheeks. "Do you think I could come in for a bit? I just want to make sure you're okay and maybe heat up this soup for you."

You hesitated for a moment, your illness-addled brain struggling to process the situation. But as you looked into Yunho's earnest eyes, you felt a warmth that had nothing to do with your fever. "Of course," you heard yourself say, stepping aside to let him in. "I'd love some company, actually." As Yunho entered, you couldn't help but feel that maybe being sick wasn't so bad after all. Yunho busied himself in the kitchen, and you found yourself trailing off, a question forming on your lips. "How did you know I was...?" you started your voice raspy from your cold.

Yunho glanced over his shoulder, a soft smile playing on his lips. "Well, Mingi called," he explained, turning to face you, "He was feeling pretty guilty about leaving you like that."

'This little bitch,' you thought to yourself. You tried to compose yourself, suddenly acutely aware of your disheveled appearance. Your oversized hoodie was rumpled beyond repair, and you could only imagine the state of your hair. A wave of self-consciousness hit you as you realized that you never wanted Yunho to see you like this in the first place. You ran a hand through your tangled hair, attempting to smooth it down, all while silently cursing Mingi for his well-intentioned meddling. Despite your embarrassment, a small part of you couldn't help but feel touched by Yunho's kindness.

"Hey, Y/N? I can't seem to find a pot. Where do you keep them?" Yunho’s question snapped you back to reality, and you felt a rush of embarrassment at the thought of him rummaging through your kitchen drawers.

"Oh! Sorry, they're in the cabinet above the sink," you answered, your voice still a bit raspy. You scooted over to help Yunho, determined to reach the pot yourself. However, as you approached the cabinet, the upper drawers seemed to tower above you, mockingly out of reach. Undeterred, you stretched up on your tiptoes, your fingers barely grazing the cabinet door. You could feel Yunho's presence behind you, probably watching with a mix of amusement and concern. Stubbornly, you extended yourself further, managing to hook your fingers onto the rim of the cabinet. As you strained to reach for a pot, you suddenly felt a bit lightheaded - likely a combination of your fever and the sudden vertical movement. Your balance wavered slightly, and you instinctively tightened your grip on the cabinet, determined not to embarrass yourself further in front of Yunho.

Just as you felt yourself starting to sway, you heard Yunho's deep voice behind you, tinged with a mix of amusement and concern. "I can't help you if you won't let me."

Before you could respond, you felt his warm presence directly behind you. His chest was almost touching your back as he effortlessly reached over your head, easily grasping the pot you had been struggling to reach. The proximity sent a shiver down your spine, and you were suddenly very aware of how small you felt next to him. As he lowered the bowl, his other hand gently steadied you by your waist. "Easy there," he murmured, his breath tickling your ear. "We don't want you falling and getting even sicker, do we?"

You turned to face him, your cheeks burning - though whether from embarrassment, your fever, or Yunho's closeness, you couldn't quite tell. "Thanks," you managed to mumble, taking the pot from his hands. Your fingers brushed against his, and you felt a jolt of electricity at the contact.

Yunho's eyes crinkled with a soft smile. "Anytime. Now, how about you sit down and let me take care of the rest? Doctor's orders." Despite your stubbornness, you found yourself nodding. You placed the pot on the stove, and moved towards the couch, secretly grateful for his care and attention.

As you settled onto the couch, you pulled out your phone from your hoodie's pocket. Your fingers flew across the screen as you typed out a message to Mingi:

You: You absolute little shit. Why the fuck would you send Yunho over?! I look like a zombie raccoon that's been hit by a truck. I swear I'm going to kill you... right after I thank you. Maybe. If I'm feeling generous. Which I'm not right now. 🤬😤💀

You hit send, a mix of embarrassment, anger, and reluctant gratitude swirling in your chest. Despite your annoyance, you couldn't help but smile a little at Mingi's well-intentioned meddling.

Your phone buzzed almost immediately with Mingi's replies:

Mingi: You're welcome, you ungrateful bitch! 😘 Have fun with your sexy doctor. I, on the other hand, will be getting my guts rearranged tonight. So don’t wait for me! Too bad you can't ride that Yunho rollercoaster because of your cold, but hey, at least you've got him to role play with you! 😉

Mingi: Remember, the best way to sweat out a fever is vigorous physical activity. I'm sure he can help with that. 😮‍💨

You: I told you no sex on the first date!!! I hope his dick is small and he can't fuck!!! 😤

You smirked as you sent the message, feeling a mix of satisfaction and lingering embarrassment. Your attention was quickly drawn back to the kitchen as you heard the clatter of utensils and the gentle simmering of soup. Your phone buzzed again, but before you could check Mingi's response, you heard Yunho's voice from the kitchen. "Soup's ready! Are you comfortable out there?"

You quickly pocketed your phone, your playful argument with Mingi momentarily forgotten as you focused on the care and attention Yunho was showing you. "Yeah, I'm comfortable," you called back, snuggling deeper into the couch cushions.

Yunho appeared a moment later, carefully carrying a steaming bowl. He set it down on the coffee table in front of you with a flourish. "Here you go! My grandma's secret recipe. It'll have you feeling better in no time." You smiled gratefully, picking up the spoon and dipping it into the soup. The liquid was a murky brown color, with unidentifiable chunks floating in it. You hesitated for a moment, then brought the spoon to your lips. As soon as the soup touched your tongue, you had to fight the urge to spit it out. It was... terrible. The taste was a bizarre mix of overly salty and oddly sweet, with a bitter aftertaste that clung to your palate. You swallowed hard, trying to keep a neutral expression on your face. Yunho was watching you expectantly, his eyes bright with hope. "Well? How is it?" You opened your mouth, ready to lie through your teeth, when a chunk of something chewy and unpleasant slid down your throat. Before you could stop yourself, you started coughing and spluttering. "Oh no," Yunho said, his face falling. "Is it that bad?"

With tears in your eyes from the uncomfortable coughing session, you shook your head. "No, it's... it's good," you stammered, trying to catch your breath.

Yunho's concerned expression softened slightly, but doubt still lingered in his eyes. "Are you sure? You don't have to pretend if it's not good. I know my cooking skills aren't the best..."

You felt a pang of guilt at his crestfallen look. Despite the soup's awful taste, you couldn't bear to hurt his feelings when he had gone out of his way to take care of you. "Really, it's fine," you insisted, forcing a smile. "It just went down the wrong way. I'm sure it'll help me feel better in no time." Yunho's face brightened at your reassurance, and you steeled yourself to take another spoonful of the concoction. As you raised the spoon to your lips, you silently prayed that your taste buds would miraculously adjust to the flavor. After all, how bad could it be if it came from a grandmother's recipe? But as you brought the spoon closer to your mouth, your stomach churned in protest. The pungent aroma wafting from the soup made your nostrils flare, and you felt a wave of nausea wash over you. Your hand trembled slightly, and you realized you simply couldn't force yourself to take another bite. Lowering the spoon back into the bowl, you looked up at Yunho with an apologetic smile. "I'm sorry, Yunho. I really appreciate you making this for me, but… it tastes fucking terrible.’’

Yunho chuckled and quickly covered his lips with his hand, trying to compose himself. "Fuck, I'm sorry... I know I'm not the best cook but—" he trailed off, unable to contain his laughter. You couldn't help but join in, your own laughter bubbling up despite your illness. The tension in the room dissipated as you both giggled, the terrible soup becoming a shared joke between you. "I guess I won't be winning any cooking competitions anytime soon," Yunho said, his eyes twinkling with amusement.

"Maybe stick to dancing," you teased, feeling more at ease now that the truth was out. "But seriously, thank you for trying. It means a lot."

Yunho's smile softened. "Anytime. How about we order some real food instead?"

You smiled weakly at Yunho, "Actually, I'm not really that hungry," you admitted, your stomach still unsettled from the combination of your cold and the attempt at soup. "But thank you for offering."

Yunho's expression shifted to one of concern. "Oh, I'm sorry. I should have realized you might not have much of an appetite. Is there anything else I can do to help you feel better?"

You felt a warmth in your chest at his genuine care. "Just having you here is nice," you said softly, then quickly added, "But maybe we could watch a movie or something? If you're not too busy, that is."

Yunho's face lit up with a gentle smile. "That sounds perfect. I've got nowhere else to be. Let's find something light and fun to watch, okay?" You settled back into the couch, pulling your blanket closer around you as Yunho grabbed the remote. As he scrolled through the movie options, you felt a strange mix of comfort and nervousness. His presence was soothing, yet you couldn't help but be hyper-aware of every move he made. You silently hoped your stuffy nose wouldn't ruin the movie experience for both of you.

As Yunho continued scrolling through movie options, your phone chimed with a series of text notifications. You glanced at the screen to see multiple messages from Mingi popping up in quick succession:

Mingi: Actually, I've given it some thought. Don't let this damn cold cock-block you! 🍆 🍆 😏😏 You and Yunho should have some fun since I’m not around! 😋

Mingi: So with that being said! Time for some vitamin D(ick)! It's scientifically proven to boost your immune system. Trust me, I'm a doctor. 🤭😎

Mingi: Oh, and remember!!! Orgasms clear sinuses. It's basically medicine. 😏😏

You felt your face burning hotter than your fever as you quickly shoved your phone under a pillow, praying Yunho hadn't seen any of Mingi's increasingly explicit messages.

"Hey, I saw my name on your screen. Everything okay?" Yunho asked, his eyebrows raised in curiosity. Your heart skipped a beat, realizing he had caught a glimpse of Mingi's suggestive messages.

You fumbled for words, trying to come up with a plausible explanation that wouldn't make the situation even more awkward. "Oh, it's just... Mingi being Mingi," you said with a nervous laugh, hoping to brush it off. "You know how he can be sometimes."

Yunho's lips quirked into a small smile. "Yeah, I do know. Should I be worried about what he's saying?"

You shook your head quickly, perhaps a bit too eagerly. "No, no! It's nothing. Just... silly stuff. You know him."

Yunho nodded, but his eyes held a hint of amusement. "Alright, if you say so." You felt a mix of relief and lingering embarrassment as Yunho turned his attention back to the movie selection.

As you finally settled on a movie, you found it increasingly difficult to focus on the scenes. Your eyelids grew heavy, the fatigue from your illness weighing you down. You tried to stay awake, not wanting to be rude to Yunho, but the struggle was real. His presence beside your curled-up form was both comforting and distracting. His scent, a subtle mix of clean laundry and something floral, enveloped you. It was soothing, almost lulling you further into sleepiness. You found yourself unconsciously leaning slightly towards him, drawn to his warmth and the sense of security he provided. As you fought against the encroaching drowsiness, you couldn't help but feel a twinge of embarrassment. Here you were, sick and probably looking a mess, practically falling asleep on Yunho. Yet, a small part of you reveled in the closeness, in the care he was showing you. Your thoughts became increasingly fuzzy as sleep threatened to overtake you the movie fading into background noise as Yunho's presence became the most prominent thing in your awareness. Your eyelids grew heavier and you felt a gentle movement beside you. Yunho hesitantly put his arm around your shoulder, bringing your body slightly closer to him. The sudden warmth and proximity startled you into alertness, and you looked up at him questioningly.

His eyes met yours, a mix of concern and something softer, almost tender, in his gaze. "You looked like you were about to fall over," he explained softly, his voice barely above a whisper. "I just wanted to make sure you were comfortable. Is this okay?"

You felt a flutter in your chest, your heart rate picking up despite your fatigue. The gesture was so gentle, so caring, that it momentarily made you forget about your illness. You found yourself nodding, a small smile tugging at your lips as you allowed yourself to relax into his embrace. "Oh... yeah, it's alright," you murmured softly, feeling a knot form in your stomach. Your heart began racing, its rapid beats echoing in your ears. The sudden closeness to Yunho, while comforting, also sparked a wave of nervous energy through your body. "But maybe it's not a good idea for me to be so close?" you almost whispered. "I wouldn't want you to get sick."

Yunho's arm tightened slightly around you, and you could feel the rumble of his soft chuckle. "Don't worry about me," he said, his voice low and reassuring. "I've got a strong immune system. Besides, taking care of you is more important right now." His words sent a warmth spreading through your chest, conflicting with the guilt you felt about potentially passing on your illness. You opened your mouth to protest again, but Yunho gently shushed you. "Just relax," he murmured, his thumb tracing soothing circles on your shoulder. You looked up at him, trying to read his face and decipher his motives. Of course, you were happy to have him so close, but this wasn't typical Yunho behavior towards you. Usually, you'd spend time together with him and Mingi, playing games or going out for drinks. On days when you felt particularly anxious, you'd retreat to your room, leaving the boys to their fun. But now, for the first time, it was truly just the two of you.

You took in his handsome features, realizing he was even more attractive up close. Relax? How could you possibly relax with your heart racing like this? How could you relax when all you could think about was closing the distance between you?

And then, in that charged moment, your body betrayed you. You sneezed. Not just a small, polite sneeze, but a loud, explosive one that sent droplets flying. You immediately covered your face with your hands, mortified.

"Oh God, I'm so sorry," you mumbled through your fingers, your face burning with embarrassment. You could feel Yunho's body shaking slightly, and when you dared to peek up at him, you saw he was trying to suppress his laughter. His laughter was contagious, and despite your embarrassment, you found yourself giggling too. The tension broke, and you both dissolved into a fit of laughter.

As your laughter subsided, Yunho wiped a tear from his eye and grinned at you. "Well, I guess that's one way to clear the air," he joked, his eyes twinkling with amusement.

You groaned, burying your face in your hands again. "I can't believe I just did that," you mumbled, your voice muffled.

Yunho chuckled, gently pulling your hands away from your face. "Hey, look at it this way," he said, his tone playful, "if I don't get sick after that sneeze, I'm probably immune to everything. You might have just given me superpowers."

You couldn't help but laugh at his ridiculous statement. "Oh yeah? What kind of superpowers are we talking about here?" you asked, playing along.

Yunho pretended to think for a moment. "Hmm... maybe the ability to detect oncoming sneezes within a five-mile radius? Or perhaps instant tissue summoning?" He wiggled his fingers dramatically. "Behold, the amazing Sneeze-Man!" His silly antics made you laugh even harder, momentarily forgetting about your embarrassment. In that moment, you felt incredibly grateful for Yunho's ability to turn an awkward situation into something light-hearted and fun.

As the laughter died down, a comfortable silence settled between you. You felt a surge of warmth and gratitude wash over you, and before you could second-guess yourself, you decided to voice your feelings. "Yunho," you started, your voice soft but steady, "I'm really happy you came."

You held your breath, heart pounding as you waited for his response. Yunho smiled softly at you, reaching for a tissue from the coffee table and gently handing it to you. "How could I not?" he replied, his voice warm and filled with an emotion you couldn't quite place. His eyes met yours, and there was a tenderness in them that made your heart skip a beat. "You're important to me, you know." The way he said it, the look in his eyes - it felt like he was hinting at something more, something deeper than just friendship.

You felt a flutter of hope in your chest, wondering if maybe, just maybe, your feelings weren't as one-sided as you'd thought. "You care about me?" you mouthed, your voice barely above a whisper. The words felt heavy on your tongue, laden with hope and uncertainty.

Yunho's eyes softened, a gentle smile playing on his lips. "Of course I do. Did you think I didn't?"

You hesitated, your gaze dropping to your hands. "I... I guess I always thought you only hung out with me because of Mingi. That you only came over to see him, and I was just... there."

Yunho's eyebrows furrowed, a look of surprise and something akin to hurt crossing his face. "What? No, that's not true at all," he said, his voice firm but gentle. He reached out, gently tilting your chin up to meet his gaze. "I come over because I want to see you, too. Mingi's my best friend, sure, but you're important to me in your own right."

You felt your heart skip a beat at his words and the intensity in his eyes. "Really?" you asked, hardly daring to believe it.

Yunho nodded, his hand moving to cup your cheek. "Really. I thought you knew that. I'm sorry if I ever made you feel like you were just an afterthought. You're so much more than that to me." The sincerity in his voice made your breath catch in your throat. You found yourself leaning into his touch, your earlier worries about getting him sick momentarily forgotten. You must have looked dumbfounded, your mouth slightly open, as you looked at him in pure shock. Yunho giggled at your expression, gently pulling you closer until you were almost leaning straight into his chest. You gasped, your eyebrows rising in surprise. Yunho looked you straight in the eyes, a mix of amusement and tenderness in his gaze. "What?" he asked softly, his voice tinged with a hint of playfulness. The closeness between you was overwhelming, his warmth enveloping you, his scent filling your senses. Your heart raced, torn between the desire to lean in further and the lingering worry. You found yourself frozen, caught between your feelings and your concerns, as you stared into Yunho's eyes, searching for answers to questions you weren't even sure how to ask.

Yunho's expression softened, a hint of vulnerability creeping into his features. He took a deep breath, as if steeling himself for what he was about to say. "Y/N," he began, his voice low and earnest, "I... I like you. And not just in a friendly way." Your eyes widened in surprise, but before you could respond, Yunho continued, a slight blush coloring his cheeks. "I hope that's okay. That I like you, I mean. Because I do. A lot."

Your eyes widened even further, your mouth opening and closing as you tried to form a coherent response. Your brows furrowed in surprise, your mind racing to process Yunho's confession. You felt a mix of elation and disbelief, your heart pounding in your chest. "I... I..." you started, your voice barely above a whisper. The words seemed to catch in your throat, refusing to come out. You swallowed hard, trying to gather your thoughts. Your gaze flickered between Yunho's eyes and his lips, your own parted in an attempt to speak. Yunho waited patiently, his eyes never leaving yours, a mix of hope and nervousness evident in his expression.

"Fuck it," you muttered under your breath, barely audible. Then, gathering all your courage, you looked straight into Yunho's eyes and said, "I like you too." The words tumbled out in a rush, your voice trembling slightly with emotion and nervousness. "I really, really like you." As soon as the words left your mouth, you felt a wave of relief wash over you. Your heart was still racing, but now it was from excitement rather than anxiety.

Yunho's face lit up with a brilliant smile, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "I'm so glad," he murmured, his voice filled with genuine happiness. Yunho's arm fell from your shoulders to your waist, gently wrapping around you and pulling you closer. "So..." Yunho continued, his voice taking on a playful tone that made your heart skip a beat. "What do you think about putting some of Mingi's... unconventional health advice to the test?" He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively, causing a burst of laughter to escape your lips despite your best efforts to maintain a serious expression.

You couldn't help but gasp, your hand flying to your chest in an exaggerated display of shock. "Yunho!" you exclaimed, your voice a mix of amusement and disbelief. "Don't tell me you actually read those messages!" You punctuated your words with a gentle, playful swat to his chest, your fingers lingering perhaps a moment longer than necessary.

Yunho's response was to throw his head back in laughter, the sound rich and warm, filling the room and making your heart swell with affection. When he finally composed himself, he leaned in close, his breath tickling your ear as he whispered conspiratorially, "Would it make you feel any better if I told you that our dear friend Mingi sent me an equally... enlightening set of texts?" His eyes twinkled with mischief as he pulled back to gauge your reaction, a smile playing at the corners of his lips.

Your eyebrows shot up in surprise, a mix of curiosity and amusement dancing across your features. "Oh really?" you asked, your voice laced with intrigue. "And what exactly did our Mingi have to say to you?" You leaned in closer, your eyes locked with Yunho's, eager to hear his response.

Yunho's eyes sparkled with mischief as he leaned in even closer, his lips nearly brushing against your ear. "Let's just say," he murmured, his voice low and husky, "that Mingi was very... thorough in his medical advice." He pulled back slightly, his gaze meeting yours. He cleared his throat, clearly a bit flustered. "But I think I'd rather focus on what you want, not Mingi's wild ideas."

A warmth spread through your chest at his words. Despite the playful atmosphere, there was a tenderness in Yunho's eyes that made your heart race. "And what if..." you began, your voice barely above a whisper, "what if I want to test Mingi's theories?"

Yunho's eyes widened, a mix of surprise and excitement flickering across his face. "Well, if that's what you want... I'm more than happy to oblige." His hand gently cupped your cheek, his thumb tracing soft circles on your skin as he gazed into your eyes, silently seeking permission. You leaned in, your heart racing with anticipation. But just as your lips were about to meet Yunho's, you felt an all-too-familiar tickle in your nose. Your eyes widened in panic.

"Oh no," you managed to whisper, before turning your head away at the last second. "ACHOO!" The sneeze erupted, loud and forceful, completely shattering the romantic moment.

Yunho jerked back in surprise, blinking rapidly. For a moment, you both sat in stunned silence, the abrupt shift from intimate to awkward leaving you both at a loss for words. Then, as if on cue, you both burst into laughter. Yunho's shoulders shook as he chuckled, while you buried your face in your hands, your giggles muffled but unmistakable.

"Well," Yunho said, wiping tears of mirth from his eyes, "I guess your cold isn't quite ready to let us test those theories just yet."

You peeked at him through your fingers, your face flushed with both embarrassment and amusement. "I'm so sorry," you mumbled, though you couldn't help but smile.

Yunho gently pulled your hands away from your face, his eyes twinkling with affection. "Don't be. I think it's safe to say that this is a moment we'll never forget."

As your laughter subsided, Yunho pulled you into a warm embrace. "How about we put those theories on hold for now and focus on getting you better first?" he suggested softly.

You nodded, snuggling into his chest. "That sounds perfect," you replied, feeling grateful for Yunho's understanding and care. As embarrassing as the moment had been, you couldn't help but feel that it had only brought you closer together.

♡│if you enjoy my writing please consider supporting me by tagging and reblogging│

[spider-man-199999]

The bracelet pt 2

pairing: Nathan Drake x Reader

word count: 4,4 K

warnings: 18+; smut; public sex; unpotected sex

summary: You meet Nathan while he's working at the bar. He recognizes you and tries to steal your bracelet because he knows you're filthy rich. Instead, you manage to steal his heart.

Read part 1 here!

a/n: I didn't proof read the smut part but there goes nothing!

A couple of months went by since Nate decided to disappear into thin air. It was such a pitty that it had to end before it even began, which made your already broken heart ache even more. People say the best remedy in such cases is to drown yourself in so much work. That was precisely what you wered trying to do. You spent most of your days in the hotel, deciding the lobby and bar could use a renovation. Not that it looked bad before, but you needed a fresh start with this place. Your ex was not very keen on the idea of change but reluctantly agreed to let you do as you pleased, as long as it would keep you busy. So, two months after the start of this ambitious project, you were standing in the brand-new lobby of The Ritz-Carlton. You did your best to keep the spirit and style of the building but with a few modern touches of technology, which appealed so much more to the guests. The hotel was more busy with events than ever before, weddings, galas, balls, charity events, all because of the work you had but in. Bussiness was really picking up, The Ritz-Carlton had turned in the hottest spot in New York.

Besides the undeniably significant time and effort you had dedicated to the marketing of the place, your personal life seemed like it was put on hold. The paparazzi had been sneaking around town, trying to catch a sight of you doing something mildly interesting. However, they would fail miserably to this task. All of the recent news about you were only in regards of The Ritz-Carlton and event you had organized, praises on your astonishing work. Occasionall pictues of you and some friends clothes shopping would appear here and there but nothing major or scandalous.

At other times, late at night when you were laying in your king-sized bed and staring the ceiling, while the city lights shined through the thin curtians of your bedroom, your mind couldn't help but wander. And somehow it would always end up on Nate. Restlessly wondering what he was doing, where he was. But wherever he was, whatever he was doing, the only place you knew for sure he was never going to leave, was your head. After his departure you didn’t really have any interest in dating, even declining a few date offers from some very wealthy and famous people. Trying to mingle was not necessarily a bad thing, but every time such thoughts popped up in your head, you’d look out the window and see the faint sparkles of the same stars that Nate spent hours talking about. It made you feel nostalgic, knowing no one else could ever take you on a date and make something casual appear so fun. That alone made you give up on the idea of pursuing someone else, at least for the time being.

And while you were busy buraying your head into the piles and piles of demanding and much nessecary work, Nate himself had very different plans. He took the task of becoming wealthy to heart and persused that with the first opportunity that he stumbled upon. That was exactly why he took up Sully's proposal to work together and left. He left for long, but not for good. Now that he had a few dollars in his pocket, he decided it was time to make his advancment towards you showing you his brand new persona. His heart was filled with excitemet and anxiety, he knew he was gone for a long time but he hoped that you had kept your promise and waited for him. He was trying his best to keep up with the news about you, reading every newspaper, magazine, interview. All this time he was thinking of you, dreaming of you. The man wanted to tell you everything, to explain where he went, to watch your fascinated eyes sparkle while he told you the story of his adventure with Sully. So, as soon as he came back to New York, he stated working on his new, expensive image. He changed his wardrobe, his car, he rented out a new place. A whole new man by the looks of it, but not in his heart, not in his feelings for you. He renovated himself the way you were renovating The Ritz-Carlton. So, a month after he came back, a month after all the work, he decided it was finally time to approch you.

The day seemed like any normal day for you, sitting at your desk in the office of the hotel, filling in the upcoming events in the callendar. You checked on the progress of the current agenda - a wedding. You made a few phone calls and after doing the diplomatic work, that took no longer than a couple of hours, you decided to run some personal errands, such as picking up drycleaning and other mundane tasks. You stored most of your personal items in a room in the hotel for covenience, but it did mean that sometimes, like today, you had to leave the place with a few zipper bags full of clothes. The weather was starting to get colder and colder with each day, warm and careless summer nights seemed like only a memory that was sitting close to your heart now. The leaves were starting to change colors but that did not make New York look any less beautiful on your side of town. But the chilly weather meant warmer clothes, and a need to add a lot more layers on your body before walkig outside.Fortunately enough the sweather dress you had on was still going to do the job if you to put a coat on top, which annoyed you to an unbelieveble extent. It just meant more weight on you as you carried the cleaned clothes all the way back to your apartment. Holding the, what felt like an ungodly amount of weight of clothes over you shoulder, you walked out of the building. You were met by a gigantic rose bouquet, probably 50 roses or more, right in front of your face, held up by someone who you couldn't quite see. You shook your head, moving past the person and walking away.

"Hey, hey, Y/N, come on" you heard from behind you, the voice was somehow familiar but you couldn't link it to a face for the first few seconds.

You turned around, freezing in your spot, but not because of the low temperature outside.

"I've been standing here for hours and you won't even say hi" he laughed, moving to hold the bouquet in only one of his arms "You have no idea how many excited screechings I had to go through, followed by disappointed looks. Have I really become this unattractive?"

You were still frozen in your tracks while he went on, trying to process the sight in front of your eyes combined with the information in your brain. Your head felt like it was spinning and everything was somehow like it was in a haze.

"I think you managed to break me" you finally spoke. And it was the truth, the shock had taken over your body. It felt like you were dreaming. Did you accidentally fall asleep in your hotel room? You couldn't really tell.

"Well, I was hoping for more of an excited running into my arms, maybe even shedding a happy tear."

"Nate what the actual hell?"

It finally got through to you. Nathan Drake was standing right there, in front of you, a bouguet of 50 roses in his hands. He was dressed in a black tuxedo that hugged his body perfectly, his dark hair was styled back with gel. He looked even better than you remembered, making your heart beat so fast that you felt like you were going to faint. He laughed softly at your shocked reaction, making a few steps towards you.

"If you're not going to hug me, can I hug you at least?" He asked, wrapping the free arm around your waist and pulling you into his chest.

You wrapped your own free arm around him, your head rested against his body as you closed your eyes. You still couldn't believe he was really there, but the warmth of his torso was proving you otherwise. Hot streams of tears rolled down your cheeks, your emotions prevailing.

"Oh my god is that Dior?" you sniffled softly against his chest once you opened your eyes, them landing on the fabric of his clothes.

"I had to impress you." he shrugged and let go of you, brusbing a tear from your face. "There they are, the trears!" he chuckled.

You shook your head in disbelief, taking a step back from him. You had so many questions to ask, it felt like your head was going to explode, followed by the rest of your body. A cool breeze blew past the two of you, making your hair softly sway to the side while you held eye contact with him. It kind of brought you back into reality, in your dreams it was never cold, just endless summer.

"I have so many things to ask-" you started, but were cut off by the flowers being shoved in your face.

"Take these, my back hurts, I've been carrying them for so long"

"I have 3 bags of drycleaning in my hands, literally" you whined to him, moving the bags to your front and with a swift motion placing them over your forearm.

"Well in such case, why don't we take my car and you can ask anything you'd like?" he offered, reaching in his pocket and taking out the keys to unlock a black Mercedez GL that was parked on the street next to the two of you.

"That's your car?"

"Yes" he replied shortly, opening the back door and placing the roses inside gently.

"Who are you? What did you do to Nate?"

He laughed at your response, taking your bags off of you and putting them in the car as well before he grabbed your hand and pulled you towardws him. Like the gentleman he was, his arm wrapped around your waist before he held the passenger door for you, closing it after you sat inside.

"Can I ask my questions now?" you asked once the two of you drove off in an unknown to you direction.

"You can ask and ruin my very cool bad ass story about how I have money now or..." he said, turning his head towards you with a playful spark in his eyes and and a cheerful smile. "You could wait for us to get where I'm taking you and let me explain everything."

"Yeah I think I preffer asking, actually"

He shook his head and laughed at you, stopping at a red light.

"Okay fine, but you're totally killing the vibe."

"Okay I'll ask only one question now and you can tell me your mindblowing story whenever you think is best."

"We have a deal."

"Fine, then, why didn't you warn me about leaving? It was kind of scary to just have you stop showing up to work one day."

Heavy silence followed after your question echoed into the car. You turned your head to stare at his expression, studying his side profile. You could see his brows furrow while he thought of the answear, one arm let go of the wheel, elbow against the armrest on the car door while he rubbed a finger under his nose, his hand covering his mouth. He kind of seemed nervous.

"Well, honestly it wasn't something I planned to happen, it just did." he said finally.

It was your turn to furrow your brows now, but in utter confusion.

"You make it sound like you were abducted"

"More like recruited? I didn't have the time to find you and explain everything, and it's not like I have your number to call. You wanted to keep things professional between us. And I couldn't even think about explaining anything back then, you know? I wasn't really sure what was going to happen either."

"But it was scary. We didn't know if you were alive or not, you could have gotten into an accident or something, I had no information on you. I made the restaurant manager call you and your phone was turned off, I called in all the hospitals in the region around the hotel and around your apartment for you."

"I didn't know you were so worried."

"I was, I felt horrible and responsible. For a moment I thought about calling the police and tell them you were missing."

"Gosh, you care so much about me? It's almost as if you like me or something?" he joked, trying to break the tense atmosphere.

"Oh my god" you whispered in annoyance, laughing softly at his words.

It was odd, you never imagined yourself actually being into someone like him, someone so different to the men you were used to dating. But there you were, in his car, following him with no direction to wherever he pleased to go. Before you even had time to try and continue this conversation, he parked the car and turned the engine off.

The second you stepped out of the car, you were greeted by the sounds of waves crashing into land and the fresh smell of salt water. It was already late in the evening when Nate picked you up from the hotel, which meant it had gotten cold enough outside to make you shiver, even without the soft breeze that was blowing. You looked around, your attention immediately captured by the flickering lights of the amusement park on Coney Island. Unfortubately for you, who got excited from the thought of riding some of the rides with Nate, even if it meant you would look like crazy people wearing something so formal there, the park was closed and everyone was long gone. Your head turned to look for Nate in confusion, seeing him stand next to you with his hands in his pockets. He reached out a hand for you, taking yours and motioning for him to follow you. And you did, once again, follow him without asking any questions. He lead you towards the beach, an area that was unfamiliar to you. Soon you reached a big bell tent, open and inside there was a set-up simillar to your first date night with him - poof chairs, blankets, fairly lights. He walked you inside, helping you sit on one of the poof chairs and plopping down on one himself. You coudln't lie, it was so thoughtful, so beautiful and romantic. For the second time this cocky, slightly annoying man had left you speechless. You were so mesmerized by the scenery that you didn't even notice him stand and take out a bottle of champage out of somewhere and pour it in two glasses. You took one of them, clicking it with his before taking a sip.

"Nate this is... I don't even know what to say."

"Don't get used to it, it's my apology for leaving the way I did." He sat down next to you

"Well that was anticlimatic"

"I didn't mean it that way." he rolled his eyes, placing the glass on the ground. "I wanted this to be special, we haven't seen each other in so long and in my head this whole thing was going to happen in the summer but plans got delayed."

"Is now the time for you to tell me the amazing story of Nathan Drake's adventure?"

"You bet it is!" he laughed.

And he did tell you everything, about his brother and about Sully. He he went into great detail about everything that he went through in the last few months. And while he was speaking, you were going through every possible emotion you could think of, listening with your jaw practically on the floor. He would laugh at your reactions, copying your face to make fun of you.

"You're awful!" you would whine, hitting his chest playfully

"Oh, I'm awful? Why are you here then?"

"You're lucky, I like awful."

''You know..." he started, taking his glass and finishing the remaining content in it. "The whole time I couldn't really stop thinking about you."

Silence suddnely fell upon the two of you after his words, making your gaze turn from the pleasant view of the outside beach to the more pleasant one, his eyes.

"I thougut about you too" you whispered softly.

"It got the point where I couln't really... get rid of this" he reached for the inside pocket of his tux, taking out the diamond bracelet that you gave him.

It sparkled softly under the soft fairly lights around you. Your eyes stared at his hand, moving rapidly between his face and his palm. You couldn't believe your eyes. No matter how hard you tried, the damn bracelet somehow just wouldn't leave your life. Truthfully, you didn't really know what you were feeling in that moment. You were upset because you wanted to get rid of it at all cost, but in a weird, nostalgic way, you were glad to see it.

"Actually, I had it on me the whole time, to remind me of you." he spoke after he noticed your state.

Suddenly all the negative associations you had with the expensive item melted away and were replaced by the hearthwarming feelings his words brought. He put the bracelet on your wrist, making you shiver with the contact.

"Can I be honest about something?" you asked, your eyes fixed on the diamonds.

He nodded in response, making you look back at him.

"Truly, I've never met anyone so... romantic?"

"After everything you thought THAT was romantic?"

"No, I mean this whole thing. The flowers, the beach, the bracelet. This is more romantic than a proposal, and I've been proposed to... twice."

"The beach was actually a reference to something else." He mumbled before taking a sip from his glass.

It made you think for a second and suddenly the memory of your first intearaction came to the surface, making you blush.

"You dog!" you laughed, looking at him with the side of your eye.

He laughed as well, laying on his side, turning his body in your direction.

"Come here." he said, reffering to his chair.

You did your best to move over to him eleganly, not sure how well it worked out judging by his giggles. Or maybe he was just tipsy from the champagne? You sat down next to him, having him wrap an arm around your shoulders like he did on your first date. Your head rested against his chest while you snuggled up against him, only now realizing how actually cold you were before that. You closed your eyes, listening to the rythmic sound of his heartbeat as your hand rested against his stomach. You couldn't tell how long you sat there like this before you started playing with his tie. He noticed your actions, placing a soft kiss on your forehead before his hand travelled down to your waist, drawing soft circles on it. In the moment of silence, you could hear the sound of waves crashing in the background and it felt so calm, so perfect, even. Nate's hand was now slowly travelling up and down your back, going further down with each movement, until it finally landed on your butt. You giggled into his chest when you felt his hand there, making you look up at him. The both of you stared into each other's eyes for what felt like forever, until his lips finally crashed into yours. The kiss was passionate and long, it tasted like champagne and it was enough to make your head spin, while your hand left the tie alone and moved to his shoulder. His grip on your ass was now harsh and needy, trying to pull your hips closer to his own while he was squeezing. You broke the heated kiss to catch your breaths, suddenly feeling shy because of the butterflies that were going wild to the rythm of your heartbeats. You started kissing his jawline, softly, to hide that fact, your hand loosening the tie around his neck. Nate was quick to get out of his jacket, throwing it on the floor. His hands found their way back to your body, touching and grabbing everything he could. You took off his tie, placing it over your own head. He laughed at your act, pulling you by that same tie now and kissing you hungrily again. This time he was even more passionate, if that were even possible, his tongue danced against yours while his hands grabbed your wast and pulled you over on top of him, making you sit on his lap. Your hands were grabbing his hair, ruining the way he had styled it. After a few minutes of making out, you broke the kiss for air again. Now he looked more like the Nate you remembered, no fancy tuxedo, no tie, just a normal, very handsome guy. You smiled at him, undoing the bottons on his shirt while his hands roamned around your body. Once the shirt was undone and open, you had to bite your lip at the sight of his body. You knew he was toned, you just didn't know he was actually shredded as well. He smiled confidently at your reaction, but you kissed him before he could make the snarky comment you knew was already formed in his head.

You were growing more and more needy for him by the minute and he knew. Truth was, the feeling was mutual. He spent too many nights alone in bed thinking about this, thinking about you, imagining the exact moment your hands would be in his hair, his lips would be on yours. He couldn't help but be impatient, try to push you towardws going further and further into the heat of the moment. And while he was so lost in this timeless dance of your tongues together, the reality of his deepest desire being better than anything he could ever imagine, you had to break the kiss, making him moan with annoyance.

"Can we really do it here?" You asked, out of breath

"What's stopping us?" he asked back, attacking your jaw and neck with his lips.

"Well it's kind of... public?"

"You were the one.... who wanted.... sex on the beach" he said between kisses.

"The cocktail, Nate"

"I suggested the cocktail, you wanted the other thing"

"You really need to learn when to shut up"

"You need to learn how to lose an arguement"

You rolled your eyes at him but kissed him again, your hands undoing his belt and pants. He was smiling through the whole kiss, which made you even more annoyed with his cockiness. Speaking of cock, his was painfully hard, and you could tell by the way it twitched when your hand accidentally brushed against it in the process of unzipping his pants. You wasted no time, your eagerness was matching his and the thrill of someone catching you in the act was sending a type of feeling through your veins that you couldn't remember feeling before. Was it adreanline? Or were you just incredibly turned on? You slipped his member out of the boxers as well, giving it a few strokes with your hand which resulted in a hitched breath, followed by moans from Nate. He wasn't going to waste time either, hand slipping under your dress and pulling your panties to the side so he could touch you as well. The kiss was broken at that point, both of you looking into eachother's eyes. You two knew already there was no need for any foreplay since you were almost dipping on his fingers now and without saying anything, he grabbed your waist ang guided you to hover above him. The poof was a bit too unstable to help you with balancing on your knees but it had to do. Your hand held his dick in place before you slipped down on it slowly, making Nate throw his head back in ecstacy.

"This is so much better than I expected" he said holding you down while you were adjusting to the size.

It didn't take you long, pecking his lips before you started moving your hips in circles while you watched the expression on his face change from sweet and loving to lustful. He helped you move up and down his lenght because your mind was now too preoccupied and overstimulated to have such a complex thought about rythim and movement. It was all him and him only, nothing else in the world existed but this. He pulled your chess to his while you bounced on him, his hands now on your ass to guide you while his moans filled your ear. You weren't holding back on moaning or saying his name either, it simply felt too good to even try. Your hands were touching his muscles while you moved, your lips nibbling and biting on his neck. At some point your nails were digging into the skin of his chest and arms, but your mind was too clouded to even notice that. All you could really feel was the way he stretched your walls, his own hips now moving upwards to be fucking into you. You bit on his shoulder as you felt your walls tightening around him, and from the looks of it, he was feeling that you were close as well. He groaned your name deciding it was a good idea to push your hips down while he slammed himself into you, making you yelp as he hit a spot you didn't know existed. It felt so good you were having doubts it was real. You started screaming his name, feeling yourself finally release onto him while he moaned and moved. His hand travelled up from your ass to your hair, grabbing a handful and pulling you into a very tight hug while he moaned and groaned. You felt him cum inside you just as you were done with your orgams, your body collapsing onto his. You sat like this for a while, panting, hearts wildly beating.

"You have to tell me where you get your clothes dry cleaned, my pants are ruined"

"Jesus Christ, Nathan! I just gave you an orgasm and you're thinking about dry cleaning?"

"Yeah because of that orgasm, my pants are ruined, we orgasmed everywhere!"

You sat up to look at him, your hands on his chest while you shook your head.

"Okay fine. Our second date will be at the dry cleaners."

"Technically this was the second date."

"I hate you, so much."

"Oh, darling, we both know you don't."

[blueishspace]

Looped sun 7

Loop #255

Pearl: What do you mean you spent the last 2 loops redstoning mate?

Mumbo: Grian was better at redstone then me! I couldn't possibly let that stand!

Pearl: Uh huh.

Mumbo: But finally balance is restored.

Pearl: But wasn't it a bit boring? To just do that?

Mumbo: Well I didn't just do that. I built some stuff, got better at it.

Pearl: But?

Mumbo: I guess I was a bit of a spoon. Overdone it... But I don't mind it, I like experimenting with creating machines using redstone! It's fun for me.

Pearl: Hmm... What if you tried to learn other types of redstone?

Mumbo: Other types?

Pearl: You know you have very distinct type of redstone.

Mumbo: Do I?

Pearl: Yeah, maybe you could try to learn other ways of doing redstone. Even of you keep your own style maybe it could be a fun experiment.

Loop #256

Mumbo: Ehm... Zed? Are you home?

Zed: Hello there Mumbo! Came to see my cave of contraptions? It's a bit empty right now but -

Mumbo: Actually I wanted to ask if I could join in?

Zed: Wait, really?

Mumbo: Yeah? It sounded like a fun...way to do some redstone.

Zed: Hmmm I never tought about this happening...hmm, alright!

The dual Mumbo-Zed cave of contraptions ended up being the most interesting base of the season.

Loop #258

Pearl: How do you plan to learn redstone from Tango?

Mumbo: Well... I'll join in decked out!

Pearl: You can't just ...ask him to join in.

Mumbo: No no! I have a plan! I took last loop to learn to play the boardgame version...!

Pearl: ..why?

Mumbo: I'll show you!

Mumbo: Hey Tango, what are you doing here?

Tango: Oh just planning for a new minigame idea.

Mumbo: Oh...same!

Tango: Oh? Do you want to share.

Mumbo: Ehm... do you know the boardgame decked out?

Tango: ... Yeah, I didn't think you would Mumbo!

Mumbo: Was thinking of creating a version of it using redstone.

Tango: No way, that was what I was thinking!

Mumbo: N-no way! We should totally do it together!

Tango: That sounds like a great idea.

Tango: Me and Mumbo are proud to finally show you, Decked Out!

Pearl: ... Mumbo?

Mumbo: Y-yeah?

Pearl: You are...scary good at manipulation.

Mumbo: I am?

Pearl: What do you call that?

Mumbo: Well I...uh

Pearl: Well?

Mumbo: Oh pants.

Loop #259

Grian: Why have you given Mumbo this idea?

Pearl: Because it sound smart at the time mate.

Grian: This is the worst possible timeline.

Pearl: Because Doc and Mumbo have turned Hermitcraft into a redstone nightmare?

Grian: No, because it's a little humid ... Of course It's because of Doc and Mumbo!

Loop #263

This time Grian had started off towards the end of Evo, just in time to go to the end, the plan was simple: Defeat the dragon at record speeds qnd depending on what variant of the watchers it was either join them or tell them off and possibly go sun titan mode on them if they pushed. The plan had lasted 5 seconds until he recognized a familiar mustache on the dragon's snout thing.

Grian: Mumbo!?!?

Mumbo: Hi G... I think It's because of the end crystals back in Last Life.

Grian: Holy... you...

Mumbo: ... Do you think you could stay here? It's a bit lonely here...

Grian: Yeah, of course Mumbo.

Loop #267

Scott opened his eyes to a big room, by the drapery he could tell he was a noble of some kind, looking by how fancy the decor was it was likely some form of royalty. He was also wearing some gloves which was weird considering how warm it was inside. Then he heard two knocks and a voice.

Pearl: Scott? Scott?

Scott: Gem? What's wrong?

Pearl: Do you wanna build a snowman?

And Scott realized exactly were he was.

Scott: I can't believe it.

Pearl: Shut up.

Scott: Gem is Kristoff?

Pearl: I said shut up mate.

Scott: Ah! Never.

Loop #269

Grian: What's with that face? ... What did you loop as last time.

Pearl: Selene.

Grian: The Moon titaness?

Pearl: Yep, you aren't the only that can go titan mode anymore.

Grian: ... If ... If this is linked to our winner titles. And Scar's is the Earth does that mean he is eventually going to end up... looping as Gaia?

Pearl: Oh ... Oh I see what you mean. Yeah that is... Horrific.

Loop #271

Mumbo was an enderman hybrid with amnesia, Scar was a goat hybrid president and Grian was absolutely done with looping into the dsmp. He knows It's because they are both minecraft servers but still...

Loop #272

Mumbo: I don't know mate, are you sure? I never watched tried third life... I'm kinda used to Last Life.

Grian: Ah don't worry you'll do fine!

Mumbo: I... alright, I'll try it.

Grian and Scar had managed to steal the banner when Ren came after them with his army. Mumbo knew they could take care of themselves but he couldn't just...do nothing. It took him seeing the shocked faces of the red army to realize had accidentally shifted to his ender dragon form. At least Scar and Grian looked excited.

Loop #275

Grian woke up in a room he had never seen before... wait. No.

Grian: Scott? Is this another-

Scott: Welcome to the second ever loop proofed escape room!

Grian: ... No.

Scott: Pearl helped built this one.

Gria : No!

Scar: I can't believe it took so long to finish that first room! ... I'm going to be last.

Scott: ... That wasn't the first room.

Scar: What?

Scott: You finished the entire escape room Scar.

Scar: ...

Scott: How does this stuff keep happening?

Loop #277

Grian: I've made a severe and continuous lapse in my judgement.

Mumbo: What did you do?

Grian: In this loops Grumbot and NPG aren't sentient so I tried to merge the npc Grian AI with the Grumbot AI.

Mumbo sounds incredibly pained.

Mumbo: Why?

Grian: I don't know.

Prev Next First

[totothewolff]

Season of Love (8/?)

+18 | Toto x reader fem!teamprincipal, romance, comedy, and some good drama.

Summary: One night on a pier in Monaco, while admiring the sea under the night skies, you tell Toto: "I came to the conclusion that love is simply not meant for me." That's the answer to a question you have been asking yourself for the longest time. But what if he proved you wrong? Author's note: This is a multichapter Toto Wolff x team principal reader fic set along a season of F1. It's a very immersive story full of drivers, team dynamics, races, mystery, and smut. You just bought the Williams team, but nobody really knows who you truly are.

< Previous chapter | Masterlist | Next chapter >

The Color of Truth is Blue Arc Chapter 8: Safety car needed

Trigger warning: Child trauma, abuse.

Belgium

And to think Toto felt guilty enough about hiding from you his decision to get back with Susie and try to make things work with her, giving himself the hardest time for it while you had been married this whole time!

The two of you are truly made for each other since none of you have morals.

He wants to grab the helmet on the clear glass coffee table inside his remote office before him and smash it against it, but he contains himself. 

Instead, he stands up to pour himself a drink that's almost pure alcohol and just a bit of ice, frantically prancing around the room.

-

This GP is "hometown" for you guys. 

Mathew's assistant has zero problems fitting it into his busy schedule, so he can assist in your name.

It's not that you do much for the team, anyway. You are more like a figure to lift the morale and PR the team and its sponsors around. 

Mat looks excited to be at the paddock. He loves the attention he is getting. He remained as far from it as possible for obvious reasons, but now it seems like an excellent time to join in the fun. 

Mainly because he feels like it, and when he likes something, he has it.

Now that the real boss is in town, people need to get used to his presence and his long list of shenanigans.

Get a grip!

-

The weekend at Spa starts with the now-usual FIA meeting. On this occasion, everyone is on time. 

The group is gathered in the final rows of chairs in another world's saddest meeting room. As always, they are messing around while they wait for the meeting to begin.

—This carpeting looks out of a 70's Vegas casino —Seb mentions, looking around his feet.

—It's giving "cheap motel," —Charles adds.

—It's giving "crime scene" —Samanta joins in.

Toto and Fred enter the room, beverages in hand, gossiping. 

Woaff! Lewis notices that Toto looks rough. His hair is messy, and big dark circles are under his eyes. Also, he seems reddish on the cheeks. Is he drinking at work?! Lewis recognizes that kind of blush on him.

—It's giving "once someone died in here" —Checo jokes as he pictures a silhouette drawn with chalk while staring at the floor.

—It's giving "I think I saw this place in Law & Order" —Millie says.

—How many hours of L&O have you seen? —Mick changes the topic, knowing Millie is a fan.

—More than needed —she admits. 

—So you weren't joking when you said, "I go and put Law & Order on any device before a race as my race ritual"? —George looks at her, eyes widening and holding a giggle.

Sam interrupts as Millie is about to answer: —Elvis has arrived.

All their heads turn to the door as Matthew swags in.

—Armani ani ani ani —Millie sings Megan The Stallion style. —He looks so stylish in that suit! Hot!

—He is your boss, dude! —Oscar says and looks at her, chin up.

—And married to my wife! Who's also your boss. So more respect, please —Lando adds.

—Does that make you her father? —Sebastian jokes, pointing at the blonde.

—Are you Millie's dad?! —Lewis joins in, acting shocked.

—Dad?! —Millie turns in his chair to face Lando, wide eyes and arms reaching for a hug.

—You all stupid —Sam laughs, enjoying the exchange.

Mathew being the annoying ass he is, goes straight to her and drops in the chair next to Sam, placing his arm around her shoulders. —Amelia, hi! —Mat addresses her with a big-ass smile and stunning blue eyes staring at her.

—AMELIA?!! —everyone but Millie lets out in shock.

—How lovely to see you! —Sam greets him with a "fuck you!" gaze but answers with the sweetest voice.

—Yes, that's her middle name, you didn't know?! —Mat asks the group, pretending to be shocked, knowing she hates that name.

Then, the FIA deputy enters and asks Mathew to join him upfront since they are addressing the whole Lenkov situation and the new safety on paddock protocols with the drivers for the first time.

—Well, now that everything is clear, I will leave the microphone to Mr. De Vos to introduce himself...

—Yes, take off your shirt and tell us —Lando jokes in a low voice, next to Millie, discreetly bumping her and laughing low. 

Those fuckers.

-

Everyone looks bored as Fred goes forever after grabbing the mic to discuss the car skidding due to fluids and oil spills on the pitlane.

—No, you guys. I like this topic! I identify with it since I'm also fluid —Millie adds, all confident and open.

—Genderfluid? —Seb smiles big at her, eyes sparkling at her gutsy statement.

—I love the gender fluids —Lando jokes, with a cheeky innuendo as usual.

—I wouldn't mind some gender fluids instead of this, mate —Dani adds.

—I would have the gender fluids, please! —Mick jokes, pretending to raise his hand.

—I'm feeling my gender-fluids right now —Millie colorfully adds while looking at Mathew.

—What fluids is he talking about?! —George asks, serious, not recalling watching spots or brushes on the pitlane, unable to hear Fred accurately and utterly unaware of the jokes around.

—The genders —Seb and Millie answer simultaneously before bursting out laughing, watching a perplexed George. 

Everyone in the room turns their heads to them.

—Oh shit!

-

As soon as the doctors inform you that you can leave the hospital, your team moves you to the Manor, where Mathew insists you take a break and rest before putting a foot back on the paddock, much to your complaints.

He lets you know he will handle it while you are gone, and not enough "I'm fine!" on your part makes him change his mind.

Nothing good will come out of this with him there, you know that!

-

The press is desperate to get an interview out of Mathew, and the photographers already love him, a cloud of lens following him around.

With those looks, impeccable suit, and swag, who wouldn't want to snap his picture? 

But his security has him covered.

A new and hot Sky Sports reporter approaches him, and he lets her slide in, with a microphone in hand and a cameraman following her.

Mathew gives her an exclusive interview, instantly switching to his most charming, funny, and sweet persona. He shines under the lens, showing his big, bright smile with gorgeous teeth.

Mat reaches the reporter's ear when the interview finishes and the cameraman lowers the lens. —Tower Suite 1898 The Post, 7:00 p.m., don't be late. I'm fucking you in dark lingerie and ankle-strap black high heels.

She nods, all blushing, knees shaking at his invitation.

-

Okay, Toto can't resist it anymore. He promised he wouldn't do it, but he can't. It's driving him nuts.

He opens his iPad and smashes the keywords on the Google search bar, typing "Mathew De Vos."

A ton of links and information show up.

"Cambridge Faculty of Law Board Member, Masters in Corporate Law, PhD. in Law, former ONU ambassador, former Interpol Associate"

Toto closes those taps after reading them and moves to the next more frivolous ones.

"#4 on World's Richest Men, #2 Billionaires Under 30, #2 GQ's Stylish CEOs"

In all his status, Mathew appears married, and in most of his interviews, he always mentions his wife, you, which hurts him.

Okay, but what does Matthew do right now? Why buying an F1 team? There's nothing linking him or you to the sport. Could it be just for a hobby?

"Current investor and CEO of Little Heroes Global: Safeguarding Minors Around the Globe."

Okay, there's still no connection. Maybe it was just a good business deal? 

Toto keeps reading and then moves to trashier, gossipy sites.

Le Soir

Brussels, 2004.

Tragedy strikes De Vos family as helicopter crash kills parents, leaving 16-year-old son heir.

A devastating helicopter crash in the rolling hills of Belgium has claimed the lives of Victor and Lina De Vos, leaving their 16-year-old son, Mathew, the sole heir to their vast family fortune.

According to eyewitnesses, the De Vos family was on a routine flight from their estate in Wallonia to Brussels when the helicopter suddenly lost control and crashed in a nearby field. The accident occurred at approximately 10:45 a.m., with rescue teams arriving on the scene within minutes.

"It was a scene of utter devastation," said Alfred Van der Meer, a local farmer who witnessed the crash. "I saw the helicopter go down and then... grey clouds."

Victor De Vos, a wealthy businessman and billionaire, was 45 years old at the time of his death. His wife, Lina, was 42. 

The couple was known for their philanthropic efforts and various charitable organizations throughout Belgium.

Mathew De Vos, 16 years old at the time of the accident, is now the heir to his father's business empire and the family's Manor. The exact value of the estate is unknown, but insiders close to the family suggest that it could be worth hundreds of millions.

"We are still trying to come to terms with this tragedy," said Michel Droveb, his godfather, a family friend, and business associate. "But we are all relieved that Mathew is safe and will be able to carry on his parents' legacy."

As news of the tragedy spread, tributes poured in from around the world. "The De Vos family was a shining example of generosity and kindness," said King Leopold II of Belgium. "Their loss is a great blow to our nation."

Funeral services are scheduled for next week at the St. Michael's Cathedral in Antwerp.

In the meantime, Mathew De Vos has been taken under the wing of his family's trusted advisors and is expected to continue his parents' business endeavors.

As he begins his journey as one of the world's youngest billionaires, Mathew De Vos has vowed to honor his parents' memory by using his wealth to make a positive impact on the world.

"We will continue to give back to our community and support those in need," he said in a statement. "My parents would want nothing less."

The exact cause of the crash is still under investigation. 

Toto finishes reading the old entry on the news site, a bit pale and shocked. That may explain some of Mathew's attitude. 

He locks his iPad after indulging himself too much and thinks it's enough. Toto has more important things to do.

-

As soon as you are allowed to leave the bed, you go visit Mat's mom since you miss her very much. You walk there barefoot, feeling the cold wood and stone floors of the Manor all the way to the next wing.

She is peacefully lying in bed. The massive room is full of bright natural light, and a fresh and stunning bouquet of her favorite flowers is placed on the nightstand next to her, filling the room with a delicious scent.

You want to tell her all about your new life and the people you have met, and as you share everything about Toto with her, you get emotional and overwhelmed.

So when Mathew arrives there after searching for you, he finds you crying while holding her limp hand.

He comes closer and sits at the border of his mother's ICU hospital bed, placing himself between it and the armchair where you are sitting at. 

The room remains quiet, just the sounds of the life support pieces of equipment keeping his elderly mom alive, in a coma, but still.

He tenderly kisses her mother's temple before facing you, leaning his body in to wipe the tears sliding down your cheeks.

—Tell me what's hurting you to fix it? —compassion and care fill his eyes.

—This has no fix. Damage is done —you stare down at your hands before adding: —But going out to dinner can help me feel better.

He nods. —I know the place.

-

Sam joins you for breakfast at the Manor the following morning, where you tell her every detail about the plan, now being able to, and how it went.

—Then Pascal played one for the team again! —she says before grabbing a portion of her pancakes.

—I'm worried about him. I hope he is safe and well. —you express with deep concern, much to Mathew's dislike.

—Oh, he is. He let me know days ago —Mat says in the most nonchalant, neutral voice while picking his fruits.

—What?! Why didn't you tell me?! I've been worrying all these past days! —now you sound exasperated at him.

A "here we go!" face sets on Sam.

—You needed to rest! No further point! —Mat continues, still not caring, as if nothing was wrong.

—Stop telling me what I need! —you raise your voice at him, now you are mad!

He looks up and stares at you with an icy look but doesn't reply; he continues having breakfast as if nothing is happening.

One day, you will lose it with Mathew's controlling and psycho moves. 

You regain your composure and add: —This can't keep happening! I need to know the things that involve me right at the moment!

—Understood —it's all he says.

—And what about Lenkov? Any whereabouts? —Sam says, pushing topics, used to witnessing you fight.

-

You text Seb to let him know you are at the Manor now.

—I'm glad! But where's that?! Do you own a manor? It doesn't sound much like your style! Ah, and thanks for answering back!

—Sorry for the delay in replies! I was resting. Shit! I forgot you don't know about it. Let me ask Mat if you can pop by. He is very particular about who is allowed here.

—No worries! I can ask him myself. I'm watching him right here.

Seb puts his phone inside his red tracksuit pocket, scooters down the pitlane to Mat beside Michael, and chats casually with the men in German before asking him the question.

—Wait, Seb! 

Seb doesn't read your text. Seb takes Mathew entirely by surprise. 

Mathew allows him to visit you, sensing Vettel is kind and has some guts to reach him.

-

When you return to the Manor, feeling tipsy after drinking a lot in that sports bar where you watched the race in secret.

Your heart sank every time Toto appeared on screen, looking as handsome as ever but without acting playful in front of the camera.

Sebastian is already in the old drawing room, waiting for you and chatting with Mat in a friendly way, which is rare. Damn, time flew by!

—And there she is! Hello, drunk! —Seb greets you as soon as you enter the room.

Mathew sends you a cold look, which you defiantly ignore.

—Bee guy! —you reach Seb and give him a warm hug. —Podium, heh!

—I know! Third place! Not that bad for this old man?! Tell Millie to leave me to win sometime, one win this season, pretty please! —Seb smiles big at you.

—No way, Jose! I'm sorry for making you wait with this one! —you point to Mat with your thumb.

—Alcohol produces brain damage, and you need cold water and food! I see you two at the dining table.

Mat exits the room, annoyed; he hates alcohol, cigars, drugs, sugar, and everything that's unhealthy for the body.

—Does he always swags all moody like that? —Seb asks, following him with his eyes, raising his eyebrows.

—Oh yeah —you let out a giggle.

You love Vettel.

-

—And those are your parents, right? —Seb asks, observing the massive regal oil painting of a family of three hanging on the wall by the exquisite wooden crafted stairs before sensing the atmosphere changing.

He got offered a tour of the Manor.

—Yes —Mat answers solemnly, you two standing near Seb while he leans to peek. All alcohol is out of your system by this point.

—Do the eyes follow you around as you walk past? —Vettel jokes in the most Sebastian way possible.

A smile forms on Mathew's lips. —It sometimes shakes too. You know when father disapprovals! —he pats Seb a bit too hard on the back.

—It's a bit too much, isn't it? —you join in. Shruging your nose, looking at the old painting.

—Yeah —both men agree, letting out in unison.

—You were such a cute kid. What happened?! —Seb teases Mat.

—Life, life happened to me —he answers, more honest than joking, oblivious to Seb, clear to you.

Why is Mat acting open and friendly with him?

-

—Ta-dah! This is my room! —you invite Seb to hang out in a more private space, taking him to the last spot of the tour.

Mathew had already left to the wing of the Manor that is his. He always hides in there; sometimes, you even forget he exists or that you were supposed to live with him.

—So this is where you grew up? —Seb is curious and naturally funny, so he is already playfully peeking into your drawers, looking at the Polaroids on the wall, and checking the decor. —Oh wow, baby Sam!

He points to a picture where "kid Sam" and a younger Alexi, Mat, and you appear.

—Yeah, that's about when I arrived here, and no, I didn't grow up here —you shake your head several times. —I wish!

Now, Seb is confused. Mat just told him you two lived together "since you were kids." —Then, where?

—Here, take a sit —you invite him to hang on the sofa in front of the big stony fireplace as it lights the huge room. The night is fully set, and the air in the countryside is cold. —Bare along...

-

This story is not a happy one.

You will never forget that big old mansion in the woods where you grew up. Your oldest memories start there at age four.

You had no idea who your mom was; you had never met her, only your nanny, who cared for you and your baby sister, a cute five-month-old girl, a chubby, healthy baby with pink cheeks. 

You loved holding her; she always wrapped her fingers around your thumb and tried to get your long, shiny hair into her mouth, which made you giggle.

You let her play with your teddy bear; she is the only one allowed to grab "bon-bon." 

You love wrapping big bowties around its plushie neck, and your papa occasionally gifts you colorful and shiny ribbons.

-

Every day, you take lessons with a rigorous and cruel governess who teaches you manners and scolds you when you do things wrong, calling you an animal and a brute whenever she loses her patience with you.

You don't like how she treats you, but you don't notice anything wrong with it. It feels ordinary to you.

-

The following day, your nanny wakes you up early and tells you they have important guests coming over, and you must look pretty to welcome them. 

She combs your hair roughly and, in a rush, pulls it into a tight bun as instructed while you are on your feet on top of the makeup chair. 

She puts you into a puffy chiffon dress and starts applying you makeup, which you love. You like all those things: hairstyles, dresses, makeup, nails, glitter, and sparks. 

When you see yourself in the mirror, you look like a doll that belongs on a shelf as you stick your tongue out and make silly faces at your reflection.

She then takes you downstairs to your favorite room of the large house. The playroom is colorful and has many toys to play with; it's a shame you always play alone.

You go inside and grab a couple of plushies and a plastic tea set when you notice several stern and tall men watching you. 

You feel a little bit shy under their stares; among them is a man who looks intensely at you. 

He is a tall, silver-haired, muscular man with captivating eyes and a dangerous smirk that could charm the devil himself.

Standing next to him are gunmen and two large menacing dogs guarding him. 

Another group of gentlemen join him before they all enter your dad's office, a forbidden ground for you.

-

After a while, everyone exits the house's entrance door and leaves, but the silver-haired man stays longer. 

You have seen him before; he is your daddy's boss.

Sometimes, they have meetings, and whenever he is at the house, they get you all cute-looking and rushed downstairs.

He always asks for you and handles you expensive gifts every visit.

You get distracted by him bringing you cake; all you want is a slice. The merengue looks delicious and smells like vanilla.

Your dad and the man come closer to you. He greets you brusquely, caressing your cheek.

Now that you are near him, you look terrified at the two scary Dobermans monitoring your every move.

—They don't bite unless I command them to —He looks at the muscular animals. —So be a nice girl —he jokes with you. 

You reach closer to your dad's leg, trying to hide behind it, but he neither pats nor reassures you.

—Status on her training? —the silver-haired man asks.

—She is about to start it, sir.

—When it gets done, send her to me —he instructs with an authoritarian voice but nonchalant. 

He brushes his hand on your hair before he heads out of the big, beautiful wooden entrance door.

-

As the days go by, you start to spend more and more time studying with your governess.

That cruel woman seems to be under such stress of quickly teaching you many things, so she behaves even more viciously. 

Your German, French, and English lessons feel too much for your little brain. No six-year-old should feel this pressure on herself; all you want to do is play. 

You get moody and start to cry, not being able to take it more; you are tired!

Suddenly, you feel a painful sting on your cheek; your dad slapped you hard for whining. —Stop crying, behave! —He commands you.

And you do so.

-

You are in the staff's kitchen, sitting on a high barstool, legs swinging in the air, while the cook prepares the meal. 

You ask her to make you a sandwich, but she tells you you are no longer allowed bread or carbs. 

That kitchen leads outdoors to the massive gardens by a backdoor; it's a vast property. 

Another prominent building sits right across the field, in the distance, behind some bushes and trees.

You are not allowed out, and you are not allowed to go near there. 

But you are a curious and strong-willed girl, after all. 

You peek through the window and see two little boys and girls walking from room to room inside the other property. You want to go and play with them, as you are always among grown-ups.

The cook follows your gaze and rushes you out of the kitchen and back to the living area.

-

It's late at night, and you wake up to the sound of your stomach growling. 

The house is so quiet, as everyone is sleeping, and it's the perfect moment for you to sneak to get ice cream. 

You risk going to the kitchen after your curfew because you feel hungry from the small portions they have given you lately. 

For some reason, they have been measuring and weighing you daily.

You navigate the large house's hallways, avoiding making a sound. Your steps softly creak on the wooden floors unnoticed, which is why you are barefoot, which is also not allowed.

You finally make it to the kitchen and, on your tiptoes, take the big bucket of ice cream out of the freezer and to the countertop. 

You are short for your age, which makes you look younger and even more adorable. You are such a cute, tiny girl.

You hop on the stool and eat the chocolate ice cream straight from the bucket with a big spoon, licking it; chocolate goes all over your collar and lips.

If the governess saw you doing this, she would lock you in the closet. She had done it before and made you spend an entire night there for disobedience. 

You cried hard for your dad. That place was cold and dark, but he never showed up.

You catch movement with the corners of your eyes outside the large window into the garden's bushes, the same window from which you peeked out earlier.

A small shadow moves quickly, and you get a bit scared, but curiosity makes you reach closer to the window's glass, your nose almost touching it. It feels cold, it must be freezing outside.

You catch a small girl hiding in the bushes and dropping to the dirt quickly as she notices you. 

The door to the outside is just steps away. What if you go help her? She looks distressed and must be cold! 

You know you are not allowed to, yet you go. 

You expect the door to be locked, but you open it easily.

You hear a soft beep as you set foot outside on the deck. Then the alarm goes off, and the motion detection lights turn on; they are so strong they blind you. 

You watch the little girl run to the forest as fast as she can. You try to go after her when you feel a firm grip pulling you from the hair and throwing you back into the kitchen. 

You hit the floor hard, sliding in.

You see a pair of black combat boots about to kick you in the stomach when your dad's voice screams very loud. 

—Don't get her scratch! She's valuable! —the man immediately stops mid-kick with a yes, sir.

You watch the other guards drag violently the little girl back inside the other building. 

You barely hear her indistinct screams in the distance. As you lose sight of her, you think she is begging for her mother, and then the door gets violently slammed close in front of you and locked down this time.

-

You don't understand what is happening but remember feeling freaked out that day. 

You then recall how scared you used to feel every single day back in those times.

-

They leave you for two days inside that dark closet with no food and no water as punishment.

-

The following month, the governess tells you she has finished her job with you but informs you that your training is set to start. 

You don't get what she means by "training."

Then, she leaves the study room and returns with a boy about two years older than you. 

You quickly get happy to see someone close to your age and not another adult. You have been raised among them.

The boy looks rigid and lost in the eye as he approaches you. 

When he is standing before you, he pulls you closer and kisses you on the mouth. You giggle at the sensation. It feels funny!

But you see nothing wrong with this, you like the contact since you have never been held like that.

These lessons last for several weeks. They get weirder and more touch-y each time. 

-

When winter arrives, it starts to snow outside. You are cozy sleeping in bed, hugging your teddy plushie under your warm blanket. 

The fireplace creeks and heats the room when you hear heavy footsteps outside your bedroom door before it opens.

A big, bulky guy picks you up from the bed, still wrapped in the blanket, waking you up. He carries you down the hallway, heading with you down the stairs.

There, you see your dad, for the last time, on your way to the SUV with tinted black windows parked right outside the front door. 

-

It turns out that man wasn't your father, nor was this your actual home.

-

You remember feeling increasingly nervous as the car gets further away from the property. All you think about is Bon-bon and the baby. 

You cry.

- 

You are sent to the Serbian ring, where your price is high for obvious reasons. You overhear the man who takes you there sound delighted at how high your bid went. 

You don't understand a thing.

-

Two days later, they fly you to a high-end hotel bungalow in Bali, where an older man expects you. 

They make him read some papers with terms and things he is suggested not to do to you since this type of man doesn't like the phrase "not allowed to," and he agrees. 

The chaperone then closes the room door behind you, leaving you alone with him.

You don't know what to do next, so you watch him remove his tie and shoes as he points you to the bed. 

As an obedient and collected girl, you get in there. 

-

This man paid in advance for an entire year of your services and exclusivity, which is an enormous amount of money. 

They make you meet with him always in different countries and locations until he gets bored of your body and moves to the next younger new girl.

After that, they return you to the market, and you visit the ring again, this time in Turkey. 

-

You were supposed to live in several security houses when you weren't traveling around the globe to meet your owners, which never happened to you. 

They rotate them constantly, and cameras and microphones are everywhere, so the other girls and boys cannot interact. 

It doesn't matter much anyway. 

-

With time, you learn that the more money you make them, the better things go for you. 

Soon, you discover you are one of the privileged ones since Lenkov, the silver-haired man from childhood, is infatuated with you and asks for you whenever he wants you. 

He is a scum.

—If you weren't so good for my business, I do have you living here with me full time like one of my dolls —the fit older man tells you while inhaling coke from the tits of a busty teenager. 

While another underage girl like you sits in his lap wearing a tiny bikini, five of them are in there fighting for his attention and petting him all around at his open-floor mansion by the sea in Punta Cana, where he currently lives. You are the youngest one in there.

Lenkov has many places and doesn't stay in one longer, and the girls he likes for his sick enjoyment only get to follow him all around.

It's a better type of prison to be at; you get to learn, and it's way better than getting bid off in the rings.

At least with him, you know what to expect.

-

Lenkov hosts one of his infamous parties as a goodbye to Punta Cana, which is full of powerful and corrupt guests. 

Drugs, alcohol, and a bunch of underage girls and boys are there at their disposition and for everyone's enjoyment, all if they pay, of course! 

Bricks of money and bags full of rolls are on several surfaces.

After your previous owner passed away in a very sketchy way, you are pretty sure he got himself poisoned.  

Lenkov ordered that they broght you so he can enjoy your body during the weekend and for your attendance at the party since a couple of Arab princes and some Serbian moguls will be there, and he wants you to work your way with them.

-

A very stoic, tall, and older man in an expensive suit sits, legs crossed, in the expensive armchair next to Lenkov. 

He looks you up from afar, his eyes traveling every inch of your skin. 

You know how to read a room by this point in your life. So you get closer and slowly twirl for him.

—She —he turns to tell the silver-haired man, looking at you, and Lenkov nods, allowing it.

There he was, your new owner. 

God, you hated that word. You weren't a thing to be own; you were a person, even if they didn't treat you like one.

-

When your chaperone opens the door to a massive suite in Dubai, you are surprised to be greeted by a tall, gorgeous, muscular man with piercing blue eyes, dark, wavy hair, and great skin. 

He is big and athletic. You would find him extremely attractive if he wasn't this sick person. 

After being with many 50-plus-year-olds, a 33-year-old feels young enough for you. Even if he is not, you are only 14 by this point. 

Well, you have been told you are. 

Since you don't own a passport or credentials, you don't know exactly who you are, how old you are, where you come from, or anything about yourself.

He agrees to the terms presented to him, and then, as usual, you are left alone with him. 

Either they go all over you immediately, asking you to take your clothes off in an instant or foreplay a bit before demanding you to go straight to the bed.

But none of the listed happens this time. 

He returns to his laptop, where he seems busy working. Of course, he didn't forget about you. He was totally ignoring you. 

It's always tricky with these guys! They are often arrogant, violent, controlling, or power-obsessed and challenging to read or act around. 

But, unfortunately for you, you have enough experience dealing with all those types. 

So you take off your dress, revealing your tiniest lingerie, and against your will, as usual, approach him, showing off your body. 

You get into his lap, placing yourself on his crotch. 

You don't want problems, and you know what happens to girls who get a "bad review" to say it like that.

He stops reading what's on his screen, getting distracted by you, then turns to grab his jacket and offers it to you. —No need for any of that —he tells you. 

And you put his coat on. 

It looks so big on you, covering your whole body. You move to sit on the sofa near him. 

Dead silence. 

He couldn't care less about you.

—Sir, I'm all okay? Is there a way I can pleasure you? If I'm doing something wrong, please let me make it up to you —you freak out as you notice the time of your session is running out; you don't want trouble.

—I didn't hire you —he says, still typing and looking busy. That takes you off guard. He looks straight at you with those fierce blue eyes, frowning.

—Pardon?

—My sick father gave you to me as a "forgive me" present —he lets out with disdain. —I don't get how he is okay with this stuff. I'm not too fond of paid girls or STDS. I'm not into the young ones.

—I'm very clean, I get tested all the ti-

—So, how does this shit work? —he interrupts you, not caring about what you are saying. —I read on paper that a titanium package was paid. Even the name sounds absurd!

You look at him collected, avoiding saying a dumb thing, being extremely careful with each word.

—It means I'm exclusive to your enjoyment, and you have me ten sessions before acquiring the package again if I please you, that I promise I-

—I see —he again interrupts your rehearsed speech.

You hear soft knocks in code on the door. It means Fran, your chaperone, of course you know that isn't his real name, is waiting for you.

You get your dress back on, and he walks you to the door.

Before reaching it, he suddenly pushes you into a rough and intense kiss, messing your hair and fucking your lipstick, biting open your lip, and, in a powerful movement, tearing your dress a little bit, taking you by surprise.

Fran opens the door at your lack of response and quickly apologizes, witnessing some of the action. —I didn't mean to interrupt, sir.

—No worries, I'm done with her —he says deadpan, pushing you out with a big slap in the ass.

-

This goes on for the subsequent sessions. 

He doesn't touch you more than what is required to pretend you two did the thing. He is clever at keeping appearances.

-

—So, as long as I have you under my power, I can take my time to have our "sessions," right?

—Yes, sir, but not that much.

—Good, that gains us little time.

He asks you one night while looking out of the panoramic windows, sipping his coñac. 

Damn, he is muscular and hot.

—Feel free to use the suite amenities. You are not allowed out of the room, correct?

—Oh no, I'm not —you confirm quickly, not wanting to get in serious trouble. Guards parol you, so there's no way you could get out even if you tried.

-

He renews his package with you without touching or disrespecting you in any way. 

Every time you meet him, you expect him to ask you to return the favor. Your life experiences have made you wary and distrustful.

But he doesn't.

-

—Yes?! —he looks your way. You have been staring at him for five minutes. He is not the most tender-speaking person.

—I'm sorry, I wasn't, I-

—It's alright, you can talk.

—No worries, you seem busy.

—Go straight to the point or remain shut up —he dislikes wasting time.

—Why are you doing this? —you venture to ask. —I'm not trying to sound ungrateful. I'm more than thankful to you, sir.

—Don't call me sir; it makes me feel dirty —he drops himself on the sofa beside you, giving himself time off from work, stretching. —I get what you are going through. I'm in a prison of my own, too.

You remain quiet a little bit, pensive to open your mouth, knowing you can trust no bitch, but this feels different. So you trust your gut. —What do you mean?

—My father got my family, me included... —he stands to pour himself another glass of coñac and offers you one. You aren't allowed to drink unless they offer you, so you accept it. —...dragged into his illicit business, sadly, we have no way out now.

—I think I met him once from afar. No disrespect, but he seems harsh.

—You can disrespect him all you want. I hate my father; he is a scumbag, he got my brother locked up and murdered in jail, and my mother is also dead, thanks to him. So now it's just us.

Silence.

—Are you in any danger? —you ask, honestly concerned.

—Worried about your situation?

—No si- shit! —you quickly correct yourself. —Sorry, what do I call you?

—Pascal, that's my real name, by the way. As you can see, I don't care much, and yes! I'm always in danger, not imminent, but still, it's a dangerous game I'm playing.

—You are kind to me, that's why I asked. I don't know my real name, so I have no name you can call me.

—I can think of a couple of ones —he makes an innuendo, and by your shocked expression, he quickly adds. —I'm joking! I'm kidding!

You laugh for the first time in God knows how long.

Knocks come on the door.

-

That goes on until Lenkov becomes possessive of you and warns him that this is the last time Pascal is allowed to acquire your package, and he won't steal you away from him.

—I'm not planning to do so, Lenkov, it's just that pussy is so good, and I don't know how to quit it —he lies.

Lenkov smiles at him with an "I get it" expression before asking him for an obscene amount of money.

Pascal agrees to it, but only if he is allowed to have you for more time, for an entire year.

—A million, and it's a deal.

—But if she stays with me in London...

—She will be not allowed out of the apartment, I will place snipers, and if you try to trick me, I will slight her throat in front of you and then yours. A million and a half, and it's done.

Pascal pays for it.

-

He welcomes you to your new home with a glass of champagne.

—To the birthday girl.

—What?!

—Today is your birthday. According to your birth certificate, here, it's your gift.

—Is this real?! —tears fill your eyes. He nods, and then Pascal looks taken aback when you give him the warmest hug he has ever received. 

He doesn't know what to do until he relaxes and hugs you back.

—I could sleep with you right now! —you say, and you quickly add by the shocked expression he gives you. —I'm joking! I'm kidding. Ah! I'm one year older than I thought! But how did you get this?!

—I have something to confess to you, and it's the reason why I moved you here with me —he sounds serious and looks stern; he hesitates before continuing. 

You start thinking about the worst possible outcome. Here comes the part that goes bad for you. 

—A few months ago, I made contact with Interpol.

—Oh, please, I'm, look, I, I rather not —you mumble and start to panic, fearing for your life.

—I see. I may die after this —Pascal lets out.

—You what?! —you panic.

—It doesn't matter. Yeah, it's better you stay out of it.

—If it threatens your life, then I'm in! —you sound so assured that he looks shocked.

—Why would you...? —he starts asking.

You jump in. —Risk my life for yours? Anyday! You are the only good thing that has ever happened to me —Pascal looks at you with an expression you cannot read.

—This guy I got in contact with has been pursuing Lenkov for some time and plotting his downfall.

—This guy?! Wasn't the Interpol?!

—Well, yes, he used to work for them...

—Oh god, how are you sure he is not setting you up and wh- —you panic again.

He calms you down and quickly explains. —He is the most annoying guy ever, but it's legit. He started his own organization and has the best of the best working for him, and that's why he moved the Lenkov case with him and left Interpol to work it on his own; it's personal to him.

—Have you met with him?

—Just on the phone, many, many times.

—I don't like this.

—I promise you he is legit and has resources. He was the one who got me your birth certificate. All he is asking from us in return is to act as a witness in case all goes well and we get Lenkov on trial.

—And what's in this for you? I'm sorry for judging you, but my life has taught me some lessons. You aren't in this just because you want my freedom, right?

—To whistleblow my father and expose his business with Lenkov, and make them both rot in prison.

—You are going to get us murdered!

Pascal starts worrying about you bailing out, judging your fear and panic.

He is getting ready to start working you out when you suddenly calm down.

—But what do I have to lose? This is no life, and if I can help to protect you, other girls, and boys and gain my freedom along the way, I will.

- 

Lenkov sends people to check on you two occasionally without previous notice, trying to catch in any weird move and have an excuse to move you back with him.

It comes to his attention that according to the people he sends there, they never seem to interrupt you in sexual activities, enraging him.

-

You are cozy on the couch watching TV when Pascal's deep voice grabs your attention.

—Listen, whenever someone from my "dad's business," aka my job, comes here, or we aren't alone, no matter if it's the help service, I need you to play along and pretend we are in a sexual relationship. We need to keep appearances and have the word spread. 

—Why? —you start feeling concerned. —Did something happen?

—Don't stress about it —he dismisses it. —Just so you know.

-

—Y/N, you are right. You are not being paranoid —you have been feeling observed by people looking from the building across for some days now. —Probably Lenkov moved some people to one of the apartments in front. They are watching us now.

Pascal pretends to enjoy a drink while looking out of the floor-to-ceiling windows to the skyscraper in front of yours. 

—Moving out is no option for us —you add, feeling nauseous. Months have passed since you started living peacefully with Pascal at this place you now call home.

—We need to engage more, then —he sounds grim.

—If we close the curtains but keep the lights on, maybe we could dry hump for them. Silhouettes may work.

—Have the men you have been with ever cared enough to close the curtains? 

—No. I get it. It's going to look staged. They won't go away till they make sure.

He lets an exasperated sigh and smashes his glass on the floor.

You instinctively jump. —Listen, I have done it before, we could... —you go all red.

—No.

-

After several days of noticing him consumed by the situation's stress, you cross the distance between you and gift him your first kiss. 

Obviously, it's not your first physical kiss, but the first one that feels real.

You kiss him all the way to the bedroom. 

Where Pascal makes love to you in a missionary position, all flesh in full display and bodies moving in rhythm for them to witness. 

After you cowgirl him, he takes you in doggy style till you cum from pleasure for the first time ever while moaning his name.

You completely forget that you were doing it for the men watching you at a distance, secretly shooting photos without you noticing before they have them printed and delivered to Lenkov.

-

There is a slight shift after that night. 

The interactions between you two become more tender; there are more accidental touches and sweet looks, along with some cuddling, but nothing sexual ever happens again after the Lenkov people leave you alone.

Not even a kiss.

-

Three months later, as you grow impatient every day since you know your year agreement is near its end, Pascal informs you that this guy wants to implement the plan.

Next week, a massive raid on the Lenkov rabbit holes, properties, and security homes will occur. People are going to get arrested and youngsters rescued. You are on the list.

The difference with you is that you will immediately be moved to Belgium to the Little Heroes Global headquarters to testify and for them to prepare you for court.

-

It's a Wednesday morning, the first time you talk to this guy on the phone. 

He sounds young, but his tone is too solemn. He informs you that Pascal was the critical piece he needed to deploy his long, elaborate plan; he and his team have spent years trying to get Lenkov.

Now that you have all the knowledge and information he needs to take him down, it is all good to go.

It's the first of many calls you two exchange, and you eventually become incredibly familiar with his voice.

-

The day that "Operation Lina" arrives, you are so nervous. 

Everything is going according to the plan. 

But then, as a lot of commotion happens outside your apartment door, Pascal bolts to his feet and places you behind his body, protecting you.

A SWAT team bursts in, knocking the door down. Pascal looks at you, confused at the violence, but you see him smile for the first time in all the time you have met him. 

—That's the sound of your freedom —he addresses you, briefly resting his temple on yours. You want so desperately to kiss his lips.

Then the SWAT team moves quick on their feet, guns up to approach you, or that you think so.

Unexpectedly, they pinned Pascal in a violent move against the floor. He hits his head hard in the process.

—What are you doing!? —you start screaming and kicking as they push you out of the way. You go insane as they keep dragging him away from you. —LEAVE HIM YOU FUCKERS! You are hurting him! This wasn't part of the plan!

They yank him down the apartment entrance hallway, and you fight your way to follow along, demanding to know where they are taking him, screaming and kicking.

—PASCAL! —You are desperately calling for him at the top of your lungs. 

When you feel a hand softly rub you on your shoulder, you turn around, expecting the worst, to see Lenkov standing there, so you violently remove the hand from you and, with all your force, push the guy against the hallway wall.

—Easy! Easy! —that familiar voice tells you. —He is going to be okay, I will make sure —a kid slightly older than you is standing before you, his beautiful blue eyes are set on you.

—Are you!? —you let out in barely a whisper. You can't believe your eyes; he can't be that young!

—Yes —he starts fixing himself. —You are strong. Mathew De Vos —he offers you his hand.

—Why the fuck are you betraying him like that?! —you start immediately fighting with him, which, funny enough, becomes a habit for you two.

—I'm not! Listen, in one of the raids inside of one of Lenkov's drawers at his office desk, there were photos of you and Pascal, you know, explicitly engaging in some illegal acts.

—But that's not! He didn't ra-! I consent to it, AND it was just because Lenvok people were watching us ove-

—I believe you. I'm not happy to lose one of my biggest witnesses, but it's still a crime. Due to cooperation, we can offer him a good deal, so Pascal will be alright, I promise you.

—How do I know I can trust you?!

—I'm here, as I promised I will. Let's go. The quicker we get this done, the faster you will win back your freedom!

-

Days later, Mat informs you he moved his influences to get a particular trial for Pascal and that he ended up with just domestic arrest in Budapest, ankle monitor and all.

But that you won't be able to see him, probably ever again. You are only allowed to talk to him on the phone.

-

Lenkov corrupts his way out of the situation. To both your fury, you have never seen a man so furious as Mathew that day; you almost felt like running away from him as soon as possible, but this unexpected outcome forces you into a witness protection program.

Mathew offers you a place to stay until things get sorted out, a stay that will last for years to come.

-

—The obvious aside, duh, why did Mathew want to take Lenkov down? —Seb asks, his voice husky. 

It's cold and late at night, around 5 a.m., and by this point of the story, you are already wrapped around Seb's arms, sharing the soft blanket on the couch as he plays nervously with your golden bracelet. 

Seb has remained empathic and supportive, listening to your life story.

—Mat got scarred by that same man. Victor, Mat's father, was just solidifying "Heroes Global" after building it to protect minors, legally advise victims and their families, and help intelligence agencies dismantle traffic rings when he was the first person to discover the real business behind Lenkov's legal facades—you explain. Seb's eyebrows go to the roof, and his eyes look sad.

—As Mat was dealing with becoming an orphan, his team found out the helicopter crash that killed his parents, well, his dad mostly, wasn't an accident. Mathew's mom has been in a coma for years with no hope of recovering, but she is still with us, thank God. 

—Are you a believer?

—Yes. God sent Mat to me. He means the world to me, Seb. He really does, even with all that implies. It's the only family I have. Even in our worst moments, I have never not loved him. He gave me a chance and a better life than I had ever imagined.

—It's good to know —Mat's voice takes you both by surprise, making you un-cuddle and turn to him. He walks inside the room before standing before you, hands inside his soft pajama bottoms, shirtless.

—Where did those abs come from, ancient Greece? —Seb can't help but peek as he jokes. He looks good.

As soon as I found out Lenkov did it and what he really was, I took the basis of Heroes Global and founded Little Heroes Global, working with Interpol. Did you know, Sebastian Vettel, that this girl right here is the foundation's vice president? he asks in the voice of a quiz host while pointing at you.

—I begged Mat to let me stay and work with them as soon as I was freed, I wanted to help others, but I was an illegal here in Belgium, with no papers and in need of a citizen permit and a passport.

—Also under age —Matt adds. So, I wasn't able to marry her to fix all of that thing at once, but as soon as we could, we did, I stayed true to my word of taking care of her.

—It wasn't a romantic or traditional wedding —you explain.

—Just transactional, sign here, sign this, sign there —Mat adds.

—Do you ever?

—Yes —you both answer at the same time.

Dead silence.

—But you two need to go to bed, to sleep, I mean. On another occasion, Y/N may tell you all about us; I prefer my version, though. Feel free to stay over Vettel. Just respect my roof —he winks before leaving, implying to be discreet with sex if there is to be. 

Sebastian goes all red. To be continued... < Previous chapter | Masterlist | Next chapter >

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[ladyluscinia]

Izzy Hands Is Manipulative, But Not That Way

...or I finally finish that long ass meta post about why I love the fucking Navy Plot lol

The Izzy manipulation debate has been really interesting to me pretty much since it started, because I'd see a post arguing he's manipulating Edward and go "No, and he couldn't if he tried" and then the next post would say he sucks at manipulation because he's a blunt fucking instrument and I'd go "Yea- wait. Hmm. No, he can be targeted and tricky as fuck." Which does, on its surface, seem like a contradictory stance, but I swear it works.

Because the thing with Izzy - and this is such a fun thing imo - is there are two core types of manipulation that characters engage in, and Izzy fucking sucks at the one you expect his style of antagonist to focus on. But he's scarily good at the other.

Long meta under the cut, so get comfy.

...

From his role under Edward to the protagonist vs antagonist dynamic setup to his introduction scenes, Izzy is very much invoking the conniving second in command. We know this character from other media. He doesn't have the full power he wants so he's constantly scheming to get it. He can't or won't challenge his boss for some reason, so he settles for being the devil on their shoulder or working behind their back. He's the voice constantly ready to inflame insecurities and turn relationship cracks into chasms, and usually he's lying constantly to do so. His fingerprints are all over his boss's problems up to the moment they show some weakness, and then their loyal second goes right for the backstab. He is THE ambitious manipulator. The shady advisor. The snake.

And then you actually look at Izzy and he is not that guy. In fact, it's a testament to the strength of Edward's character arc how much his evil little henchman is not causing his problems.

So - Izzy and manipulation:

Izzy Can't Convince People To Do Things

Like. He really can't.

This interpersonal struggle is fairly fundamental to his character. And moreover, it's a skill that Izzy is intensely aware that he lacks, so usually he doesn't even try.

In his first episode he walks right up to Buttons and just straight up asks him for the information on his party. He doesn't even resolve to steal the hostages until he realizes that Stede has lost them in the bush already, and Izzy obtains them by buying them. When Stede confronts him they end up splitting the pair in a very above-board negotiation and he pretty much just goes with what Stede suggests.

Then in 1x03, people make a big deal of Izzy "manipulating" Edward by not clarifying that Stede didn't know who he was when he turned down the invite, but kind of importantly he repeats the damning line of the conversation faithfully. If he was going to lie, then why not lie? Why even go see Stede at all? And, if he didn't want Stede dead until after the conversation (understandable, tbh, since "Iggy" was stab-worthy), surely he could invent a better insult to rile Edward up. It makes his omission hit more like being bitchy about Stede not recognizing the obvious - namely that Izzy Hands works for Blackbeard and literally everyone knows this - than a slander campaign to get him killed. And once we properly meet Izzy and Edward in 1x04, Izzy's inability to manipulate becomes his main struggle.

Izzy's a blunt and direct person. He leans on authority bestowed by Blackbeard to take control of situations, playing the role he's supposed to play, and without it he lacks a Plan B. In 1x04 he doesn't have any authority over Edward, so his efforts to get him to take the danger of the Spanish seriously amount to "Well as bored as you might be, if you don't make a decision soon we're gonna fucking die." And this is true! There might be a very subconscious attempt at manipulation in his resignation speech before the "That's Blackbeard. I'm Stede, remember?" line - of the piss him off to get him to get his shit together variety - but Edward literally makes a joke out of it so not exactly effective.

And once Edward stops giving Izzy authority in general, his plan to make Lucius do stuff is still just... brute force. Which works at first when Lucius doesn't realize that Izzy's on his own now, and stops working as soon as Fang breaks ranks. His last ditch blackmail attempt isn't manipulative either - he just plans to tell the truth to Pete and assumes he'll be pissed about it. My guy loses a fight over the pirate equivalent of making an uppity employee clean the coffee maker while the boss is out. Not only does he fail to manipulate the crew in a conniving antagonist way... he doesn't even try.

I mean, the only time he (somewhat) succeeds in talking someone into things is 1x06. Getting Edward to agree to killing Stede isn't really manipulation - Izzy gets Fang and Ivan to back him in a very straightforward way because they all actually do have a stake in this - but he's passably able to push Stede to go through with the fuckery via fake compliments. It's not exactly high level work, though. Stede being vulnerable to ego-stroking / dares is pretty obvious.

So what is Izzy good at?

Well, if you can't make people do anything other than what they were going to do in the first place, you might as well lean into that.

...

Izzy Manipulates Situations, Not People

Situational manipulation is one of those fictional tropes that rarely can happen in real life, but there's not much resemblance because real life rarely gives you all the building blocks for a proper gambit and lets you loose. Too many factors. In narratives, though? It becomes one of my favorite ways of having a character be clever.

And before I get into this too much, a really fun sidenote - I think Izzy does situational manipulation more like the way protagonists do it. See, antagonists are usually emotionally and situationally manipulative (ex: provoking the hero to lash out and using it to frame them for a bigger crime), but it's not a good look when your hero drives the target to do something bad and then punishes them for it. So heroes lean on stuff like Batman Gambits - where the lynchpin of the scheme is the target fucking themselves over by behaving completely in character. They've written Izzy so ineffective at emotional manipulation that he pretty much has to rely on other characters' flaws or histories to cause problems, which has a very similar result. And it's wild.

...

Going back to the 1x03 confrontation in Jackie's bar, Izzy doesn't really do anything abnormal in how he conducts himself, but people are picking up on an agenda for a reason. Namely, the whole damn conversation quickly turns into a trap, and Izzy fully sits back and watches Stede spring it from sheer idiocy.

There's no indication that when Izzy walked up he wasn't going to carry out his task with all the bitchy professionalism expected of him, while probably hoping that Stede would eventually stick his foot in his mouth without Izzy's help (assuming he's the kind of idiot Izzy thinks he is). His first section of this conversation is nearly polite:

Izzy (about the Nose Jar): "I have a few colleagues in there." Stede: "Ugh. You again." Geraldo: "Mr. Hands, welcome. It's been a while." Izzy: "(To Geraldo) Yeah, because I hate this fucking place. (To Stede) But for some inexplicable reason, my boss would like a word with you. Bonnet."

It's not until Stede starts talking that I think Izzy clues in that Stede doesn't actually know who his boss is. He didn't introduce himself until the literal last second of their 1x02 interaction, so it wasn't obvious Stede wasn't literally bolting into the forest in horrified realization.

And Stede? He goes hard on being a bitch right out the gate. Brushes Izzy off, tells him to "get in line", calls him the wrong name, says he doesn't care who Izzy is...

Izzy so far has met Stede in a public place, in front of people who clearly treat Izzy with respect and fear. He doesn't bring up their previous interaction, Stede does. He doesn't even goad Stede beyond existing. He corrects him on his name, and watches it not register in the slightest. The next line is the clincher:

Izzy (slightly incredulous): "So I'll tell my Captain that you're declining then, yeah?"

As Izzy is speaking the conversation becomes a trap - he chooses a reasonable way to refer to Edward that isn't "Blackbeard" and waits to see if Stede will make this worse. The jump from "no I'm busy" to "tell him he has terrible taste in flunkies and he can go suck eggs in Hell" is all Stede, completely ignoring context clues as Geraldo stares on in horror. Hell, Jackie only refrains from later de-nosing Stede on the spot because Geraldo knows what's up, and Stede still doesn't pick up on the fact he should maybe be asking some questions (though I'll give him the knife was distracting).

Izzy returns to the ship, quotes Stede directly for his damning line, and waits to see what Edward will do with it. It's not good behavior on his part (and if he could have seen the future he might have tried worse), but switching mid-conversation to offering Stede an opportunity to fuck himself over is a very different mindset than simply lying to / provoking Stede or Edward to get what he wants. He's mostly being petty.

Stede did insult Edward of his own volition, after all, and just because Izzy fudges the truth to hide he didn't know he was insulting Blackbeard instead of just Izzy and a random stranger doesn't change that. All Izzy did to "escalate" that conversation was give Stede a second opening to do so himself.

But there is a far better example of Izzy masterfully manipulating a situation than this in-the-moment bit of pettiness, so let's move onto my favorite bit... explaining in extensive and slightly awestruck detail why the Navy plot. Fucking. Rules. Because it does. Ready?

...

How to Mastermind the Decisive Removal of One Stupid Fucking Stede Bonnet Over Drinks

Ahem. The Navy plot. Masterclass in intimate betrayal. Izzy's biggest escalation in the total collapse of Edward and Izzy's relationship, but also a completely fucking fascinating glimpse into whatever tangled web of codependency they've got going on, because Edward isn't even mad after 1x09. This wordcount is going to be insane enough without me getting into the Blackhands relationship connotations, so I will... attempt... to stick to breaking down the actual scheme.

And what a scheme it was.

Let's start at the beginning. Jack showing up to lure them into the trap at the start of 1x08? Nope, earlier. Izzy getting kicked off the ship and going to Jackie at the end of 1x06? Further back. Edward proposing the "kill Stede" plan at the end of 1x04, which is the domino that starts all this, right? Closer, but still no.

Izzy's first appearance on screen is in episode 1x02, and that episode is where the seeds of the Navy plot are first planted. See, during Stede's confrontation with Izzy, both of the hostages chime in:

Hostage 1 (Wellington): "Believe him, he's quite insane." Hostage 2 (Hornberry): "He does have the eyes of a madman. Sorry, you do."

Wellington says his line in a tone of voice that clearly indicates a story to tell, and it should also be noted that he is the same one who earlier jumped at the chance to tell the tribe chief about Stede murdering their captain - Nigel. And he's the one that Izzy leaves with, in a sour mood and wanting information about this "Stede Bonnet" character.

When Izzy later reaches out to the Navy, it's no coincidence that he finds Chauncey. He's known since right after their first meeting that Stede was directly responsible for the murder of an Admiral's brother and that the English Navy would know soon enough, since he was literally about to ransom a hostage back to them who would tell the story. And he filed that information away until it was useful or relevant like a clever pirate should.

Moving on to Jackie's bar in 1x03, Izzy gets more potentially useful observations / inspiration. Jackie is actually the first person in the series to make a deal with a naval power. Izzy and crew track the Revenge to the Spanish warship, which means they must see Geraldo sold out Stede to them. Izzy isn't stupid. He knows Geraldo and Spanish Jackie, knows that she's the brains and brawn behind this deal, and has seen enough of Stede that he'd absolutely believe that he did something to get Jackie pissed enough to plot his murder. File away Jackie wants Stede dead and details of how she nearly succeeded in offing him for later.

Izzy spends 1x05 up to the fuckery demonstration observing Stede's crew while waiting for Edward to pull the trigger. I definitely want to note the scene where they interrogate the Frenchman at the beginning of 1x05, because Izzy is staring directly at Stede as he leans away from Edward threatening violence (we know this will later be in his love montage so not actually a turn off, lol, but like... it looked like one). His opinion of the crew is that they like to fuck around without structure (1x05 during the party), probably that they enjoy more standard pirate levels of violence (not shown directly since they are kept out of the 1x05 raid, but fairly obvious), and that they are really easily awestruck by the chance to hear "real pirates" tell charismatic stories (1x06 ghost story).

Any of that sounding like someone we know?

And now to go back to Izzy in 1x06, when he gets sick of Edward being cagey about the plan to kill Stede and decides to "make" him stop stalling, he's straightforward again. Getting Ivan and Fang to back him isn't emotionally manipulative, but it does give him weight in the conversation. They are the ones who bring up the whole "love of a pet makes a man weak" thing, and they do it in the context of calling out hypocrisy. Izzy knows the standards Edward holds his crew to. He lets them convince Edward it's time.

Taking the chance to suggest Stede try a fuckery is a strong blend of situational and emotional manipulation, and later challenging him to a formal duel knowing he'd be overconfident enough to accept is more situational again. Even the terms of the duel are designed to take advantage of the situation. And then Izzy loses in the most comedy way possible, Edward lets him get banished, and Izzy decides that if he was ok with just sending Stede Bonnet on his way to fuck-off before... he's fucking gonna kill him now.

My guy is not a creative thinker, but he's definitely a logistical one. And as he rows away from that ship, all the pieces fall into place.

First, Spanish Jackie. Who listens to him bemoan his relationship woes because she likes him (Izzy gets Jackie in the divorce). Who wants Stede dead and has the clout to summon and deal with a distasteful ally - Chauncey. Together, they concoct an arrangement where a trap will be set and Chauncey gets Stede and only Stede. This isn't a tip-off or a free-for-all. Stede comes from Chauncey's world and they are sending him back. Permanently.

Then it's time for the trap itself, which needs to do two things: get the Revenge somewhere that Chauncey can corner it, and get Edward out of there. And Izzy? Izzy knows Edward. Knows there's one particular person in his past that will have no trouble integrating with the crew, getting Edward to act more like a pirate than a gentleman, and who happens to have a great ambush location on hand.

I've said this before but I'm gonna say it again - I don't think outside characters realize how hard and fast Edward is falling for Stede. The BlackBonnet bonding moments happen almost exclusively when they are alone. The place Izzy dramatically fails to manipulate the situation is not having the evidence he would need to predict Edward going back for Stede. He (and Jack) both think that a precise wedge between BlackBonnet - one that Jack delivers near flawlessly by playing into real issues - will be enough to remind Edward that Stede isn't his people. This isn't a plan to murder the love of Edward's life while his back is turned. It's a plan to get rid of Stede, and remind Edward why he was on board with doing that in the first place. "That's fair," Izzy says about a punch to the face.

Instead, Izzy's plot accidentally backs Edward into a corner and forces him to publicly pull a grand-gesture relationship level-up that he was not emotionally ready for, and the fallout from that explosion is way worse than any of our conspirators were counting on.

Still... you gotta admit. It was a really good plan.

[jesterwriting]

Hey Jester!! 🫶 hope you’re doing well ^_^ love the way you write Sanji and the op boys, it’s really comforting! :’)

If your requests are open- would it be possible to ask a headcannon list or short fic with the loverboy? A small fun, comfort scenario where reader really likes the idea of wearing suits or styles (like Sanji) in the sort, but doesn’t act on it and simply admires it? Then one day she buys something for herself, and he walks in on her? Eventual Reader hinting out to him “yknow you’re welcome to try my stuff on too..”

“!…”

…? Not sure if it makes any sense-! Feel free to skip it if it’s something a little too weird ^^”

Wishing you a good day- thank you! Stay awesome!!

pairing: sanji x gn!reader

contents: slight language, fluff, nosebleeds because sanji moment, reader buys a suit for the first time but its gender neutral

word count: 1.3k words

note: awwww hi! as always i got carried away because i only ever know how to be long winded oops— this was so cute and fun to write, though :33 thank you for your request <33 i hope you enjoy hehe

playlist: greenpath - christopher larkin

As you passed by the window of a nearby shop, you paused to stare at the mannequin that decorated the usually empty space. With one hand on its hip, it was adorned with a simple black suit. Plain, yes, but you could appreciate fine tailoring when you saw it. You wondered how it would look on you; if it would fit against your body just so, accentuating your finer features. That would be nice, wouldn’t it? You usually wore casual clothing, preferring comfort above all else, but you could appreciate a fancy suit when the mood struck.

Your shoes squeaked as you stood yourself on your tiptoes to align yourself with the mannequin. The reflection of your face hovered over the mannequin's blank features, almost uncanny in its visage. You hummed, studying the window as if it was a mirror. It didn’t look half bad. Before you made any rash decisions that would leave you losing a hefty sum of cash, you should try it on. Approximation was fine sometimes, though you could admit when it came to the finer things in life, it was better to know that you were getting your money’s worth.

You wished Sanji was here to help you. He always took good care of his appearance, preferring dress shirts and slacks to your jeans. If anyone knew how buying a suit should go, it was him. For all you knew, you were walking into this shop to get swindled. Lost in thought, you picked at your cuticles. If you were being honest, a part of you wanted to keep your little shopping spree a secret. Such a drastic change in style was out of character for you, and you would rather not be teased for it.

You hummed, looking left, then looking right. No one you recognized. Your purse was heavy on your hip, more than enough to get you two fancy suits and more. A cloud that had previously been blocking the sun moved out of the way, causing sunlight to spill over your shoulders and make the suit almost glow.

“Fuck it,” You said. “It’s fine.”

With that, you squared your shoulders and strolled into the store, prepared for the hefty price tag that was surely waiting for you. Instead, you were met with the sweetest old lady you had ever met, and a discount for being so patient. Bag in hand, you took off towards the sunny, a grin you couldn’t wipe off on your cheeks.

You couldn’t wait to try it on again in the comfort of your own room. Sometimes, the mirrors in shops lied. If you were truly going to know if you got your money's worth, it would be back home. You giggled to yourself, doing a small spin on your heel. Giddiness welled in your chest like a fountain.

Today was a good day.

—

“Oh, today was a spectacular day,” You muttered as you admired yourself in the mirror. No one had returned from the island so you were alone until everyone’s little shopping spree had ended. That gave you more than enough time to prance around in your new purchase for as long as you wanted.

You were worried it would be hard to move in. Formal wear always looked so stiff, you were sure you would feel trapped if you ever wore anything like it. Now that you were in one, however, it was the opposite. Your new suit fit you like a glove, pulled in at your waist to accentuate your figure. You raised your hands over your head, then bent to touch your toes, relishing in the give the fabric gave. There was no fear or any rips of tears, you felt like you could run a marathon if you wanted. The suit was everything you wanted and more. You couldn’t help but give a little giggle as you posed in front of the mirror.

Damn, you looked good.

A knock at the door shattered your joyful mood, quickly replacing it with anxiety. Your skin buzzed uncomfortably. There was no way you could change fast enough before whoever was at the door got bored if waiting and waltzed in. Privacy was in short supply on the Thousand Sunny. You looked at your reflection, almost laughing at your deer in headlights expression.

“Don’t come in, I’m naked,” You yelled the first thing you could think of, immediately regretting it as soon as it left your mouth.

“That’s alright, my love, I can come back later.” Even worse, it was Sanji at the door, probably off to nurse a nosebleed.

Chewing on your next words, you tried again, “Just kidding!”

Your boyfriend let out a strained laugh, “Okay. Well, I was only wondering what you would like to eat for dinner.”

Softly, you padded over to the door so you could hear him clearer. If anyone caught you like this, you’d want it to be Sanji. He could give you tips you didn’t know previously, and you knew he would never tease you like the others if he found out. Heart pounding in your chest, you turned the knob, poking your head out into the hall. As you guessed, Sanji was covering his nose with a tissue to stifle some of the blood flow, a rosy hue on his cheeks.

He smiled when he saw you, eyes soft. “Hello, sweetheart.”

You kept the rest of your body out of view as you hardened your gaze. “I need your help. And don’t you dare laugh at me.”

“I would never dream of laughing at you. You are my angel, all I know is to sing your praises.” Sanji’s curiosity got the better of him, stepping closer to peer into your quarters. His brows knit in concern when you didn’t move. “Is everything alright?”

With a sigh, you let the door creak open, arms open wide. “How do I look?”

Not wasting a second, Sanji pulled you into a tight hug. “You look marvelous, my love,” He said into your hair. You giggled when he lifted you and spun you around a few times for good measure.

“Are you sure?” You asked, feet now firm on the ground. “It’s not weird I’m wearing this? Suits usually aren’t my thing.”

“Yes, I’m sure. You’d look wonderful wearing rags, my love, let alone a finely tailored suit.” Sanji looked you up and down, admiring you and the suit that adorned your body. “Where did you get this? The stitching is so precise…”

Allowing him to inspect you — a tissue still stuck in his nostril from his earlier nosebleed — you smiled to yourself. “A sweet old lady runs a shop just off main street, I can show you later if you want.”

“I’d love to go.”

A moment of silence passed between you, Sanji admiring while you stood stock still and allowed him to fidget with the hems of your sleeves.

“You know, you can borrow this sometime if you want. Just so it gets more use. You always dress so nice.”

He laughed, blue eyes lit up like the ocean on a sunny day. “I think this would be a little too small for me, angel.” You watched his expression shift, a bit of blood dribbling from his other nostril before it was promptly stifled with another tissue. Sanji cleared his throat. “Although… If you’d like to wear any of my clothes, you’re welcome to whenever you’d like.”

“I think I may take you up on that offer.”

After all, what was better than comfy clothes? Comfy boyfriend clothes that get them all hot and bothered.

And, of course, your brand new suit.

[atlaculture]

Possible Water Tribe Weddings Pt. 2: Sakha-Style - The Bride-Welcoming Ceremony

I’ve gotten quite a few asks regarding what sort of wedding traditions the Water Tribe would have. This has been a difficult question to answer, as the Water Tribe’s primary cultural inspiration (Inuit/Inupiat) traditionally didn’t have wedding ceremonies; pre-Christianized marriage was simply a matter of moving in together and starting a family. I recommend reading through Mostly-Mundane-ATLA’s blog, if you’re interested in learning more about Inupiat and Inuit culture.

That said, I also recognize that ceremonies can be a great source of inspiration for writers and artists. So I’ll be covering the wedding traditions of the adjacent cultural inspirations for the Water Tribe.

Also, the engagement necklace practice we see in the show is unique to the Avatarverse.

Sakha Pt. 2

Another source of inspiration for me when building up the culture of the Water Tribe is Sakha culture. Sakha people primarily live in Russia's Republic of Sakha, a region located partially within the Arctic Circle. Since Sakha weddings are pretty elaborate and multifold, I'm going to say these are marriage practices are more NWT than SWT.

I'm going to add a "Keep Reading" line for this post, as the process is quite lengthy. I've split the details of Sakha marriage into two-parts.

After the payment celebration party, the groom would pick a day to officially retrieve his wife and take her to his family's home; the young couple would also be accompanied by the bride's family and friends on the journey. At the groom's home, there would be another celebration waiting.

This "second wedding" was to welcome the bride to the groom's home and land. When the couple arrived, there would be a horserace between the bride's party and the groom's party. This was all in good fun, with the belief that the winning family of the race was responsible for blessing the marriage with the most happiness and prosperity. Similarly, if the bride's horse stood straight and alert as it was being tied to the home's tethering pole, this was seen as a good omen for the marriage's health and fertility.

Once the race was over and everyone gathered into the home, the bride would then change into her fanciest dress. Rather than describe what a traditional Sakha wedding dress looks like, I'll just show some examples below:

Once the bride was done dressing, she would stand on a white horse-skin rug in front of the family's fireplace. She would then provide an offering of meat to the spirit of the home, by throwing pieces of meat into the fire. She would also recite a prayer, stating her duties as a wife and asking the spirit of the home to protect her marriage. Everyone would drink horse milk wine (kumis) in support of these prayers. She also must offer a prayer to the spirit of the land. She would do this by tying horsehair to an outside tree near the entrance of the home and praying to be accepted as a new resident of the land. She would then pour kumis mixed with animal oil on to the tree as an offering.

After the bride was done with all of her prayers, family and wedding guests would be free to offer their own blessings to the couple. This was achieved by "feeding" the home's fireplace with offerings of meat and prayers. Everyone was expected to drink kumis after each offering and prayer. These prayers were usually for fertility, health, safety, fruitful cattle, and general happiness. After all the formalities were finished, everyone would feast and partake in kumis. This celebration would last two to three days.

At the end of the wedding, both sides would exchange gifts. The bride's family would give gifts of cattle, fur, and meat to the groom's family. In turn, the groom's family was expected to give the bride's family similar gifts but twice as many in quantity. An especially wealthy groom would give away horses as wedding gifts for the bride's party. Invited guests (non-family) also received gifts from the groom’s relatives as well. Finally, the bride was similarly expected to give wedding gifts to the groom's family as a thank you for welcoming her into their home. There would also be more kumis drinking before the bride's side departed to leave the bride with her new family.

There is also a post-wedding tradition for Sakha people known as Terkyttyy or "coming home". The bride takes a trip back to her family home about three years after the wedding, usually not long after she has fully recovered from having her first child. She and her family would exchange gifts; the expectation is that the bride's family give the new mother bigger/better gifts than what she's giving them. This essentially acts as a post-birth baby shower.

If you're wondering where I got all of this information from, click here.

While I'm tempted to write about the wedding traditions of other northern Siberian ethnic groups, I think I'll stop here for now--- mainly because this is a really time-consuming series. However, if you look at the marriage practices of other Siberian peoples such as Nenet or Evenki, you'll find that their practices fall somewhere between the simplicity & practicality of Chukchi weddings and the spirituality & ceremony of Sakha weddings. I think this is due to many Siberian ethnicities being culturally and ancestrally a mixture of Turkic and Indigenous North American. But this is just a theory of mine, so feel free to correct me if I'm totally off the mark.

Anywho, I think Chukchi weddings feel more SWT while Sakha weddings feel more NWT, since the Northern Water Tribe is more spiritual and patriarchal. However, I also think you could mix some of these traditions together for either group, since they are "sister tribes". After all, the Fire Nation's wedding traditions certainly aren't from one exclusive culture.

Like what I’m doing? Tips always appreciated, never expected. ^_^