#alright time to get started yeehaw

[ooeygooeyghoul]

Haha, hey guys long time no see! Sorry for up and disappearing for like a month, you know how it is.

[wasabi-gumdrop]

unironically obsessed with the best of what american slice of life has to offer: king of the hill

[naturesapphic]

Would you write one where Nat is despeare and soaking wet. Her and her partenrs get caught but Nat didn't notice cause she was orgasming ?

And idk the rest ?

Almost Caught

Natasha romanoff x fem!reader

Warnings: smut, kinda public sex, fingering, switch!natasha, switch!reader

Natasha and you were in the living room in the compound watching some James Bond movies when you started to get really horny. You didn’t know exactly why and why it’s getting worse as time passed on but you couldn’t control yourself when your sexy ass ex assassin girlfriend was beside you. You put one of your hands underneath the covers and started caressing her thigh. Natasha didn’t do anything at first but when your hand started to go higher and higher that’s when she put her hands on top of yours over the cover and gave you a knowing look.

“Not right now dekta. Anyone can walk in.” Natasha explained and you gave her a pout and puppy dog eyes that you knew she couldn’t refuse. “Pleaseee…I can already tell you are wet…let me take care of it for you mommy…” you begged your girlfriend and she looked around the room to make sure no one was around and she gave you a small nod of confirmation. You didn’t waste anymore time and slide your hand into her black shorts and was met with soaked underwear. You smirked at her and she gave you a look that said “shut up” which made you smirk even more.

“Look how wet and desperate you are for me nat…” you said lowly as you rubbed your fingers through her soaked folds. “Just fuck me alright y/n…” she begged as she closed her eyes at the pleasure. You obeyed and stuck a finger in her slowly and felt her take a deep breath in. “You’re so wet that I could already put in another finger.” You said cockily as you slid another finger in and started pumping them in and out of her. “F-fuck! Y/n…d-don’t stop! Gonna cum!” She moaned out as she grinded herself on your fingers. What you noticed was you felt like someone was watching you and you looked behind you to see the whole team watching you and staring.

You were about to scream at them for being perverts but nat decided to scream out loud as she orgasmed all over your hand. After she was complete done that’s when you lost your shit. “What the fuck guys! Why are you still here watching us!” You yelled out and nat quickly looked up to see your pissed off face and the shocked/turned on faces of your teammates. Nat felt her blood boil and gave the the deadly death glare she could manage and they ran away apologizing profusely, but later nat will make sure that they won’t ever spy on y’all again. “Hey you okay nat? I’m sorry we should have waited…” you apologized to her and she shook her head.

“It’s okay dekta. You didn’t know that they would do that and plus I was pretty horny myself so thank you for taking care of me and don’t worry, later, I’ll kill them.” She said and growled at the end which made you giggle. “Now…let me return the favor, but let’s finish this in our room.”

A/n: I hope the anon and the rest of y’all enjoyed this! Requests are still open for all of my characters including of course Rhea ripley/Demi Bennett. I have my own buy me a coffee page! You can give me a dollar and it will help. I also have some different commission types I will do so here's my page to look into it :) https://www.buymeacoffee.com/naturesapphic Requests are open for yeehaw!wanda, country!wanda, and any other southern variants of Wanda or Natasha! Remember to stay hydrated and to rest! I love y'all!

[underoospeterparker]

CONGRATS ON UR MILESTONE BABY!!! i’d like to request 🪸 CORALS !! with the idea of cowboy!james and innocent!reader in mind teeheeee <333

YAY babe thank you so much ily!!! challenged myself to use some slang hehehe

join the celebration

cowboy!james potter x innocent!fem!reader, 0.9k words, hurt/comfort, angsty

tw: (slight) violence, blood mention, toxic ex, swearing

James strolled over with the confidence of a man who'd already won his race. "How're you ladies doing tonight?" He asked you and your friends, leaning over to plant a kiss on your forehead.

"Well, bless your heart for asking," Mary Rose blushed, "we're fairin' just fine," she added, a huge smile on her face. James reciprocated it, but it wasn't as pleasant as hers had been.

When she turned around, you rolled your eyes and James chuckled, taking a seat next to you. "No need for jealousy, darlin', you know I'm all yours," he said, his voice deep and quiet. This time you were the one blushing, forced to hide your red face in the crook of his jacket.

It was a second later when you pulled away, and you noticed Mary Rose's glare from across the bench. James surveyed your eyes quickly, a touch of concern in his big brown eyes. "You alright there, sweetheart?"

You were quick to nod at him. Giving him your best smile, you asked, "when's that race of yours happening?"

He checked his watch on his wrist, then got up to stand. "Reckon it's about to start in a blink of an eye," he replied, grinning at you. "I'd be mighty honoured to have you by my side, darlin', will you come to cheer me on?"

Mary Rose was quick to speak up. "You bet your spurs we'll be there, cowboy!"

James looked at her with a small smile, then turned to you as she began getting her things ready. "I'll be front and centre," you reassured him, and his face brightened. "Wearin' my finest cowgirl hat," you added, giggling softly. "Now go show 'em how it's done."

Your boyfriend saluted you and head off to the races. "Yeehaw," Nellie squealed, tugging at your arm as you laughed along with her. "Let's mosey on down, ladies!"

While you climbed down the stands, hand-in-hand with Nellie, Mary Rose pulled you aside, her grip tight on your arm. "Don't think for a moment I didn't notice you cozying up with my ex. You better watch your back, partner!" Mary Rose's nails dug into your skin, drawing blood. She pulled away when Laura called her over, waving with a fake smile on her face.

You winced as you looked down at your arm, crescent moons left in her wake. You covered it up as best as you could, pulling your jacket on although it was mighty hot outside. Then, you returned to the race tracks to watch James ride.

"Ladies and gentlemen, gather 'round," the announcer clapped his hands excitedly, "we've got a lineup of fine cowboys ready to tear up that track. Among 'em, we got James Potter!" The crowd roared with enthusiasm as James made his way onto the track, a massive grin on his face. You waved happily at him when he blew a kiss to you good-naturedly.

Mary Rose turned around to look at you, glaring. "Say, (Y/N), I need to make a trip to the outhouse. Would you be so kind as to join me?"

You couldn't refuse, not with all of the girls surrounding you, so you nodded, even though James was about to ride. Mary Rose would have done much worse if you hadn't.

She gave you a smile, then pressed a heavy hand to your back, leading you to the bathroom. James, however, noticed your disappearance soon after, and swiftly mounted his horse. He quickly rose over to where the girls were stood. "Where might I find (Y/N), ma'am?" He asked Nellie pleasantly.

Nellie pointed over to the outhouse, and James nodded, saying, "much obliged, my friend."

He climbed over the fence, although the announcer was yelling at him to get back over and on his horse. James started to jog over to the bathroom, starting to get worried. "Shucks," he said under his breath, swinging the door open to find you cowering in a corner, a bruise blossoming across your face.

You managed to gain some confidence, however, and you struck a painful punch across Mary Rose's face, so hard that she stumbled backwards. "You bitch! I'm gonna-"

James stepped between the two of you. "Hold your horses," he said, his face hard. "I'd never lay a hand against a lady, but you raised a finger against my sweetheart. So I'd suggest you keep your distance."

With tears in her eyes, Mary Rose nodded and stepped out of the way. James turned to you, nothing but care and worry in his eyes as he surveyed the damage.

"James," you murmured softly, "any reason you're lingering 'round here instead of hittin' the track?"

He smiled, "I gotta take care of my girl, y'know? She's my top priority." James cupped your cheek, face softening when you grimaced in pain. "Shhh, I'm sorry, sweetheart," he crooned over you, wrapping you up in his arms, "don't you worry. I'm gonna take good care of you." He paused, making sure you were listening. "And I ain't one to make empty promises, darlin'."

You smiled up at him. "No doubt in my mind, cowboy."

[juyeonszn]

SACRIFICE (EAT ME UP)

PAIRING lee hyunjae x f!reader

WORD COUNT 9.17k

GENRES horror ﹒ smut ﹒ angst ﹒ fluff ig?

WARNINGS 18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT, mature language, mentions of murder, descriptions of crime scenes, mentions of blood, mentions of knifes, graphic description of stab wounds, mentions of potential mental illness, THERE ARE SO MANY THINGS THAT CONSTITUTE WARNINGS BUT ?!1?1 I DONT WANT TO SPOIL !1!2!2, Lots of Kissing, mutual masturbation (f! receiving fingering & m! receiving hand job), pillow talk ig, big dick hyunjae 😈, um unprotected sex lol be safe u silly geese, car sex, cowgirl position yeehaw, creampie, this entire fic is just a whole fucking roller coaster i stg it’s gonna haunt me forever

SUMMARY with a serial killer running rampant on campus, everyone around you seems to be dropping like flies. but, hey, at least you have hyunjae to protect you.

MORE omg.. my first written work for tbz 🙀 extra super fun fact; this was originally an idea i had for hyunjin from skz on my other blog that i actually started writing the week before halloween last year (the reason it’s a horror fic), but i never finished and sort of felt like there was no point in continuing it after a while— that is until i stumbled upon the draft a few weeks ago and decided to revamp, edit, and complete it 😋 i kept going back and rereading and then blanking when i wanted to add to it until last night when i said fuck it and drank two cups of coffee to power through the end 🙌 anyways.. here u all go, my baby that i never thought would see the light of day and my first time writing a genuine horror piece <3 also special shoutout to rina my soulmate @tsukidou for beta reading 🫶

PLAYLIST sacrifice (eat me up) — enhypen, awake — the boyz, roar — the boyz, fever — enhypen, fate — enhypen, taste — stray kids, wake up — ateez, white noise — pvris, heaven — pvris

“Alright, that’s all for today’s lecture. If this was your last of the day, make sure to find someone to go home with and remember the curfew rules!” Your English professor says, concluding the class.

The students around you rush to pack up their things and get off of campus as soon as possible. You don’t seem to be in a hurry, though, taking your time to put away your notebook and laptop. Your roommates were still in their music production class, so you didn’t want to go home alone, deciding to wait until they were done.

“Y/N, don’t you wanna get home?” Professor Park asks, her voice echoing in the now empty lecture hall. She throws the strap of her bag over her shoulder and pushes her glasses up the bridge of her nose.

“I do, but I have to wait for my roommates. They’re in a class right now and I’d rather not go by myself.” You let out an awkward laugh. She nods at your reasoning, giving you a small smile for comfort.

“Okay, you be careful! I’ll see you on Thursday.”

You raise your hand in a silent salutation, watching as she exits the room, leaving you completely alone. Though a public space, in a public building, the fact that there’s no one else nearby leaves you utterly unsettled. Your stomach churns with a twinge of fear and you start to feel a bit claustrophobic despite being in such a spacious area, so you choose this point to hurriedly collect your belongings and get the hell out of there.

The past couple of months have been in this weird state of limbo. You don’t recall exactly when the killings started, but once the police noticed a pattern, everyone knew sooner or later that the presence of a serial murderer would be announced on the local news. Your town enforced a citywide curfew to protect its citizens, but mostly the students at your university.

Every single one of the killer’s victims were university students. You were friends with a bunch of guys and while it was nice having big strong men surrounding you, you knew that could hardly do anything to quell the lingering anxiety you’ve felt ever since the spree began.

The police seemed to be having trouble coming up with any possible suspects, or even gaining any leads, thanks to the killer’s unusual victimology and the cool down time between murders always varying. If the people in charge of protecting you couldn’t do that, how were you supposed to feel safe?

In an attempt to get to the building where Jacob, Kevin, and Eric were as fast as you could, you speed walk out of the lecture hall, accidentally bumping into someone. You bow at a nearly ninety-degree angle and hurl out apology after apology following the collision, not trying to make any enemies in this day and time.

“Watch where you’re going, idiot.” The stranger spits, waiting for you to glance up at him to give you a nasty glare. He looks like the kind of guy who thought he was all that, despite peaking in high school. You feel your bottom lip quiver and you avoid eye contact.

“I—”

“Woah, dude, chill the fuck out. It was an accident, I’m sure she didn’t— wait, N/N, is that you? Hey it’s okay, don’t worry about it.”

There’s a familiar voice in your ears and a hand under your chin, forcing you to stand upright. Whoever you bumped into walks away with a scoff. You meet eyes with Lee Hyunjae, one of your dearest friends. He recognizes that hint of panic in your features and he frowns.

“I’m so sorry, Jae, I wasn’t paying attention to where I was going—” Your breath is caught in your throat and you fumble over your words.

“Hey, hey, slow down,” he keeps a hold on your biceps. “It’s alright, I promise. He’s gone. What’s wrong?”

You shut your eyes tightly, feeling pathetic for causing such a scene for no apparent reason. Hyunjae guides you through your breathing, his focus trained on you the whole time. He always made you feel so comfortable.

“With everything that’s been going on, I’m just so paranoid and afraid of being alone. I wanted to go to the music department building and wait for the boys.” You finally explain once you’ve calmed down and the rise of your chest is even.

“How about this? I’ll take you home so you don’t have to stay on campus any longer.” He suggests, bringing up a hand to tuck some hair behind your ear. You nod slowly, gathering your bearings.

Hyunjae leads you to his car that’s parked in the lot closest to the building you were just in and the two of you make your way to your apartment. You’d been friends with your roommates for years now, meeting in eighth grade. You had just moved schools and happened to be put into a class with Eric Sohn, the most rambunctious boy you’d ever met. He thought you seemed really sweet upon first impression and decided to befriend you, introducing you to all of his friends in turn.

Aside from Eric, there was Sangyeon, Jacob, Younghoon, Hyunjae, Juyeon, Kevin, Changmin, Chanhee, Haknyeon, and Sunwoo. While it was a little overwhelming, it was nice going from zero friends to eleven in the span of just a couple days. You were pretty close to all of them, but you and Hyunjae initially hit it off the best. You understood each other on a different level than everyone else and to this day, you still don't know the exact reason why.

Towards the end of high school, your friendship with Hyunjae transformed into something that wasn’t purely platonic. You weren’t entirely sure when it started to change, but your feelings for him grew exponentially. You tried to keep them to yourself, hidden from the world to preserve your fragile teenage heart. Though you’d already been friends with them a few years at that point, you still had that inkling of dread in the pit of your stomach that one day they’d choose to stop talking to you. You especially didn’t want a silly crush to be the cause of that.

After a while, however, the lines began to blur together anyway and everyone could tell you felt for him romantically. Once, Eric had made a comment about it being so painfully obvious that Hyunjae was just as into you and it nearly shook your whole world.

When college time rolled around, you all knew you’d be attending the same university, so picking roommates was a bit of a tricky situation. You chose yours solely based on the fact that you were majoring in similar things, so it’d be easy to fit schedules together. (You also couldn’t handle being roommates with Hyunjae; it’d be too much for your heart.) Hyunjae lived with Juyeon, Changmin, and Sunwoo, while Sangyeon, Younghoon, Chanhee, and Haknyeon lived together.

Hyunjae parks in a spot near the stairs that lead to your unit. The car is still running when you unbuckle your seatbelt and you stare at the steps blankly. Though the close proximity with him has your pulse racing, you want nothing more than some company until your roommates get home. You turn to him shyly, balling up a fistful of your sweater.

“Jae, do you— do you think you could stay with me for a bit before the boys come back? I don’t— I really don’t wanna be alone right now.”

The look he gives you is full of adoration, like you personally put the stars in the sky. He smiles softly and nods, reaching across the center console to place a comforting hand on top of yours. The two of you keep them intertwined as you go inside your apartment, locking all the locks carefully before sitting on your couch.

You don’t make a comment about him not letting go despite already being in the safety of your home. You don’t say anything about him pulling you into his side either, mostly because you want him to.

With all that’s been happening recently, you’ve felt so hollow. There was this indescribable emptiness expanding in you and even though you so desperately wanted to chalk it up to something else, you knew it was due to the fact that there was growing anxiety that you could be next, that any of your friends could be next. You were starting to move like you were in a simulation, doing everything in your daily routine without a single emotion. Sure, you’d laugh when Eric made a stupid joke but that’s about the most anyone could get from you aside from the occasional panic attack.

Hyunjae being here and holding you is exactly what you needed to feel some semblance of warmth again.

There’s a soft knock on your bedroom door around eight that same night, waking you from your slumber. You don’t remember falling asleep or being moved to your bed, so you’re not too sure when Hyunjae left. You rub the sleep from your eyes as you get up to open your door.

“Hey, I didn’t mean to wake you, but we got some takeout if you’re hungry.” Jacob says with an apologetic smile, leaning on the door frame.

You give him a bleary look as you nod, following him into the dining room where your other two roommates were sitting at the table. Eric greets you through a full mouth. A small laugh escapes you when you sit across from him, Kevin adjacent to your seat. The sound of the TV in the living room plays as background noise as the four of you eat.

“So when’d you get home? I thought you were gonna wait for us.” Kevin asks.

“I was, but then I ran into Hyunjae when I was on my way to your building and he offered to bring me home,” you shrug, taking some tteokbokki with your chopsticks. “It was a whole thing, please don’t ask.”

Eric hums to himself, a mischievous grin on his face as he takes a sip of his cola. “Interesting. And you say he’s not into you…”

Heat blooms over your cheeks and you accidentally drop your chopsticks on your plate, their clacking against the ceramic garnering your roommates’ attention. Eric Sohn was now number one on your hit list. Kevin elbows him in the side and tells him to be quiet, despite the tiny upwards curve of his lips.

“If he cares about you as much as he seems like he does, he wouldn’t have left you here alone after you fell asleep,” Jacob mutters, looking at you from his peripherals. “What was the point of escorting you home if—”

“Jacob shut the fuck up,” Eric suddenly blurts, the three of you stare at him as he clambers over to the living room, turning up the volume on the TV. “Look!”

You turn in your chair, your stomach churning at the news report unfolding before you.

“We’re live just outside SNU, where another victim has been found. The body hasn’t been identified yet, but from what we do know, he was a student that attended the school,” the female reporter says into the microphone she’s holding, a glazed over expression in her eyes. “Crime Scene Investigators believe he was murdered at around six this evening, and was assumed to have been making his way home from campus. Updates are expected to come later tonight once we have more information.”

You know that far away, checked out gaze she had all too well. She’s reported on the killings for a while now, no doubt numb to the way things were at this point.

Your appetite spoils immediately and you excuse yourself from the table, making your way back to your room. You sit on your bed and bring your knees to your chest, taking a deep breath in, then covering your mouth when you breathe out to muffle the sob that follows. It was becoming too overwhelming for you and there was nothing you could do about it besides sit back and watch.

It was understandable for anyone in your situation to feel hopeless, how could they not? With someone terrorizing the city in an unpredictable manner, there was no sense of normalcy in anyone’s life. You shudder when you finally bring yourself to stop crying, digging your nails into the fat of your calves.

Through the walls, you can hear the boys talking, voices solemn.

“Why’d you have to put the TV louder, dumbass?”

“Sorry, I just like being up to date on the case, you know? I want to be prepared. What if I need to learn clone jutsu to take out the guy?”

“Eric, you’re such a clown, oh my god.”

“I get that you’re interested and all, but you have to be mindful of Y/N. You know how much this has affected her both emotionally and physically, she doesn’t need the constant reminder that it’s happening. And I’d appreciate if you apologized for telling me to ‘shut the fuck up’.”

There’s a snort in between.

“My bad, I didn’t mean to be rude about it. But while we’re on the topic, I think we both need to admit our mistakes. What you said about Hyunjae to her wasn’t cool either. I know we’re all friends, but it just came across too—”

“It was really snappy, Jacob. And a bit petty.”

“Yeah! What Kevin said.”

“I— you’re right. I just don’t want her getting hurt, in more ways than one.”

You don’t hear much else from the trio and sigh heavily, dragging your hands down your face and wiping your eyes with the heels of your palms. You grab your phone from your nightstand and hesitantly search for Hyunjae’s contact, the line ringing a couple times before he answers.

“Y/N? Is everything okay? Did something happen?”

“N-no, I’m fine. I was just— I wanted to check on you and make sure you were okay,” you mess with your bottom lip. “I heard there was another victim and I didn’t know when you left the apartment, so I just— uh— I just needed to know that you were safe. I called to see if you’d answer.”

You squeeze your eyes shut out of embarrassment, even if he can’t exactly see you. The stuttering was enough to make you go into hiding for the rest of your life if this serial killer didn’t.

“Oh,” you can hear the slight chuckle in his response from the way his breath hits the speaker. “It means a lot that you’d do that, N/N. Really, I appreciate you so much.”

Your lip finds itself between your teeth and your heart is pounding unbearably fast, you think you might be having a heart attack. You bring a hand up to clutch at your chest as a fuzzy feeling courses through your whole being.

Now you were scared for an entirely different reason.

(The main one occupies your mind again later that night when you scroll through your Twitter feed, only to find out the most recent victim was the guy you accidentally bumped into. You feel like some sick version of a guardian angel was looking after you. It makes it hard to fall asleep after that.)

A couple days passed and you found yourself thinking about Lee Hyunjae more than usual.

Not to say that you didn’t already think about him at least once a day, but now it was worse. When you woke up, you wondered if he was still asleep. While you drank your morning coffee, you wondered if it’d taste sweeter had he made it for you. When you had lunch, you wondered if he’d like the spam musubi you made yourself. When you attended your other classes, you wondered which courses he was struggling with this semester.

As you were walking out of your English class, you recalled running into him. Had he not been there, you might’ve driven yourself insane trying to rush over to the music building while diffusing the issue with that stranger.

When you first began to harbor feelings for him, you assumed it would become nothing more than a silly schoolgirl crush. He was attractive and kind to you, but that was just the bare minimum— you thought you’d grow out of it. However, as time went on, what you thought was just puppy love had blossomed into something stronger. It was a force to be reckoned with.

Of course, all of that had been tossed on the back burner with everything that’s going on. Recently you’ve been too afraid for your own safety and well-being to over analyze your interactions with Hyunjae, but now you’re back to square one.

All because he’d done something nice for you.

God, the bar was so low. Was it really too much to ask for someone who was decent? Someone who wasn’t a serial killer?

You were on your way to the music building to wait for Jacob, Kevin, and Eric once again, when you see Hyunjae coming down the hall. He’s on his phone, not paying any mind to his surroundings. You’re about to call out to him when someone stops you, tugging on the sleeve of your sweater gently.

“Hey, Y/N right?” The tall boy asks, a charming smile on his face.

“Uh— yeah,” you nod, tucking some hair behind your ear. “Y-you are?”

“Oh my god! I’m so sorry! I must seem like a total weirdo,” he laughs, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. “I’m Mingyu! We have English together.”

“Oh, you’re Mingyu? Professor Park told me about you before class today,” you give him a small comforting smile. “I don’t mind helping you!”

“Ah, that’s great to hear. I was a bit worried you’d be more annoyed about having to tutor someone so late in the semester.” Though he’s much taller than you and approached you first, Mingyu comes across as a little shy in nature. It puts you at ease in a way.

“No, not at all! English isn’t always the easiest, I get that. I wanna help as much as I can before finals. Look,” you pause, pulling your backpack off one shoulder to rip out a sheet of paper. “I’ll give you my number so we can arrange meet up dates! I’d prefer if we met at the library if that’s okay with you?”

Mingyu grins and sports a thumbs up in agreement. “That sounds perfect. Thank you so much, Y/N!”

You scribble your phone number onto the paper and hand it to him before parting ways. With the off guard conversation, you nearly forgot about Hyunjae, who was nowhere to be seen now. You feel your lips droop into a frown, since you were hoping you could talk with him for a second.

As you’re walking across the quad to the music building, a wind chill blows past you, making you wrap your arms around yourself. It was mid November and for some stupid reason, you were only wearing a small cardigan.

When you squint up at the sky, you also realize it’s more overcast than anything. There’s an angry grey cloud right above you and you curse yourself for not having an umbrella or a raincoat. You should've been more prepared, especially because of the inconsistent weather this time of year.

Suddenly, the sky is blocked from your view and you furrow your brows, spinning around. Hyunjae stares back at you with a smile ten times warmer than the frigid air surrounding you and a thicker jacket in one hand. The other holds up an umbrella just as tiny droplets begin to fall from above.

His timing couldn’t have been better.

“Heading to the music building?” He asks, skillfully placing the coat on your shoulders.

“Mhm… was gonna wait for the boys.” You respond, a little awestruck by how gorgeous he was. Especially up close. Your eyes fixate on the freckle on his nose rather than his own. He hums, keeping an arm around your shoulders as he leads you in a different direction.

“I can take you home again,” he glances down at you. “I don’t mind one bit.”

“O-okay!”

During the car ride to your apartment, you send a quick text to your roommates about not waiting up. You were happy that your relationship with Hyunjae was evolving. The past couple semesters had been rough, and you hadn’t seen him or any of the other guys nearly as much as Jacob, Kevin, and Eric. (And that was only because you lived with them.)

You toss your keys on to the mini table beside the front door, taking off your shoes with a small groan. The boots were cute, but not very comfortable. Hyunjae follows suit, his sock clad feet shuffling against the floor to sit on the couch.

After switching on the TV, you find a random Hallmark Christmas movie to play in the background, knowing full well that his presence beside you was too distracting. The brunette turns to face you, placing a hand on your thigh gently to get your attention.

“So, who was the dude you were talking to earlier?”

You blink at his question. So he saw you after all. Was he perhaps jealous? The idea shouldn’t make you giddy, but it does. “My professor asked me to tutor him ‘cause he’s struggling with English. Why?”

“Just curious. He seemed a little touchy.” Hyunjae plays with the hem of your sweater.

“O-oh. It’s fine, he wasn’t a random perv, if that’s what you were wondering.”

He scoots a little closer to you, tucking some hair behind your ear. You feel your face flush impossibly hotter. Your heart is racing and your breath is caught in your throat. His body heat radiates off of him with the new proximity.

“Good. It drives me crazy seeing other guys put their hands on you.” He admits bluntly, his hand resting at the junction where your neck meets your shoulder.

You know you look insane, your chest heaving up and down and your eyes widened a little. Like a baby deer caught by a predator. Who knew sweet sweet Hyunjae had a rather risqué side to him? You swallow thickly, not daring to move an inch. His thumb caresses your skin gently, goosebumps littering in its wake.

“Hyunjae…” You breathe, lips parting as you finally make eye contact with him.

“You’re so pretty, Y/N.”

You want to scream into the cushion behind you, your hands clamming up. Hyunjae looks like he could swallow you whole if he wanted to, his bottom lip between his teeth as he leans in a bit more. This moment was something straight out of one of your darkest fantasies. You never thought this would ever happen, that either of you would ever actually make a move on the other.

The sound of the front door unlocking catches both of your attention. Hyunjae pulls away from you faster than your brain can comprehend what exactly just occurred. Jacob is the first to walk in, laughing at something Eric said. The three males pause when they see you’re not alone.

The greetings are quick, Hyunjae dapping up the boys as if nothing. He’s also quick to say goodbye, ensuring them that he’ll make sure you’re safe when they’re not around. He gives you that smile of his, the one where his eyes form crescents, and then he’s gone.

You don’t know how much more of this you could take.

“So, Y/N…” Eric starts in the middle of dinner, side eyeing you as he shovels rice into his mouth. “You and Hyunjae have been together an awful lot lately.”

Kevin snorts, kicking the blonde under the table. You suppose it was going to come up eventually. This ‘Will They, Won’t They’ back and forth shit was starting to tire you out. You weren’t getting any younger. Time was passing you up the longer you waited to just say something. And with all that’s been going on, it was silly to be afraid of admitting your feelings.

“He’s being a good friend, Eric,” Jacob sighs, reaching across to flick him on the forehead. “It’s actually really nice that he watches over Y/N when we’re gone.”

Eric grimaces, rubbing the spot that Jacob assaulted. You frown a bit when you realize that he had a point. Hyunjae was treating you like a child that had to be tended to, babysitting you like you weren’t capable of holding your own. Granted, both times he’s come over, you asked him to. So you couldn’t really blame him for assuming you wanted him around to protect you.

“Do y’all think Hyunjae actually likes me? In a non-platonic way?”

Kevin’s spoon clatters onto the floor and they all pause their banter to look at you. Every time your feelings for Hyunjae were brought up, you chose to ignore them and switch the subject. You can’t keep running away.

“Uh— yeah. Duh. Of course he does. I don’t know anyone else who would go out of their way to stay with someone they saw as just a friend multiple times a week so she felt safe.” Kevin finally answers after a moment.

“Okay.” You settle on, taking a sip of your water.

“What do you mean ‘okay’?” He raises an eyebrow at you, but you just shrug.

“That’s for me to know and you to find out.”

As you’re washing the dishes after dinner, you hear the news broadcast over the faucet. Another victim had just been found behind the campus library. The camera shows the scene behind the reporter, something that would’ve made you queasy a couple days ago, but now you feel nothing— just a dull ache in your chest. It’s messy, almost like the killer was in a hurry to get it over with.

The body is covered with a black tarp, paramedics wheeling it away in the corner of the screen. The reporter still wears that dissociated expression on her face as she goes over the details of this victim. She explains that because the murder was done so haphazardly, they were able to identify the body easily.

Twenty three year old Kim Mingyu, Sports Med Major.

The rest of the news report sounds like static in your ears as you scrub away at the dishes mindlessly. Your fingers have pruned and the water was burning the backs of your hands, but you don’t feel it, too checked out to care. It seemed like the killings were getting closer and closer to you. Part of you thought you’d be next every single time.

You had to tell Hyunjae how you felt. It was now or never.

Fifteen minutes later, he’s waiting outside of your apartment complex, leaning against his car. You take careful steps down the stairs, nearly fainting at the sight of him in a hoodie and grey sweatpants. He runs around the car to open the passenger door for you, only shutting it when you’re all buckled up. It’s not long after that he revs the engine and drives off to nowhere in particular, just like you requested. (Curfew ignored.)

It’s silent at first, save for the low hum of his music, R&B that resonates somewhere within your soul. You can’t help but steal a glance from your peripheral, fisting your sweatshirt when you see how concentrated he looks while driving. He has his right hand resting on the gear shift, the other gripping the wheel. You could’ve had this view all to yourself so long ago had you just spoken up.

“Hyunjae,” your voice is wobbly, but you steel yourself to continue. “I have something to tell you.”

“What is it?” He asks, keeping his eyes on the road.

“Do you think— uh— do you think you could pull over?” If you were going to confess, you wanted him to look at you. Besides, the drive was starting to make you jittery.

He nods and goes a bit further, before pulling into an empty lot. He shifts into park, unbuckling his seatbelt so he could turn his body towards you, giving you his undivided attention. You mirror him, tightening your hold on your sweater when he wets his lips, smiling at you. “Is this what you called me for?”

“Yeah, actually,” you force yourself to keep eye contact, pushing the lump back down your throat. “I’ve wanted to tell you this for years now, if I’m being honest with both of us.”

He chuckles, much like he did the other night over the phone. It drives you just a little crazy. “I’m listening.”

“I— I don’t know how to word this properly…” You wipe your palms on your legs. Come on, Y/N, spit it out already. “Fuck, okay, I like you Hyunjae. Like, really like you. In the way that I sometimes wish you would kiss me until I can’t breathe. I’ve been so afraid of admitting that to myself, but I’ve realized that life is way too short to dwell over the fear of rejection. But please, tell me you feel the same.”

He stares at you with an indecipherable look in his eyes. You feel like throwing up now, you stomach twisting and churning at the thought that you just ruined everything between you. There was no going back after this. He knew.

It’s as if months have passed by in utter silence with Hyunjae just sitting there, no words coming out of his mouth, until finally, he just leans across the center console, cupping your cheek with one of his hands. His vision is trained on your lips, his face close enough that his lashes flutter against your skin. God, he was even more gorgeous from this distance.

Instead of saying anything, he presses his lips to yours, a sweet but desperate kiss that melts away all the worries tucked into your head. They feel so soft on your own, molding together in near perfect timing. It’s like you’d been living for a year without rain and this kiss was the shower that saved you from a drought. It’s all you’ve ever wanted and needed and more.

“You have no idea how long I’ve been wanting to do that,” he breathes when he pulls away slightly. “The real thing is so much better than I imagined it would be.”

For once, time slows down in this moment, almost like the world stopped spinning on its axis. Everything slips from your mind and it’s just you and Hyunjae, here in his car in the middle of an empty parking lot. Nothing else matters. You smile at his confession, a genuine smile that was spurred on by contentment rather than force. You felt light and airy, no longer weighed down by such a trivial problem.

“I think I have an idea,” you giggle, reaching up to brush a stray hair from his face. “I’m not too sure, though, I could be wrong. Could you do that again to help jog my memory?”

Hyunjae laughs, (it’s the most melodic sound you’ve ever heard) but doesn’t hesitate to kiss you. You reciprocate his passion, tangling your fingers in his dark hair. He sighs into the kiss, pulling you on top of him. Your legs straddle his lap as best as they can and he reaches down to recline his seat, scooting it as far as it can go from the wheel. The thin material of your fleece shorts hardly hide the feeling of him under you, a low moan pushing into his mouth.

He nips at your bottom lip, tugging at it with his teeth gently before peppering kisses along your jaw and neck, sucking along the exposed skin from your sweatshirt. You whine, throwing your head back as his tongue soothes over the bruising area. His hands slide under your top, rubbing up and down your sides before moving them down to your thighs, repeating the action.

“You’re so gorgeous on top of me like this, Y/N.” Hyunjae says, just above a whisper like someone else might hear this intimate conversation. He grips your hips and bucks upwards to grind into your clothed core. Your eyes widen and you involuntarily moan at the sensation. This wasn’t what you were expecting when you planned to confess, but you didn’t hate the outcome. He grins at your response, reconnecting your mouths sloppily.

If you were given the choice, you were wholeheartedly satisfied with just this. You would’ve been plenty okay with just making out. Had you been asked years ago that you’d even get this far, you would’ve snorted in your own face, so why should you be greedy and want more than what you had? (That’s not to say that you didn’t.)

“H-Hyunjae,” you stutter, your brain foggy from all of the kissing you just did. “Do you…?”

You trail off, not sure how to word your question. You didn’t want to come off like a sex crazed maniac, but you didn’t want to come off like an amateur virgin either. Truth of the matter is, you were neither, but it had been a while since you indulged yourself in something of this sort. And this time it would be with Hyunjae, the one person you never thought you’d do this with. You were nervous.

All you wanted was to be entwined with him in more ways than one. You wanted all of him— the good, the bad, the ugly, the beautiful, the sick, the healthy. He could do no wrong on your eyes and you wanted to show him that.

“Do I…?” Hyunjae trails off, waiting for you to continue.

“Do you want to make love… with me?” This had to be the single most mortifying moment of your life. You cover your face in humiliation, shying away from him when he sits up on his elbows.

“What kind of question is that?” He asks with a chuckle, prying your hands from your face so he could look you in the eyes. “If I could make love to you every hour of the day, for seven days a week, I would. I want you all the time, Y/N. Earlier today, before we got interrupted, I wanted to do unimaginable things to you.”

You hide yourself in the crook of his neck, your skin flushing hotter. Weren't you wearing too many layers? The car was starting to feel stuffy. Hyunjae’s chest rumbles with laughter beneath you, pressing his lips to the shell of your ear. This is probably the gentlest he’d be with you all night, because from what you could infer, he was a manhandler.

“Take care of me,” you breathe, mouth brushing against his pulse point. “Please.”

Hyunjae stops holding himself back. He’d do whatever you asked of him, only hoping you’d be tied to him in every lifetime, just like this one. He kisses you again with an unrivaled fervor, slipping his hands inside your sweatshirt and touching you everywhere physically possible. They’re warm on your skin, palming your breasts over the flimsy fabric of your bralette.

He helps you get rid of your top and shorts, leaving you in just undergarments. The sight of you barely clothed sends him into a frenzy, especially knowing it’s for his eyes only. You aid Hyunjae in pulling off his hoodie and yanking his sweatpants down his long legs. The minute most of your restrictions are gone, Hyunjae brings you closer to him. He hisses at the contact, the warmth of your cunt through your panties putting him under a spell.

You whimper when his touch travels down your front, sneaking into the waistband of your underwear. The pads of his middle and ring fingers apply the lightest amount of pressure onto your clit the second he finds it, circling the sensitive bundle of nerves. Your nails on one hand dig into his shoulder while the other trails down his abdomen, rubbing up and down his length through his boxer briefs.

Hyunjae groans into your kiss and you gasp for air as you tear from him, resting your forehead on his to watch as you get each other off through your clothes. If earlier was something taken from one of your wet dreams, what did this constitute as? You clench around nothing when he pushes up into you, your wrists clashing. Knowing he was just as down bad for you as you were for him just made this all that much more real.

“I need to feel you around me,” he mumbles in your ear, dipping his fingers in and out of you languidly as if to explain what he meant. “Let me stretch you out.”

You nod in response, fumbling with his briefs. Hyunjae lifts his hips enough for you to help him out of them. You groan when he reveals his impressive size, wondering how exactly he expected you to take him. He pushes your panties to the side, mimicking the sound you just made when he sees your bare pussy drooling for him. You eventually get frustrated and line him up with your hole, sinking down in one fluid motion. A voluminous moan escapes from the back of your throat, his dick throbbing achingly inside of you. At first you stay still like that, your pelvises touching as you adjust to his length and girth.

“H-holy shit— you’re s-so deep, Jae,” you cry, resting your forehead against his yet again. He pecks your lips, holding onto your hips to help you bounce on his cock, practically impaling you every single time.

“Fuck, you’re taking me so well. Such a good fucking girl,” Hyunjae grunts, the warmth of your walls drawing him in even further. “So tight, too.”

Your thighs begin to burn and your movements become slower, which he takes note of instantaneously. He bends his knees and forces your upper half impossibly closer to him, thrusting up into you. This new angle allows him to find that one spongy spot that has you seeing stars, fogging up your brain and even your vision.

You cast a downward glance at the minimal space between where the two of you are connected. Your moans and whines grow louder with the view of every thrust of his hips into yours. Hyunjae sneaks his hand in the middle of you, his fingers expertly toying with your clit. Any more stimulation and the band in your stomach is snapping.

You’ve had sex before. You’ve slept with a handful of other guys in the past, but nothing could ever compare to this moment. Your cunt had already memorized his size and every vein, effectively ruining the chances of any other man doing this with you. Lee Hyunjae had you in a chokehold whether he realized it or not. He had you wrapped around his finger without really trying, but you could never complain.

Your walls squeeze his cock and he knows he won’t last much longer, shutting his eyes tightly. “C’mon baby, you gonna cum for me?”

“Mhm,” you whimper, your skin flush on his own. “Wanna cum so bad for you, Hyunjae.”

“Yeah? Me too, sweetheart,” he pants, the thumb on your hip pressing against the bone. “Where do you want me?”

“Inside,” you babble. “Please, please. I want you to cum inside me, Hyunjae.”

He kisses you softly just then, swallowing your pretty moans with something completely opposite of what he’s already given you, and that’s what sends you spiraling, fluttering around him. He groans, spilling into you and letting you milk him dry of everything he has to offer, painting your insides just like you asked him to.

You lay like that for a while, Hyunjae’s dick still buried in you to the hilt. Both of you attempt to catch your breaths and bring yourselves down from the well-anticipated euphoric state you just visited. You giggle at the condensation coating the windows of his car, extending your arm to draw a heart and a smiley face with your finger. He slowly pulls himself out, hissing at the sensitivity, but doesn’t make a move to get you off of his chest.

Where do you go from here? A line had just been crossed and you weren’t entirely sure you knew what he wanted from you. It’s one thing to imagine kissing and fucking someone extensively. But it was another to actually want a tangible, romantic relationship from them, to actually capacitate feelings for them.

“I love you,”

You jolt up and stare at him with widened eyes. Did those words really just come out of his mouth? As if he can read your mind, he nods. There’s a dragged out sigh, followed by him sitting up slightly with you perched on his lap.

“I really do, Y/N. I’ve felt this way for years and I’m willing to do anything for you.” He admits, tucking some of your hair behind your ear. You kiss him gently, the pad of your thumb swiping across his cheekbone.

“I love you, too.”

The Saturday after your night in Hyunjae’s car brought everything into perspective for you.

You hadn’t spoken to him since he dropped you off at your apartment and it was beginning to worry you. Even though you made sure he reciprocated your emotions, there still could’ve been a misunderstanding. Had you been too forward? Did you scare him away? Did something happen to him? Whatever the explanation was, you didn’t like the eerie feeling it started brewing in your stomach— it was foreboding.

In spite of not talking to them at all in what seemed to be a month or so, you tried calling each of your mutual friends to see if you could get some answers. Not even his roommates picked up their phones and this made you much more uneasy. You pace back and forth in your living room, nicking at your bottom lip with your nails. Why did he choose now of all times to ghost you? What went wrong?

Kevin comes out of his bedroom a couple minutes later, expecting to grab his morning coffee as usual. When he finds you nearly on the brink of insanity instead, he decides to intervene. He supposed his caffeine could wait until his best friend was calmed down. You jump in surprise, holding a fist to your chest. He raises his hands in mock surrender.

“Didn’t mean to startle you, my bad. What’s up? Why do you look like you’re going through a quarter life crisis?” Kevin asks you, pushing his glasses up his nose. “Is everything okay?”

“I—“ you pause and take a deep breath. “I don’t know…”

His eyebrows furrow and he guides you to the sofa so you could sit down. “What do you mean ‘you don’t know’?”

“Hyunjae hasn’t talked to me since Thursday night, after he brought me back here,” your voice is hoarser than you’d like it to be. “I-I texted and called him a bunch but he hasn’t replied. I even— I even tried Juyo, Sunwoo, and Changmin. No luck with them either. I’m concerned, Kev.”

Kevin combs through his hair, pursing his lips in thought. “Yeah, okay, I would be too. It's a little weird that none of them are responding. Have you thought of just showing up at his place to check in on him?”

You shake your head. “No, I didn’t want him to think I’m clingy and annoying in case he was there. What if he just wants to get me off of his back and he’s telling them to ignore me?”

“I don’t think that’s the case at all, Y/N,” your friend sighs, putting his glasses on top of his head and running a hand down his face. “Hyunjae has never been that kind of person in all the years we’ve known him. I highly doubt he’d switch up now. Plus, he’s literally crazy about you. I’m pretty sure the guy would move heaven and earth for you if he could. I think there’s a very real and genuine possibility that something is seriously wrong. It’s like— it’s just a gut feeling, you know?”

“Yeah, I know.” If Kevin felt this way, too, that would only mean one thing, right? You had to get to the bottom of this. There was a chance that lives depended on it. A quick roll of your neck and you’re standing. “I’m gonna go over there. I can’t leave things unanswered. I can’t wait for a fucking news report.”

The ravenette pats the top of your head. “Be careful, N/N. Please.”

You give him a nod before you’re slipping into your shoes and grabbing his car keys. You’re not exactly dressed for a confrontation if there is one— clad in a pair of sweatpants, an oversized sweatshirt with your university’s crest on it, and socks with sandals— but you were too preoccupied to care.

The drive itself was mentally taxing, your brain dissociating most of the ride. You’re not sure how many of the lights you passed were actually green. The closer you got to Hyunjae’s apartment, the more that trepidation settling in your lower abdomen grew. Throughout your life, you’d never been the type of person who acted on instinct or had a nagging voice in the rear of your head warning you about situations you got into. You usually went with the flow and if you made a mistake, you allowed yourself to learn from it.

However, that was prior to being thrown into a period of uncertainty like this one. Now, all you could do was act on instinct. All you could do was listen to the stupid nagging voice in the rear of your head yelling at you. All you could do was follow the blaring alarms and caution signs in your field of vision. And this time they were almost deafening.

Kevin’s car rolls to a stop outside of Hyunjae’s building, occupying an empty spot three away from the front of the stairs. Your pulse races when you step out of the vehicle and immediately recognize the cars in the spaces beside yours. Hyunjae’s, Juyeon’s, and Changmin’s. You notice a thin layer of dirt caking Juyeon and Changmin’s, as if they’d remained unmoved for a long time. Perturbed wasn’t a big enough word to describe what was going through your mind.

Half of you was terrified to take a step towards the stairs, let alone ascend them to Hyunjae’s floor. What would go down when you reached his apartment? What would happen the moment that door opened?

You ball your hands into fists, the edges of your nails jabbing the skin of your palms. The pain steels you enough to move forward, walking up the stairs slowly. There’s a chill tiptoeing along your spine the whole trip up, like your body knew what you were getting yourself into before you did. Maybe you were stupid. Only an idiot would lead themselves blindly into a scenario without knowing the outcome.

It’s been minutes of you staring at the slightly rusted numbers on Hyunjae’s door before you register that you’re standing in front of it. If you're being honest, you have no idea what you’re doing. You were acting on autopilot— progressing without a thought of what’s coming next. A shuddered breath leaves your lips and you raise your knuckles to the door.

The first knock is too soft to hear if the inhabitants were in their bedrooms, so you apply more force the second time. The sound reverberates through the hall, a wince appearing on your features. If someone was inside, surely they had to have heard that one. You wait a little longer for the door to swing open and reveal one of your friends looking perfectly fine. For Juyeon to showcase that grin of his that reaches his eyes and ask what you were doing here. For Changmin to give you that sweet smile that puffed up his cheeks and ask what you needed. For Sunwoo to blow a raspberry before he laughed at how silly you were for stressing over them. For Hyunjae to reassure you that it was all going to be okay, that he loved you. You were praying for that.

But no one showed up on the other end of that doorway and you were stuck glaring at that same painted board of wood.

That’s what sends your instincts into overdrive. Your hand grabs the knob, twisting it just in case. It makes a full rotation, pushing open the door the tiniest bit. You peek inside carefully and find all the lights in the living room and kitchen off. Your teeth bite down on your lip as you enter the apartment. One of the things you hated about it, was the annoying buzz of the fluorescent lights in their bathroom. And for some reason, that was all that infiltrated your ears.

The door for said bathroom was cracked just a tad at the end of the hallway, but what caught your attention was the room closest to you— also cracked the most miniscule amount. You see light filtering through, an almost orange glow like that of a desk lamp. Your stupidity would be your downfall, you conclude, your feet gravitating to the room. It’s Hyunjae’s you recall when you’re outside of it. They always say curiosity killed the cat, and you couldn’t help but revert to a feline and nudge it open with your foot.

You really wished that saying was just that— a saying.

Eric sits ahead of you, tied to a chair in the middle of the room. There’s a piece of fabric gagging his mouth and his clothes are tattered, blood staining nearly every inch. A long gash runs along his left bicep and a myriad of smaller cuts litter his face and arms. What your focus lands on first are the several deep stab wounds on his thighs.

A hand comes up to cup your mouth to keep yourself from screaming at the sight of your best friend in this position. He struggles against his restraints, muffled cries for your assistance shattering your heart into a thousand pieces like broken shards of glass. Tear streaks mixed with dried blood cover the apples of his cheeks.

“Oh my god, Eric,” your voice wobbles as you scramble to free him. “Oh my god…”

You pull down the fabric in his mouth first and he gasps for air. His eyes widen at something behind you and he warns, “Y/N—!” before he’s interrupted by your yelp. The person pressed into your back has their arm around your neck with a hold tight enough that you can’t escape, but loose enough that you can breathe, the blunt edge of a knife grazing the column of your throat.

“Tsk tsk, Youngjae. You should know that making so much noise when your killer’s not in the room just alerts them of suspicious activity. That’s survival 101, my friend. Isn’t that right, sweet sweet Y/N?”

No.

No. No. No. No. No.

This wasn’t happening.

This couldn’t be happening.

“Please, let her go, Hyunjae.” Eric begs. Hyunjae hums, nuzzling his nose in your hair. He rolls his eyes and scoffs after inhaling your scent, resting his chin on your shoulder.

“God, you’re a mouthy one. Not even Juyeon and Sunwoo were this chatty when I slit their throats— then again, it's not like they could talk much anyway.” He snorts.

You felt sick. You were lightheaded now, just at the thought of your friends gone. “W-why are you doing this?”

Hyunjae grumbles, pouting his lips. “Time for me to unravel my evil villain monologue, huh?” He slips a hand under your sweatshirt and pinches the side of your waist. “Well here it is; what you’re dying to know. The first incident was by complete accident, we were simply having a discussion about why he shouldn’t have been staring at your ass while his girlfriend was next to him at Jeong Jaehyun’s end of summer bonfire. The dude got pissed off that I called him out and tried to start a fight, but I shoved him so hard, he fell and hit his head on a rock. I just couldn’t find it in myself to feel bad about it so I left him there like nothing. From then on, anyone who came between us or remotely hurt you in any way wound up on the receiving end of this knife. Funny isn’t it? How you’re the one beneath it this time?”

It all began to fall into place once he laid the cards out on the table for you to read. The guy you ran into Tuesday after class. Poor Kim Mingyu, who just wanted to pass his English final. Your friends not picking up their phones. And supposedly it was all in the name of love.

“Y-you did that for me?”

“Of course, baby,” Hyunjae mutters into the shell of your ear. “I said I’d protect you didn’t I? I just want you all to myself.”

“What the fuck does that possessive bullshit have to do with me? What did it have to do with Juyo or Changmin or Sunwoo?” Eric cries. “Oh god, what about—?”

“Sangyeon, Hoon, Chanhee, Hak? Yeah, those four were taken care of way before my own roommates. You, obviously, were the chosen one this go around. Then it would be Kevin and lastly, Jacob. I planned on stopping after you three unless absolutely necessary.”

“How is any of this fucking necessary? You’re psychotic,” the blonde exclaims, still wriggling in his restraints. “Why would Y/N want you after all of this? Did you really believe she’d never find out about what you’ve done?”

Hyunjae glides the smooth edge of the blade against your skin and releases you from his grip, but takes a hold of your wrist, placing the handle in your grasp. He urges you forward, closer to Eric. “If she was scared of me, don’t you think she would’ve tried harder to escape me? Didn’t even blink when I held the knife to her neck.”

The brunette kisses your temple and you watch the fear in Eric’s eyes morph into defeat. “After everything we’ve been through? I’ve known you since eighth grade, Y/N. Eighth fucking grade. And this is how it ends?”

“H-he loves me,” you stutter, glancing at Hyunjae. “Don’t you?”

“You don’t kill your best friends out of love, Y/N! He’s insane! Please, don’t let him get into your head. You’re not that kind of person.” Eric attempts to reason.

Maybe you weren’t. Maybe you were. Who knows? That didn’t matter. What mattered was the fact that Hyunjae loved you. He loved you so much that he’d kill for you. Over and over and over again.

It was kind of comical that you loved him all the same. You, too, would kill for him. Over and over and over again.

© juyeonszn. do not steal, claim, or repost.

[mysteryshoptls]

SR Riddle Rosehearts - Beach Wear Vignette

Riddle: Hm…?

Riddle: It's rather refreshing to be woken up by the sound of lapping waves. And the others are…

Everyone: Snooore… Zzzzzz…

Riddle: It looks like they're all still asleep. …Well, since I'm awake, I suppose I'll step outside for some air.

[Uninhabited Island – Beach]

Riddle: The ocean stretches on forever. This doesn't feel real at all, but we really are stranded here…

Riddle: I wonder if Trey, Cater and the others have started to worry? What about my mother…?

Riddle: …

Lilia: Why're you just gazing off towards the ocean like that, is something wrong?

Riddle: Oh, Lilia-senpai. No, not really…

Riddle: My daily routine every morning was to wake up before all my other dormmates and patrol the dormitory, before ironing my shirts.

Riddle: Ever since coming here, I haven't needed to do either. That's why I'm not sure what I should do.

Lilia: It's good that you're so studious. But I think it'd be fine if you relax a little and enjoy the moment, too.

Riddle: Relax, you say… Even if you were to tell me that, it's difficult to bring myself to waste my time doing absolutely nothing productive.

Lilia: Hm, I see. I guess that's very much like you… OH, I GOT IT!

Lilia: I had a great idea. After we all eat breakfast, do a quick patrol and gather more provisions, we should meet back here on this beach!

Riddle: What do you plan on doing?

Lilia: That's for you to see later. Kufufu!

Lilia: ―So, here we have it, folks!

Lilia: THE FIRST EVER SUMMER BEACH FLAG TOURNAMENT BEGINS NOW～～!!

Riddle: Beach Flags… They say this competition originated from the training that surf lifesavers did.

Riddle: The runners would lay face down on the starting line with their backs towards the flags, and upon the given signal, would run towards the flags.

Riddle: If I recall, the rule was that there was one less flag than the number of runners, and the one who could not capture a flag would be eliminated.

Lilia: You know your stuff, have you done it before?

Riddle: It was the theme of a crossword that was in the appendix of one of my study materials. So I do have some knowledge of it, however I've never tried it…

Lilia: This isn't just a game. We are all stranded on a deserted island in the middle of the ocean… There's no telling when we could all fall prey to danger.

Lilia: So basically, we'll use this sport to train ourselves, both mentally and physically. However…

Lilia: Since it wouldn't be fun just running, I've prepared for everyone a rather splendid prize! The winner will get...

Lilia: Floyd's Super Deluxe ☆ Special Fruit Parfait!

Everyone: PARFAIT!?

Ace: I totally didn't wanna run, but… I definitely want to eat that super deluxe parfait!

Azul: Floyd's excellently whipped-up creations may be great additions to the Mostro Lounge menu…

Jack: I don't really care about parfaits, but… There's no way I can let myself lose in a competition.

Floyd: Aha! What, you all think you're gonna get to dig in? Obviously, I'm gonna be the winner!

Riddle: A parfait! …Ahem. If this is to be training, I shall have to focus up properly.

Grim: I wanna eat the parfait already! Lilia! Let's get this show on the road!

Stitch: Yeehaw!

Lilia: Everyone's so fired up! Alright, let's begin! Reaaaaaadddyyy…

[blows whistle]

[Uninhabited Island – Beach]

Everyone: RAAAAH!!

[CRAAAASH!!]

Riddle: A-Ack!? Everyone just dove at the sand face first!? You're all covered in sand. Are you alright, Ace!?

Ace: The sand's real smooth, so I'm totally fine. 'Sides, Beach Flags is just supposed to be for fun, anyway.

Riddle: Eh, you're enjoying being covered in sand!?

Lilia: The lifesaver's mission is, just as they're called, to save lives. In order to do that, they must be prepared to fly towards the target without any hesitation.

Lilia: Therefore, it wouldn't be wrong to say that diving into the sand with great vigor is just another rule of this competition! It can be a necessity in times of emergency!

Riddle: It's a rule!? I-I understand. If it is a rule, then I shall also jump forth.

Ace: …Was there actually a rule like that in Beach Flags?

Lilia: This is more fun… I mean, more exciting. Alright, we're starting the next round!

[blows whistle]

[running, sliding]

Riddle: I captured a flag! Oh… Right, I was supposed to dive into the sand. Hup!

Floyd: Goldfish-chan, that's hilarious that you're just flopping yourself into the sand after you grabbed a flag! You make no sense!

Riddle: W-Well, I can't figure out how to slide.

Floyd: You just gotta go for it, like how you'd jump into the water. Like, this!

Riddle: What are you even saying? When entering a body of water, you need to first shower yourself with the water, let your body get used to the temperature, and step in one foot at a time!

Lilia: Hrrm, he's a hard-headed one. ALRIGHT, NEXT!

[blows whistle]

Riddle: This time, I'll definitely get it right… HIYAH!

Azul: Wha―! Riddle-san just slid into the goal and grabbed the flag with his foot!?

Riddle: I concluded that it is more difficult to dive into the sand face first. There is no rule against capturing the flag with your feet, now is there?

Ace: I mean, it's technically not against the rules, or anything… But shouldn't that actually be harder to do!?

Lilia: Alllright, it's really starting to heat up! Next!

[blows whistle]

Lilia: After so many bouts of fiery competition that could dry up a whole ocean… Finally, we come to the championship round! The two remaining contestants are…

Lilia: Jack, the supernova of the track and field club, who has been capturing the flags with his beautiful running posture and spirited diving!

Lilia: And Riddle, the rose-red ruler of Heartslabyul who has somehow continued to win, despite never successfully diving into the sand!

Lilia: Any comments from the rest of you, who have all been eliminated while trying to sabotage and drag each other down?

Ace: I mean, I don't think even my Housewarden'll be able to beat Jack…

Azul: There is an overwhelming difference in physical stature. And since magic is forbidden, he may not have much of a chance to win.

Grim: Both of you do your best～! And then give me a bite of your parfait when you win～!

1. Do your best, you two! 2. Share your parfait with meee～!

Lilia: Kufufu… No one can predict what may happen. Monsters lurk everywhere on this summery beach.

Floyd: …Hmm～? Those shells by Sea Urchin-chan's feet… Are those…

Lilia: Alright, here we go! Both of you get ready… Seeeet!

[blows whistle]

Jack/Riddle: RAAAAH!!

[rustle, rustle]

Jack: Ack, what's happening!? All the shells around my feet are starting to move… Were these hermit crabs that were hiding under the sand!?

Riddle: HAAAAH!

[CRAAASH!]

Floyd/Lilia: HE FINALLY DOVE IN FACE FIRST―――!

Azul: The sand is flying everywhere… Such momentum! Does he not know what moderation means?

Riddle: …Bleagh! Cough, cough! Th-There's sand all in my mouth… But, I finally was able to dive into the sand!

Riddle: And I captured the flag! Yes! I won! Did you see that, Ace!?

Ace: Yeah, yeah, I saw you, Housewarden. Gooood job!

Ace: Maaan. Look at him covered in sand and jumping for joy… If any of our dormmates saw this, they'd flip their lids.

Jack: That was due to the course being faulty! I demand a remat… Meh, I guess it's ridiculous to get worked up over a silly game like this.

Jack: I guess having the hermit crabs jump in is just another part of it being summer.

Floyd: Mmkay, so to our winning Goldfish-chan, here's Floyd's Super Deluxe Special Fruit Parfait ♪

Lilia: And for the rest of the participants, you'll get a special sundae for your valiant efforts! Let's all go eat!

Everyone: YAAY! HOORAY!

Riddle: This is the first time I've ever been covered in this much sand. But… Heh, this isn't too terrible.

Stitch: Ehe!

Riddle: Ah, hey! Stitch! This is my parfait! If you try to snatch it from me, it will be off with your head!

Stitch: Yahahaha!

Requested by @dida-books.

[venturethighs]

Edging AFAB venture drabble? 🥺👉👈

OR now its their turn to be railed (by strap?) cuz they were being naughty 😌☝️

YEEHAW I gave them bottom growth because I still think about Venture T 'stache a little too much to be considered healthy

♡ "I've had enough of your attitude." You pull them by the hair and back into your shared bedroom.

♡ "WAIT, WHAT? WHAT DID I SAY–?" They land on the mattress, looking back at you with a flushed face.

♡ "Don't play innocent with me, Sloan Cameron." You bluntly state.

♡ "OKAY– BUT–" You cut them off with a harsh kiss.

♡ "You're going to be good for me for once. Do you understand?" You grab them by the shirt and pull them close.

♡ "Okay! Please don't hurt me!" They plea, a grin helplessly drawing itself across their expression.

♡ You viciously rifle through your nightstand until you find what you're looking for.

♡ They cannot bring themself to look at you while you're putting on your shared strap. Mostly out of embarrassment, but also because the heartbeat between their legs was too intense to focus on anything else.

♡ You are anything but gentle as you undo the button to their jeans, shimmying down their pants and boxers and dispose them onto the floor.

♡ A thumb immediately brushes up against their exposed clit– watching as their legs shake at the stimulation as it starts to grow from your touch.

♡ "AH– okay– lighten up a little!" They cry out between excited whimpers. "Or I'm gonNA–" You immediately pull away and a trail of slick is left behind.

♡ "No! You're not allowed to come until I say you're allowed to. Is that understood?" You cross your arms.

♡ Their grin vanishes. "Okay–"

♡ "Don't give me that. Give me an actual answer." You huff.

♡ "Yes! I understand!" Good GOD. The fear was REAL.

♡ You place down your thumb against their clit where it once was, circling it slowly before your index finger trails down and inserts itself inside them.

♡ It earns you the most satisfied sounding moan, letting your finger linger inside a little longer to tap against the sweet spot inside of them.

♡ Your voice sweetens. "Do you like that? Does it feel good?" You tease.

♡ "Yes—!" They choke, letting their hips grind against your fingers as you slip another one inside. "AH—!"

♡ "I know you're nice and sensitive. So..." You instantly pull out and leave them empty. "Too bad."

♡ They let out a long, drawn out whimper. "No– please– I'll be good, I promise!" They whine.

♡ "I wish I could believe you, but you'll never behave until that ego is in pieces." Your index finger brushes up against their clit again.

♡ They squeeze their eyes shut and throw their head back as more desperate noises reverberate in the back of their throat.

♡ You grab your silicone lube and pour it onto the cold surface of your strap, coating it completely even though it was almost unnecessary.

♡ You take the tip of it and rub their slit, making extra sure to go slow over their growth, until it realigns at their entrance and you push yourself inside. Just barely.

♡ Then, you pull out again.

♡ They whine and squirm underneath you, and you can't get enough of it.

♡ "Do you want it?" You ask, pressing against their sopping wet entrance again.

♡ "P-please!" They beg between heavy breaths.

♡ "Hm? Give me an actual answer." You push the tip in and exit multiple times, watching them become undone with every tease.

♡ "YES! I WANT IT! GIVE IT TO ME!" They yell.

♡ "That's better." You fully insert yourself before leaning down to kiss them.

♡ "Wrap your legs around me. Now." You order them, and they do exactly as you command.

♡ "Good. You'll need all the support you can get." You give them a sweet kiss to the cheek before pulling back up, watching as fear and arousal lights up their eyes.

♡ "Remember– you have to tell me– otherwise you'll be in big trouble. Alright?" You remind them.

♡ "And if I don't–?" They smirk.

♡ "Chasity belt for a week. And I'm telling everyone." You smirk back.

♡ "OKAY– OKAY– I'LL TELL YOU WHEN I'M CLOSE–" They look at you like you just murdered their entire family.

♡ "Good pet! Let's get started then, shall we?"

[we-are-inevitable]

Give me something from the restaurant au, any scene you really want to write <33

this is a little cheating because i’ve had this written for a while, but: here’s a little snip!

———

“Alright, great! So, that’s a number four, medium well, no mayo. For your side, do you want fries or a side salad, Sir?”

“What kind of fuckin’ question is that? It’s a burger. What kind of hippy-ass place serves a side salad with a burger?”

David Jacobs loves his job.

He does. This job, waiting tables at an expensive burger joint in the heart of Manhattan, is admittedly one of the better ones he’s had. Sure, he gets his fair share of shitty customers- like this rough and tumble wannabe cowboy, who no doubt got roped into his wife’s vacation to the Big Apple- but you get shitty customers everywhere. At every single restaurant he’s worked at, of which there are many, he’s had bad tables. Eight tops that only give him a meesely five dollars for a tip, macho guys who like pointing out that David’s ears are pierced and therefore he must be one of those queers, moms that bitch about how long food takes to get to the table even though he’s just sent the order in five minutes ago… Shitty customers are everywhere.

And David loves his job.

So, he nods, and smiles, and lets out his practiced-to-perfection laugh. “I know, right?” He says, looking the man in the eye. “Side salads at a burger restaurant? It doesn’t make any sense, but it’s policy to ask anyway. I’ll get that order in for you guys here in just a second, and it’ll be out shortly.”

The man with the bushy mustache and beer gut seems satisfied now that David has proven he’s not a hippy-ass who likes side salads, and he gives him a grunt of acknowledgement. David takes the menus, smiles at the table, and walks straight to the iPad in the corner next to the bar to send the order to the kitchen.

He’s just about to press the send button when he hears a voice to his side, high pitched and squeaky, say, “What kind of hippy-ass, liberal-ass, blue state, gay-ass restaurant serves a side salad with a burger? Do I look like one of them queers? Yeehaw, America, I wanna fuck my gun.”

David rolls his eyes as a laugh rips from his chest. He glances to the side and sees Albert there behind the bar, slinging a towel over his shoulder; Al has this cocky little smirk on his face, matching the awful southern accent he had just tried to do. So far, Albert is the first friend David has made here— he just started at this restaurant about two weeks ago, and Al latched onto him by his second day— and David is always thankful that the hostesses put him in the section closest to the bar. Albert makes the lunch rush bearable.

It takes David a second to stop giggling, but as his laughter dies down, he reaches over the bar and slaps Albert’s shoulder. “Fucking hell, I’m glad I wasn’t the only one who had to hear that. If I survive this table without shooting myself, you owe me a beer.”

“What’s his problem, anyway?” Albert asks, leaning with his palms against the cool mahogany of the bar. “Stick up his ass?”

“Wife dragged him to New York,” David responds, placing the menus from the table underneath the iPad stand, and he makes a note to let Smalls and Spot know that the menus in the back are ready to be brought up to the hostess stand. “The entire time I’m trying to take his fucking order, he’s all like, ugh, I hate this, these burgers better not be for pansies, this better be good like Texas burgers, and I’m just waiting there, like, okay, just give me your goddamn order already. I wanted to die, Albert.”

Albert snickers, then glances to the side and straightens up. “Well, don’t go dyin’ yet, Jacobs. You just got here, and I like you, so if you leave, I’ll have to kill you.” He grins again, then nods his head to the left. “Your four top on twelve looks like they’re ready for the check.”

David nods and taps the bar twice. “Thank fuck,” He says under his breath, and shoots Albert a tight, closed mouth grin. “I’ll be back to ruin your shift later.”

“Can’t wait.”

From then on, the rush takes over. Closing checks, pre-bussing tables, running food— it’s a madhouse in the restaurant for about two hours. David knew it would be. Pulitzer’s is conveniently located just a few blocks from Times Square, so the weekend rush is always awfully full of tourists, and it may suck in the moment, but David really likes it. It’s kind of fun, actually; in the few minutes of downtime he has on this job, he makes conversations with his tables, hears their stories. He gets to know them, even if he’s just a fleeting little nobody in the grand scheme of their trips.

At the steakhouse he used to serve in, he got to be part of a few proposals, which were always stressful but incredibly rewarding at the same time. Unlike a lot of his coworkers, he actually loves having little kids sat in his section, and as a professional big brother he enjoys joking around and listening to them babble on about whatever their mind deems important at that age. He talks to tourists about their travels, gives recommendations for hidden gems around the city, and makes them feel at home for the thirty to forty-five minutes he’s taking care of them for. It’s the least he can do, honestly.

And, well. The tips are always better when you add a personal touch.

That’s what this is about, right? The tips. The money. Working for pennies is bad enough, but working for tips is a game. You have to choose the right action, say the right words. Morph yourself into someone you’re not. Pretend you don’t like side salads and form an alliance with the mustachioed cowboy from Texas. Play up how many times you go to synagogue to please the Jewish grandma who comes in with the grandkids. Talk politics with republicans and hide the rainbow pin on your shirt collar.

David has experience at this. It doesn’t make him any less bitter.

[blackbirdi]

Okay, okay, okay, SO

I work at a daycare (which I love because all the kids are so sweet) and I hear some wack stuff because little people (I work with kids from the age of 18 months to 9-ish years old) have zero fucking filter, which turns out to be pretty funny stuff.

Anywhere, here's a collection of things I have heard/have said to the little people.

-----------

*A group of kids pretending to be different things for a game they're playing*

6-year-old: I want to be something made up. Like a monster truck.

-----------

The kids call me "Miss (my name)" by the way. I also live in the country (yeehaw), so practically everyone in my town works with cattle or has crops.

3 1/2-year-old being dropped off for the day: Look, Miss (my name), I'm wearing my work boots.

Me: You are! They're pretty dirty, were you working with the cows yesterday?

3 1/2-year-old: Yeah ... they're covered in cow shit.

Me:

His dad: Hey, we don't say that.

Me:

-----------

*Playing in the sand box with a group of kids*

3 1/2-year-old (same one as the last one), out of nowhere: I hate kids.

He was the youngest one in the sandbox...

-----------

*Peacefully building a toy robot with blocks with a 5-year-old*

*Her little brother (1 1/2) comes over and gestures for the robot*

Me, hands it to him: You wanna play with the robot, buddy?

Me, a moment later: Why are you taking its arms off!?

-----------

Me, comes in for my afternoon shift in sweats: Hey, everyone! How was your day?

3 1/2-year-old (same one as before): Miss, (my name), why are you wearing pajamas?

Me: They're pants. They just look like pajamas, but they're not.

3 1/2-year-old: No. Those are pajamas.

Me:

-----------

Me, working the morning shift in fuzzy pants (THEY ARE NOT PAJAMAS): Morning, (3 1/2-year-old from before), morning (his mom), how're you guys this morning?

His mom: Good. How're you?

Me: I'm doin' alright.

3 1/2-year-old: Miss (my name), you have fuzzy pants.

Me: Yes, I do! They're really comfortable.

3 1/2-year-old, comes up to me and hugs my leg, petting my pants like a you would a dog: They're soft.

*Me and his mom share looks of confusion at his actions.*

-----------

Me, walking in for my afternoon shift: Hey, everybody!

My director to the 1 1/2-year-old (mentioned previously): We're going outside, but you have to let me change your diaper first.

1 1/2-year-old, walks over to me with a pout on his face:

My director, tired from a long day of being the only one on the floor: Do you want Miss (my name) to do it?

1 1/2-year-old, lifts her arms up to me for uppies:

Me, picks him up:

My director, defeated sigh: Sorry, Miss (my name), but he's been grumpy with me since I woke him up and he won't let me come near him at all.

Me, after being voluntold to change a (possibly) dirty diaper: It's chill. As long as it gets done, right?

I love my director sm guys. She's the best boss.

-----------

*Peacefully hanging out with a couple of school kids (5 {mentioned previously} and 8)*

*1 1/2-year-old comes up*

Me, thinks nothing of it:

Me, not even a moment later: DO NOT PUSH YOUR SISTER! DON'T KICK HER EITHER!

-----------

Me, after a long day: Don't stick that up your nose, that's not where it goes.

-----------

1 1/2-year-old (mentioned previously), pulls his sister's hair:

He literally took a chunk y'all, like it would've hurt.

5-year-old (mentioned previously), starts crying:

Me: Why would you do that!?

I live in a really small town, so a lot of kids came up multiple times because they're at the daycare regularly. Also, these aren't the only things I've heard, so let me know if you guys want to hear more (especially if it's from the 3 1/2-year-old because he's ridiculous).

[nowoyas]

Edible Arrangements 39

First - Prev - Next - M.list - Read on Ao3

A/N: howdy folks and strokes it took literally all my strength not to post this chapter early yeehaw

if you're interested in a spicy little oneshot, please direct your attention over to Legs Spreadable Arrangements for all your smutty spinoff chapter needs!

please note that this chapter is more than twice the length of recent chapters before settling in to read. please enjoy with responsibility to your sleep schedule! <3

Summary: You're making amazing strides. So is the hunt.

Warnings: oh man haha let's think uhh some talk of death, food mentions including some gross shit, mind fuckery things, implied parental abuse

Word count: 5000+

The students in the day ahead of him are fresh-faced, not yet tainted by the drag of the semester ahead of them. [name] sits at the farthest seat in the back of the room, Ochako sitting with two seats of space between them. Ochako is flashing sweet, pleasant smiles at the other students as they enter. Like this, Izuku almost forgets that Ochako is their aide, here to get them through this class. He wishes he had that privilege. Every time he thinks he can handle this, surreptitiously glancing up from papers to scan the room, he sees their face and feels his heart shatter into powder.

Already his regrets have dragged on for a month. They were, by everyone's judgment, prepared for this, and yet, he doesn't feel like it now. He's not prepared for it, either.

He inhales. Exhales. Checks his watch. Twenty-five students in the course, twenty-one bodies in the room, one of them extra seeing as Ochako isn't technically on the roster. He’d had to remember to add her to the list so no one notices when he calls roll that she's not on it.

Class start time in two minutes. Five no-shows, but they still have time.

He hates this. He hates teaching in-person classes. He hates the moments before the class starts, casing the students out for who he can rely on, who may need to rely on him. Connections to make, or, more likely, to inevitably fall apart as his words tumble, rather than slip, from his mouth.

Class start time in one minute. Two stragglers, running into the room last-minute and skidding into seats at the back, filling the spots between Ochako and [name].

Oh. That won't be good.

They cast a panicked glance Ochako's way, but neither of the two appear to say anything.

Why did they sit apart to begin with? Is [name] less comfortable with being around people now? Is that enough to leave the risk that two stragglers—that he's now growing increasingly angry with—would fill the seats between them?

Class start time is now.

He stands up, clears his throat. Waits for the few surprised looks that are inevitable when he says he's Dr. Midoriya, the professor, and not a TA or a student making a power play.

He's somewhere over fifty years old, thank you very much. How old? Hell if he knows.

So he squares his shoulders, reaches for his list.

"A-alright, I think that's everyone who's showing up, so without waiting any further, hello everyone! I-I'm Dr. Midoriya, I took over this course from Dr. Hakamada in light of his... untimely circumstances." His eyes come to rest on [name], staring blank at their desk. He hesitates. "I know things aren't—things aren't what everyone expected right now, but I expect that all of you will be able to make it through this course if you're willing to keep working and come to me if you have any issues! Before we get into the syllabus for this course, I'm going to give us all a chance to, uh, to break the ice."

Some attentive stares. Some blank. The expected anguished looks from students who don't want to speak up for any reason, let alone to introduce themselves.

"Now, I know some of us are more socially-inclined than others, so I'll let all of you take this at your own pace. Feel free to decide the order you go in, but let's all take a moment to introduce ourselves. How about... name, major, year, and a fun fact about you? I-I'll start!"

Dammit. Stop stuttering.

"My name is Dr. Izuku Midoriya, I teach in several different areas, but specialize in Quirk Theory. A fun fact about me is that, judging by the way most of you assumed I was a TA or another student, I actually have the worst babyface on the planet!"

A few students let out polite laughs. He gives them nods of appreciation in reply.

"Wait, so how old are you?" a girl in the front row asks. She has her chin resting in her hand. "No offense, Professor, but you look younger than nearly everyone in this room."

He laughs at that. It's becoming easier, so long as he doesn't look at [name] in the back. So long as he doesn't acknowledge the heartbreak in the room. "I stopped counting after I hit my fifties."

"Oh, there is no way you're actually in your fifties."

He smiles, nods to her. "Alright then, it sounds like you're volunteering to go next!"

She rolls her eyes with a smile. "I guess I am." She rattles off her introduction—well-practiced, as many are, after several years of several classes all requiring her to rattle off the very same information. Quick, dirty, easy.

He checks off her name and scans the room for the next volunteer.

And his eyes land on [name].

Staring right at him.

With that very same look that tells him they're confused and definitely caught information with their quirk that he didn't think about communicating to them.

He chooses the next lazily raised hand and tries to brush it off as they tap something on their phone—not too discreet, [name], but he'll let it slide—and Ochako reaches for hers moments later.

Oh, to know what information they were exchanging now.

"Good to have you!" he says and checks off the next name to introduce themselves, searches for his next victim. "Next, how about..."

He pauses, tries not to freeze.

"You, in the back."

"[full name]. I'm told I'm in my senior year, and I'm a quirk theory major." A pause. "I like to read, and I don't like to talk."

He laughs softly, more dumbfounded than anything. "Same here. You'll be happy to know that I offer options to turn in papers instead of present in front of the class for every relevant assignment, and that goes for all of you. Now, who's next?"

He eases into it. Tries not to bubble over with relief and maybe excitement at seeing [name] make such a stride in his class. Gets through the icebreakers, goes over the syllabus in detail. He even manages to completely stop stuttering by the end. It's never been about the actually teaching the class, anyway, just the anticipation of where it could go wrong in the moments leading up. And nothing goes wrong!

At least, not until the end of class. He watches his students filter out, watches [name] and Ochako wait. Ochako appears to be chatting with them, ostensibly to make it less obvious that they're waiting to talk to him. He goes through the motions, answers the questions of a stray student, and watches as the pair approach him from the back of the room.

"[name], you did great!" he gushes when he's sure the others have left the room. "I'm glad to see you making an effort to speak up!"

They give a little half-shrug, favoring their unstabbed arm. "I had to ask Ochako what year I was in. I didn't remember."

"Well, that's understandable. I forget my own age, after all!"

Ochako pulls a tight smile. He has the sense that she does a lot of customer-service smiling around him. "[name] had something to ask you?"

They blink in confusion, tilting their head at Ochako. "I thought you did?"

"No, remember? You texted and asked what year you were in, then asked if we could stop after class to ask Dr. Midoriya a question."

She holds up her phone, shows [name] the texts.

"Oh," they say after a moment. "I don't remember, so it probably wasn't important. Sorry."

Oh. He knows what that’s about, doesn’t he?

The look on their face as he joked about his age. The way they can’t process it now.

Another wrench of guilt. He smiles anyway. “Well, if you do remember, you know how to find me! Good work today, both of you.”

A flash of pink at the door. Mina is there, arms crossed, glaring him down while waiting for her friend. When Ochako and [name] leave, Mina lingers a moment longer, just glaring.

He shrugs it off and packs up his things. Class is over. He can handle the rest. Not without issue, of course. The issue was always him.

Besides, soon enough, this will be over. He’s gotten his affairs in order. [name] may never understand it, but they’ll understand the money, the house. They’ll understand Sbeve. If they’re smart—and he knows they are—they can live the rest of their normal life on his dime and never know why. He doesn’t need forgiveness. It won’t do him any good where he’s going.

~

[name] sits on the edge of the couch, listless as the others chat over pizza. In total, there’s five people in the living room, aside from [name]. Whatever they’re talking about, [name] hasn’t been listening, and they’re still not listening when a plate with a slice of pizza is balanced atop their knee.

They eat, mindless.

“[name], honey, are you listening?” Mina elbows their side gently. “Do you remember Tenya? We’re really worried about him right now.”

A flash of recognition. It fades away, slips away from their mind in real time.

“Is Tenya important?”

They don’t miss the looks of pity they receive, though they don’t understand why they receive them. As their attention falls back away, the others turn on to other topics that don’t matter.

None of it does, really.

~

“Thanks for coming on such short notice.”

“You’re sure of it?” Tenya spurns his pleasantries with little more than a look.

He sits across from Izuku, looking entirely out of place sitting peacefully in Izuku’s admittedly drafty living room. He really should get that door fixed before [name] inherits it.

“Yes. The Death Adder has been staying in the area. It has to be because we’re here, though I’m not sure he knows we’re working together or even know each other.”

“After he attacked [name], I admit that he knows you’re here. You were probably his target that night.”

“I know. But, look. I was reading the paper—“

“Really?” He raises an eyebrow. “I didn’t think anyone still got paper copies in this day and age.”

“I’m fifty years old, so sue me. Anyways!” He lays out the classifieds in front of Tenya, tapping a circled paragraph.

I know where you are, my children. I’d like to see you again someday. DA.

“DA for Death Adder. We’d be his children, in a sick way that makes me even more geared up to do this. But that alone isn’t why I asked you to come here.” He spreads out another paper, this one more recently dated, and taps the circled section on this sheet. “I replied.”

DA - You made me into myself, so many years ago. I’d like to return the favor. If you truly want to see me, you know where to find me. If we meet again, I’ll happily pass on the message you taught me. IM

“That was two days ago. Now, I’ve been getting the paper daily. There was nothing yesterday, but in today’s paper, we have this.”

IM - You will see me again, a week from today. DA.

Tenya looks up from the paper with hardened eyes. “So we have a week.”

“Get your affairs in order, just in case. I’ve already established everything to pass on to [name] once I’m gone. I suggest you figure out where all you have will go.”

Tenya nods. “Do you still have our weapon?”

“[name] secured a bottle of holy water for me, before all this happened. We’ll have to be careful with it, obviously.”

“A week to get my affairs in order and take down a serial killer.”

“No going back?”

“No going back.”

~

When they open their eyes, it is morning. Normal morning, not some obscenely late-in-the-day morning like the ones they’ve been waking up in. The clock reads 9:09 AM, and because it is a weekend, their alarm has not gone off. They sit up in a haze.

This is their bedroom, but this is not the apartment.

No, wherever they are, it is so familiar and so unfamiliar but it is theirs.

Their phone buzzes. It is atop their eight-drawer, fine-wooded dresser. The piece of furniture is more expensive than anything in the apartment. The sight of the mirror attached to it fills them with a strange dread, but they must answer the phone. It’s important. It isn’t important. It’s so, so unimportant. It is Nothing.

They slide out of bed.

What doesn’t matter is how large the bed is. What doesn’t matter is how empty it felt to sit alone on its edge. What doesn’t matter is that it is not the bed they fell asleep in. What doesn’t matter is the depression beside them, where someone laid not long ago.

Who decides what is important and what is not, except for them? Who decides for them?

Bare feet sink into a plush rug. The sensation is familiar, soothing. Lazy mornings before the world stopped making sense and began making change.

Bare feet pad across the room, to the dresser. The phone has stopped buzzing, but they still know they must reach it.

Was the mirror covered before? They can’t remember, but the sight soothes them. They can’t see themselves. Not now.

Beside the phone is an arrangement of fruit skewers in a vase. The card attached to the vase with a simple green ribbon is blank. Nothing is written there. The fruit is rotten, and its heady, alcoholic scent draws them in even as the scent warns of danger and disgust forgotten. Somewhere behind them.

Behind them.

behind you

They turn. Nothing is behind them. There is Nothing in the bed.

Nothing behind them. What is behind them in life? There cannot ever be nothing, not really, but the past must not have been important, if they lose hold on it so easily.

The past, too, must be Nothing behind them.

The buzzing of their phone, once again, but once they turn, it falls away to Nothing.

There is Nothing covering the mirror now, the sheet Nowhere to be seen.

There is a skewer of rotten fruit held to their lips. When did they pick one up?

Their phone is at their ear. They don’t remember answering it.

“Hey. What’s wrong?” They do not know this voice.

“What do you mean? Nothing’s wrong.”

“Are you sure? You’re crying.” They know this voice.

What? No. They can’t be. Why would they be crying?

They put down the phone. The fruit in their mouth squelches as they bite into it, the flesh giving beneath their teeth with the faintest pop. Beyond the skin it is liquid. The flavor is sour and burns their nose as they chew, although there’s no need to do so. Their teeth are sharp, their jaw strong, and the flesh sludge. It leaves them drunk as it melds past their teeth. Although their body protests, they swallow it without a thought and take another bite. It leaves a metallic-tasting burn in its wake.

They look in the mirror, now that they know they can. They shouldn’t be crying. Why would they be crying?

It is now that they realize what is wrong.

The thing about Nothing is that it matters. It matters so, so much. When there is Nothing where there should not be, there is a problem.

They look in the mirror to inspect their tears, and Nothing is there.

~

When they open their eyes, it is morning. Normal morning, not some obscenely late-in-the-day morning like the ones they’ve been waking up in. The clock reads 10:08 AM, and because it is a weekend, their alarm has not gone off. They sit up in a haze.

This is their bedroom. This is the apartment.

This is familiar, and it is theirs.

The knowledge feels good, that there is something that is theirs and cannot be taken from them for at least the year. They feel good, that they have slept well and made it through a week of classes and classwork and physical therapy and worked hard at getting better. Their memories aren’t returning, but their soul is, and that, in itself, feels good. They don’t remember when last they were truly in their body.

They dreamed, they’re pretty sure. Of what, they’re not sure, but phantom aches linger about their throat in pinpricks and bruises, and when they check their reflection in their bathroom, they find no source.

They think back to last week. They had been rude, hadn’t they? They’d completely ignored those questions about Tenya. Their friends were worried, they think. Their friends have been so good to them, and they were rude. They need to do better.

They pad out of the room in their pajamas, not bothering to change, and find Mina and Tsuyu commiserating over breakfast, scrolling their phones in silence.

“Mina? Tsuyu?”

The girls look up in tandem. “[name]. Sleep okay?”

“I’m sorry about last week. You guys were talking about Tenya. You were worried. What’s wrong with Tenya? Can I help?”

“It’s… a lot.” The girls share a look before Mina continues. “We can get into it, but it’ll take a lot out of you, and we’ll need to invite the others back over. The guys, at least. Itsuka isn’t really involved.”

“I feel good today. I think there’s a lot of me to take.”

“If you’re sure, there’s no backing out, okay?”

“O…kay?”

Tsuyu nods, adjusting her posture to focus on the phone in her hand. “I’ll call the boys.”

~

Their friends sit around them in a rough imitation of a circle. They are sat in the center, turning their head nervously as the others settle in.

“Tenya can’t come,” Mina sighs, pocketing her phone, “he says he has plans, but at least you guys are here. Neito, did you bring the stuff?”

“Of course I did. We’re really doing this?”

“Look at them. Their eyes are brighter than I’ve seen them in months. I think we can get them.”

“So how are we doing this?”

“We rely on their quirk,” Neito declares. He’s got a box with him. He reaches in, pulls out an old journal that has something scratching on [name]’s memory. “[name]. This belonged to you. Do you remember it?”

They shake their head. “That isn’t mine.”

“Look at it. Tenya was holding onto it for you for all this time. Will you read it?”

“I don’t—I thought this was about Tenya.”

“It is about Tenya,” he says simply, and it isn’t a lie.

They take the journal. They open it to the first page.

In younger, scratchier handwriting than theirs today, the first page details their name, a phone number that was once theirs, and an address they almost remember writing. They trace a fingertip over the letters. They didn’t write them, but it is undeniably their handwriting, so long ago now.

“This isn’t mine.”

“It is.”

“It’s not!”

“[name], listen to me. You used to be in love with Tenya. The two of you dated for years. You lived with him after cutting ties with your parents.”

“No,” you reply firmly. “That didn’t happen. I don’t remember it.”

“You don’t remember anything.”

“You’re just—you’re just saying things, but that didn’t happen. I don’t know Tenya that well.”

“You did. You used to be inseparable. He still hasn’t gotten over what happened to you and your memories.”

“You’re lying.”

“Look at any of us and tell us whether we’re lying.”

You look. You slip away into them again. “Then you’re wrong.”

Tsuyu slides several photos toward them. [name] picks them up blankly.

They were younger, when these photos were taken. They see themselves, leaned against Tenya’s chest, and they don’t remember ever seeing Tenya, but they know it is him, looking at them with soft eyes.

It is you and him.

Your head hurts.

“Can… can we stop this? I don’t wanna help anymore. This doesn’t—this isn’t important.”

“I’m sorry,” Hitoshi says. “We have to keep going.”

“It’s not just that you used to date,” Neito insists. He has produced a folder that they do not recognize, and their head aches sharply. “We want to give you this to read. A few years back, you were attacked just like you were all those weeks ago. Do you remember? Tenya lost his brother, and you changed. Do you recall what happened?”

They don’t open the folder. “Nothing happened. Nothing.”

“You know that isn’t true.”

“If it isn’t, then—“

“It isn’t. Look at them. It’s notes from your therapy sessions with Dr. Fuyumi. Why would you lie to her in therapy, if all of that was untrue?”

They lift their hand, but can’t open the folder. They’re frozen, stuck in the headlights.

“No.”

“No?”

“No!”

The folder is flung, papers fluttering around the room as they bolt for their bedroom. Hitoshi is up and after them, grabbing at them a bit too harshly. “[name]! Didn’t you want to help Tenya?”

“Not anymore!” They bite back. In the next moment, they slip away and stop struggling in his hold.

“Sit back down in the middle of the circle,” he orders, and they obey.

The papers are collected and placed in their lap, roughly back in their same order.

“Speak if you want to. Read the papers you’re holding.”

They tilt their neck downward, eyes roaming over the pages. “These are real?”

“They’re real. We got them from Dr. Fuyumi herself.”

The words ring true. Even without being able to turn to see them, no glow edges at your vision. No evidence of lies.

Your head hurts. Worse and worse it hurts.

The more evidence they pile on, the worse it feels. Unable to look away or run, they whimper out protests. Old texts talking about Tenya. Social media posts long since forgotten, tagging Tenya or talking about a boyfriend or their parents. Another old photo. [name] with a slice of cake, sat next to Tenya.

They—you—keep returning to the notes. “How do you know these notes are real?”

“We stole them from Dr. Fuyumi’s office.”

He isn’t lying.

The words on the page are the truth.

You were attacked by whoever killed Tenya’s brother. Tenya had been acting distant in a way that didn’t seem like grief. You wanted to understand it better and help your boyfriend through a difficult time.

Your boyfriend.

Ex? Boyfriend?

“Hitoshi,” you say, voice hoarse. “Let me go.”

“Are you going to run?”

“No. Let me go.”

He lets you go.

You hunch over, letting the folder and the photos slide off your lap as something strikes. A match against damp sandpaper.

What is he now? Who are you now?

When it comes together at last, the pieces snap into place. You would swear that there was an audible click, or perhaps a cracking like a bone, snapped from crashing your bike into a tree while chasing your dear neighborhood friend.

something is creaking something is bending something is straining under the weight and you cannot understand you will not understand you are not to understand you are to look away you are to forget but you cannot

forget

it is Nothing but the thing about nothing is that Nothing Matters and it is nothing and so it matters

what are you looking away from why are you looking away look at it look at him look at your past look at it look at it LOOK AT IT

~

…are you looking?

~

…are you looking.

~

…do you see it?

they come back to you in fragments. your own wrist, blurry. faint scars there. a soft shade against your skin. a pattern of bite marks.

do you remember who put those there?

it was tenya, wasn’t it? you asked him to. he only fed from you once. something went wrong.

something?

what went wrong?

what’s wrong?

nothing’s wrong.

You’re crying.

The fragments slip from your grasp as you come back into the moment. Mina is holding you as you thrash, holding you as you sob. Your vision is white, and you are screaming, and it is normal, and you are staring at a photo on the floor of you with Tenya and remembering the day it was taken.

He had planned a surprise party for you. It was your first birthday away from your parents. He’d declared it a necessity for a proper birthday party to be held, and so it was, with cake at his parents’ dining room table and all kinds of gifts and an innocuous sheet of paper declaring you officially emancipated from your parents.

The headache is blinding, less so as you latch onto the memory and find more attached.

The fragments come up like a system of roots and fungus, a mycelial network of all the things you’d forgotten you’d forgotten.

Tenya, chasing off bullies for you with nothing but a glare and his size, being an older kid. Tenya, never raising a hand and yet protecting you all the same. Tenya on one side of you, Tensei on the other, explaining in dire words the situation you were in and couldn’t you stay for a while? Tenya’s mother, smiling and nodding and saying she’d speak to their father but they have an extra guest bedroom in the meantime if you’d like to spend the night.

“How long?” You whisper, and it is you, but it is not. All of the things you remember as though they were yesterday, and yet, you cannot find Yesterday among your memories. There is a gap, or more like a ravine, stretching between you. When was Yesterday? Where are You?

“Years.”

“But that isn’t everything, is it? There’s more. More than just that my… boyfriend? Ex? Best friend? Fuck, I don’t know, that he’s a vampire? That vampires exist? The lifetime of tragedy I couldn’t save him from?”

“No. There’s more. It’ll take more pain, but we’ll be there for you every step of the way.”

There isn’t a moment’s hesitation, only a question. “Tenya was never coming for this, was he?”

“No. He doesn’t know we’re doing this, and he’s off doing god knows what.”

“…I don’t know if I want to know what it is I forgot.”

“You do.” Tsuyu’s voice is firm. “You just can’t know you want it.”

“Don’t you want to know why you’ve been so despondent? Don’t you want to remember what you’ve done? The months leading up to your stab wound? Me and Hitoshi?” Neito’s voice is low.

You don’t want to know. You don’t want to know.

You don’t—

“Unlock your phone.”

You listen, though you don’t have to, and wait for further instruction.

“Have you been without your phone at all since you woke up without your memories?”

You shake your head.

“Look back at your old texts. What do you notice?”

You look. There are ones where your eyes glaze over, where you just can’t focus on the words or the photos. They must be talking about other texts, anyways—

“Look at the ones you don’t want to look at. There’s someone you’ve forgotten. Not me or Neito, but someone else. There, stop scrolling.”

You stop on a photo of you. It’s a selfie. Someone is beside you—a man with a cute face and fluffy green hair and freckles. “I know him,” you mumble. There is a flicker of hope as they gather around you. “He’s my professor.”

The hope flickers but does not extinguish.

“He’s more than that. Don’t look away. When did you meet him?”

“Dr. Midoriya and I met a month or two ago, I think. Ochako took me to meet him so I would be able to get ready for the summer semester.”

“No,” Hitoshi starts to say, but Mina cuts him off.

“What do you remember about that meeting?”

“Um… I don’t know. Dr. Midoriya was lying about it being nice to meet me?”

“Why would he lie about that?”

“Because I’m a pain in the ass with a lot of accommodations…?”

Mina coos with pity, then shakes her head. “Remember, there are usually other explanations that don’t involve self-deprecation. Why else might he lie about it being nice to meet you?”

You pause for a long time, staring at the photo even as your headache rears its hideous head once again. “It wasn’t nice.”

“Or…?”

“He wasn’t meeting me?”

“There you go. That wasn’t your first meeting. Look at the date on that photo.”

October 31st, 2050. During the Yesterday you’re missing.

You put down the phone. You look away, rubbing your eyes. Your head is split.

“Come on, [name], don’t look away now. Just a little further and you’ll remember. If you can’t look at the photo, look at me. All you have to do is verify whether or not I’m telling you the truth.”

A whimper. You open one eye to look at Tsuyu as she speaks. “You were in love with Izuku. You lived with him for months. You kissed him on New Year’s and you had a cat together named Sbeve.”

“I’ve met Sbeve,” you manage. “He was sweet. I guessed his name right.”

“You named him. When you stopped living with Izuku, you had been sleeping with him for months.”

They’re telling the truth. Why are they telling the truth? Would it kill them to lie to you? Would it kill them? Won’t this kill them?

the bending the creaking the snapping of the pressure in your head but it isn’t enough it won’t be enough

“Do me a favor and look at this.”

you are looking.

there is a phone in front of you. the camera is on. the screen shows not your face. the screen shows your neck. someone guides your hand to touch the throat. you watch the hand move, reflected in the camera image on the screen. something changes. you must not understand. you are beginning to understand. you cannot look away. something changes.

your neck is littered in bite marks

and

you

snap.

Tags: @tooloudarts​ @xxangelpridexx​ @lirinstaalem @izoodles​​ @denise-the-death-goddess @themerpenguin​ @sincerelybubbles​ @fudobaby​ @imabootywarrior​ @chickynn​ @fuc-kingmonkey​​ @the-secret-thief​​ @kc-korra​ @kiliakit​ @hay-leeeah​ @meowkid1000​ @mha-baku-todo-deku-kiri​ @jojo-buttercup​ @starfishlovingbnha​​ @wwwwyamd​ @omiwashere​ @emilytheeggy​ @subwayslander​ @thelittle-witch​ @sparkexplosive​ @shoutaaizawas​ @vanilladyfics​ @stargazerunlimited​ @chaoticevilbakugo​ @deeplightgarden @stxrrielle @idonthaveanameideayet @snowymaltese @bnha-babygirl @graywrites20 @dusstory @sky-angel101

If your name is on the list but not underlined, I was unable to tag you! If your name is on the list and in bold, this is my second attempt to tag you. You will be removed from the taglist after a third attempt. Please ensure that your blog is set to appear in search results to be able to be tagged on the taglist! If you would like to be added or removed from the taglist, please fill out this form! No hard feelings if you want yourself removed for any reason! <3

[iceeericeee]

September

Here is my contribution to NATM day <3

Notes: This is basically how the Shroomies get together (romantically). Also, I'm aro, so excuse me if none of this makes sense, but romance is not my first language :')

Drew POV:

‘Ugghhh, my head hurts. I’m never sleeping outside without a tent again.’ I think to myself. ‘Maybe I can get back home and take a nap.’

“Where d’yah reckon she came from?”

‘What the fuck?’

“I dunno, new addition, maybe?”

‘Since when did we have yeehaws in Washington? And what’s this dude going on about?’

“Then shouldn’t she be in a position? Why’s she lying down?”

‘In position? What am I, an actor? Oh god, are they using my campsite for a film?’

“Beats me.”

I shifted a bit, pressing my hands against my temple. I slowly sat up, opening my eyes. I saw three people in a loose semicircle in front of me, dressed up like cowboys. When they saw me move, they quickly shuffled away, giving me space.

“Someone get Jed, he’s better at explainin’ this to newbies,” the guy on the left ran off, leaving a small trail of dust behind him.

‘Hold up. Dust??’

“You need some help gettin up there, sunshine?” One of them offered.

“Uh, yeah, no thanks. I’m fine.” As he raised his hands in defense, I quickly got up to look around.

“No. Fucking. Way.”

I was at a railroad, and right in front of me was a short expanse of sand and dirt, which suddenly stopped after a few yards, and opened to an enormous hallway, with a giant bench in the middle. I’d recognize this place anywhere.

“How- how in the hell-” Oh wait. ‘Fuckin Annabel. I know she did this, and when I see him, I’m gonna wring his damn neck.’ Then I looked down to see what I was wearing.

“Oh, hell no.”

I’m wearing one of those dresses you only see in those old western movies. It’s a flattering shade of pine green, with small white flowers decorating the hem. It’s pretty, but it’s definitely not me. I can almost hear Annabel laughing.

‘Speaking of Annabel, why did they think it was a good idea to put me here? There’s really no point,’ I think to myself. ‘Unless- no, they wouldn’t. They’re not-’ But the more I thought about it, the more it made sense. But then, where’s Charlie? If they’re trying to get us together, then wouldn’t she be here too?

‘Wait. Didn’t that one guy say-’

“Hey there! You alrigh’?”

‘Fuuuuuuuuck, it’s Jedidiah.’

I turn around, and sure enough, it’s Owen Wilson’s Jedidiah Smith in all his glory.

“Yeah. Yeah, I’m good, I’m doin good,” the words almost rush out of my mouth. ‘Damn you, bisexual panic.’

He stuck out a hand. “Name’s Jedidiah, but you can just call me Jed,” he introduced.

Resisting the urge to say that I already knew that, I shook his hand. “I’m Drew. I'm looking for someone, maybe you've seen her?"

"Well, there ain't been anyone new here, 'cept for you, 'f 'course,"

'Damn, I guess she's not in this part of the museum.' "Can you help me find her? Please?" At this point I'm practically begging. I've got to find Charlie, I need to make sure she's alright.

"Of 'course! We'll go over to Octy, see if he knows where your friend's gone off to."

*time skip to when they get to the roman side*

We get to the Roman side, and I almost pass out when I see the architecture. It might all be done for looks, but from what I could see, they did a fantastic job on the details.

I'm interrupted from my gazing when Jedidiah says, "Y'know, yer takin' this a lot better than most,"

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Well, fer one, yer not panickin at the fact yer tiny, now."

'I'm too surprised I'm in a movie to be upset that I'm small, but okay.'

"And two, well, it's mostly just you not panickin', that's all I really got." As he says this, I start hearing talking in the distance. Some voices I don't know, but two of them stick out.

"-and, oh my gosh, your actually Octavius! This is wild, wow!"

We turn a corner and there she is, talking to Octavius and some of the other roman soldiers. And- oh god, she's wearing a toga. If she wasn't cute before, she definitely was now.

Running as fast as I can towards her, I shout, "Charlie!"

She turns around just in time to get tackle hugged by me. I almost cry into her shoulder. 'We might both be small here, but at least we're not alone,'

I vaguely hear Octavius ushering the Jedidiah and the others out to give us space, too focused on hugging Charlie. 'Wait, I'm hugging Charlie.'

I awkwardly back up, blushing. "Oh my god, I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to just hug you, I just- I- fuck, I'm just sorry."

"Drew! It's okay, you're fine!" I look at her and she's smiling at me, and without missing a beat she goes on. "You don't need to apologize, you know how much I love hugs!"

Ah, fuck. Now I look like an idiot. In front of Charlie, too.

Before I can say anything, she says, "I can't believe we're in a movie! And not just any movie, Night at the Museum! I was just talking to Octavius! Octavius, Drew! The emperor of Rome, lover of Jedidiah Smith! And-"

I interrupted her before she could continue. "Charlie, we can't stay here. We have to go home."

"But, Drew, there's so much to do here! We can't just leave without saying hi-"

"...Charlie..."

“-and we can talk to all the different exhibits! Oh my gosh, Drew this is gonna be so fun! Who should we talk to first?”

“Charlie…”

“I was thinking Sacajawea, she’s so cool! Oh! Do you think she’d like me?”

“Charlie.”

“What am I talking about, of course she would. Maybe after her we can go see Ahk!”

“Charlie-”

“Maybe he’d even let us look at the tablet! The Tablet! I wonder if it’s cold? Or does the magic make it warm?”

“Charlie-!”

“*gasp* Oh my gosh I almost forgot about the stars! Maybe we could-

“Charlie! Listen to me, goddammit!”

She stopped, startled at my outburst, looking at me with those big eyes.

“Charlie- *sigh*” My voice trembles as I say, “Look at us, Charlie, we’re too small.”

She gives me a look that says she doesn’t understand.

“We could die here, Charlie. Can’t you see that?”

It looks as though a switch is flipped in her head. She's quiet, so I go on.

"Charlie, we can't stay here, you have to understand. It's just- it's not- I can't-"

"We're- we're gonna die here?" her voice quivers, tears are starting to build in her eyes.

'Oooohh, I fucked uppppp,'

"No- no, Charlie, we're not-"

"Drew, I don't wanna die." Her voice is vibrating now, and she can't hold back her tears.

"Charlie, honey, look at me. No, don't look over there, look at me, okay?" She looks at me, and seeing her cry almost makes me break. But I have to be strong. For the both of us.

"Okay, I want you to repeat after me." She nods.

"We are going to get home."

"We- *sniff* we are going to get- get home."

"We are going to be okay."

"We are- going to- to be okay."

"We are not going to die."

"We are not- not going to die."

"Good. Now, let's figure out what to do first, alright?"

"Alright."

"Let's go and find the others, they might be able to help us out." Charlie grabs my hand as I walk away, making me stop.

"Drew. They went this way."

I let out a small sigh and smile a bit to myself. 'Good, she's back to normal. Somewhat.' "Yeah, you're right. We'll go and ask for help, this way."

That gets a small laugh out of her.

'Don't worry, Charlie. We'll get home. No matter what it takes.'

---------

Aaaaaaanndd that's all for now :) I'll make a part 2 to this, it's just starting to get kinda long for me, so I'm stopping for now.

[martianbugsbunny]

To Convince You That I Love You (A Kalluzeb Fic): Chapter 1

Yeehaw my fellow Spectres I just realized I had this short chapter fic lying around in my drafts like a romance novel heroine on a fainting couch so behold! Another soul escapes the drafts folder!!!! Basically the point is that Kallus is driving himself above and beyond because he's helplessly in love with Zeb and would do anything to prove it, but that reckless behavior gets him severely wounded and there are a few misconceptions and introspective moments before things eventually get sorted out with a happy ending!...unfortunately for you, you don't get the happy ending until I post that chapter, but the angst is tasty too. Frankly I'm not sure that summary did it justice, it's rather a delightful fic.

Read on and enjoy!

Kallus vaulted over a railing without even bothering to estimate how far below the next platform was. As he fell, he realized it was probably a longer distance than he should’ve jumped. He’d be lucky if he didn’t break an ankle.

He landed on the front parts of his feet; landing on his heels was more likely to cause an injury. He may have started his Rebel career as an intel man, sifting through the information others gathered and judging whether it was true or a lie based on his Imperial knowledge, but he had for a long time before that been a soldier in the Empire’s ranks. A foot soldier, and then an ISB agent, trained to maximize use of himself to hunt down threats to the Empire with the most efficiency possible. That meant knowing how to prevent himself, if at all possible, from being injured.

Even with all that tactical knowledge, Kallus felt a sharp pain shoot up his leg from his ankle, all the way up into his hip. He didn’t collapse, and he could still stand, which meant he hadn’t broken his femur (or any other bones, most likely) so he continued to chase after the Imperial agent he and the Spectres had been sent to apprehend. She was low enough level that a rescue squadron wouldn’t be sent after her, but high enough in the ISB that she might have some valuable information. Rebel command wanted her captured, and Kallus wasn’t about to let them down.

He had only been running for half a minute when he heard heavy footsteps, heavier even than his, behind him. Despite the limp in his gait and the fact that his vision was slightly blurred from the pain, Kallus smiled. He would know those footsteps in the dark, in the light, with the noise of a thousand other people walking all around him.

“You alright?” Zeb asked. He was barely even breathing heavily; no matter how much time Kallus spent training and exercising and in the field, Zeb was just built with more stamina than he was.

“Fine.” Kallus evened out his stride, although that caused him more pain. The limp was something Zeb spotted easily, given how closely the weakness in that leg was linked to their…friendship. He knew if he continued to keep his weight off it, Zeb would eventually insist that he sit this part of the mission out, and he just couldn’t do that.

A squad of stormtroopers came up behind them. The second they opened fire, Zeb came to a total stop and turned around to fire back. “Go! I’ll catch up with you!” he commanded. Kallus was too intent on his purpose to argue, so he did as Zeb said and kept on the agent’s tail.

There she was! She was moments away from boarding a shuttle. Kallus increased his speed, despite the fact that it was becoming harder to breathe by the moment.

Overhead, there was a distant sound that Kallus knew he recognized, but that he didn’t pay any attention to. He was so close. He couldn’t let anything distract him.

The second he set foot on the boarding ramp, the Imperial fighters above him opened fire, and the shuttle exploded.

[naturesapphic]

Could you do Jennifer tilly comforting her little girl after the little has been extremely bratty and overstimulated all day

Overstimulated

Mommy!jennifer Tilly x fem!little!reader

Warnings: age regression, hurt/comfort

Jennifer Tilly is your mommy and your wife. Since shes a big star, she travels to different places and goes to different interviews. Today was no different than any other day, Jennifer was in a interview for the third season of chucky while you were in a separate room, watching cartoons and having your snack. It was public that you are regressed and of course there was some hate but overall everyone was very nice and supportive.

Soon enough, your mommy came into the room and saw you on the couch asleep with your stuffie in your arms with my little pony in on the background playing. She smiled to herself and went over to you and picked your small frame up in her arms and carried you out to the limo. The roar of the engine of the limo woke you up and you whimpered which caused Jennifer to shush you gently to try and get you back to sleep which didn’t work.

All throughout the day you were cranky and irritated. It was interviews after interviews and you were getting very overwhelmed with the people and the bright lights that started to make your head ache. You started mouthing off at your mommy and throwing things when you got mad and you could tell she was getting irritated herself but didn’t want to make anything worse by punishing you right away, she wanted to know what’s wrong with her baby.

“Are you going to tell mommy what’s the matter now sweetie?” Your mommy Jennifer asked you. You shook your head no and she let out a sad sigh and scooped you into her arms and put you in the limo to head home to which you were excited about and your mommy could tell. She didn’t say anything else on the drive home, letting you have some space to think and hopefully tell her what’s the matter when y’all get home.

The limo parked in front of y’all’s mansion and she got out of the car first and picked you up out of the car and thanked the driver and bidded him a goodnight. Jennifer went inside with you still in her arms and she went upstairs to do y’all’s night routine which consisted of taking a bath, brushing y’all’s teeth, putting on pjs and heading to bed. Throughout all of that you didn’t give your mommy any more trouble as you were at home now and you were starting to calm down some and was ready to tell your mommy what was wrong today.

After y’all’s nightly routine she picked you up once more and laid you down into y’all’s shared bed as your mommy went to go grab you some of your favorite books so she can read to you but before she went anywhere you gently grabbed her arm and softly pulled her towards you. “Sowwy mommy…nu like all da people’s an noises an bright lights…hurts my head mommy…” you said softly, trying to explain to your mommy why you have been acting bratty and irritated all day. Your mommy gave you a reassuring smile and leant down to give you a gentle kiss on your forehead.

“It’s alright sweet cakes. Mommy understands. Next time when you start to feel like that, let mommy know so she can help you okay princess?” She said and you nodded as she smiled back at you. She went off and grabbed your favorite books and went back in the bed beside you. You instantly cuddled up next to her as she started reading to you and sook enough you fell asleep in her loving arms.

A/n: I hope the anon and the rest of y’all enjoyed this! Requests are still open for all of my characters including of course Rhea ripley/Demi Bennett. I have my own buy me a coffee page! You can give me a dollar and it will help. I also have some different commission types I will do so here's my page to look into it :) https://www.buymeacoffee.com/naturesapphic Requests are open for yeehaw!wanda, country!wanda, and any other southern variants of Wanda or Natasha! Remember to stay hydrated and to rest! I love y'all!

[enbee-ai]

@its-your-mind this is for you

here are my notes on malevolent's season one, episodes one through eight

considering my history with eye-related imagery podcasts, it was only obvious that one day i'd get around to malevolent as well. so here it is:

the two things i knew going in are as follow:

one of them is named john, while the other's name is arthur. i have no clue who is which

lots of the aforementioned eye imagery. i think at least one of them might be coded yellow, although as far as i know they are... sharing a body, perhaps. one of them is not human. and he's EVIL

i didn't jot down many notes while listening to the first bunch of episodes, but i have some general thoughts.

the setup is really smart. it's a really good idea to have arthur suddenly go blind and having john describe his surroundings, the people they come across and the actions arthur himself is going to take, but it also almost feels like a dnd campaign as far as descriptions and the dialogue goes (good, i'm very passionate about taz), especially when john gives arthur a description and arthur asks him questions, or when john lays out the possible courses of action they could take and leaves the choice to arthur. also why are there dice sounds sometimes when john notices some detail or other? what's up with that

part 1 "the dark world", part 2 "the missing girl", part 3 "the mansion", all in rapid fire:

(at this point i was convinced this was all taking place in england. podcast protagonists love being named john, and british)

i love stories that start in medias res, but this isn't even that. this is directly after the res. intriguing

peter... a private detective's partner in investigating... mmh nureyev i am constantly reminded of you come back home

the mystery seems straightforward enough, at least as much as a mystery can be, but arthur's detective skills really shine through here. he seems quite level headed.

it's really funny that he tells the voice (this is what i was calling john until episode five) to shut up and calm the fuck down he's so right for that, you go you funky little detective! 

i wonder when he's going to break down

DRIVING? WHILE BLIND???

creepy rotting abandoned mansions and mystery babies, love it, nothing to complain about

part 4 "the voices"

is the guy (kellin) the one who can actually hear the voice? is the severed head just a lifeless thing? does he think ! he can't hear the voice while his sister's head can, because he's unstable? is this what's happening? how would this guy (kellin again, i had no idea how to spell his name before looking it up i apologize) even be able to talk to the severed head in the lake?

oh this is GOOD horror

part 5 "the gift"

what? how did that happen? what? (i'm apparently referring to how arthur got in a hospital, according to the time stamp i left next to this note!)

is that the dream world the book guy was talking about in his notes?

did they actually have this kind of medical technology back in the 1930's?

oooh john

OO FRIEND

thank you for the recap of the previous five episodes i have just listened to

I KNEW SHE WAS DEAD!! CONSEQUENCES (of being asleep for a month)  (i'm talking about amanda / sarah here)

part 6 "the hill"

john seems to really like saying arthur's name

"arthur" "what?" "it's closed." hah

alright yes i s'pose i could yeh

how come john keeps asking arthur to play the piano? is there a reason beyond the obvious?

oh oh his reaction!! it's so lovely!!

gingerly walking into a gun shop and buying a gun like the real americans do. yeehaw

"you know how to [pick a lock]?" "many times, friend" "friend"

!!! john is so surprised to be called arthur's friend!! he didn't even notice it when they were in the hospital but arthur's been calling him that for a while now, back before the coma :)))

"more than telling (turn right) more than telling—"

part 7 "the island"

abandoned houses, severed heads, creepy lighthouses in the middle of a foggy lake, hitchhiking with the wrong guy. cults

all of my favorite things

we fucked up, you fucked up

who's john????????? what 

what do you mean who's john. what's happening to him, why doesn't he remember his own name that he picked out for himself kind of

part 8 "the caves"

"once more in the abyss, john" "once more, friend"

first time john's called arthur his friend! it's even more meaningful knowing how much he likes calling him arthur

john hates rhetorical questions, i see. although i'm pretty sure they're an integral part of being a PI and reasoning stuff out

the coffins were removed... and the widow wasn't alone... this is the thing that fucks me up the most 

more dice sounds

"if they are a cult, who or what are they worshipping", i see john's the one asking the rhetorical questions now

a woman? the widow? why has she gone feral

counting? what? the coffins? time? (about the signs they find on the cave's walls)

ah

john 😳 i need you with me on this 😳

the black goat, the king in yellow (arthur and john? is that why they're coded yellow? is john the king in yellow? could that be?)

is john hiding something? why is the fact that he left the severed head behind continually brought up? is it going to be relevant, was the head actually... supernatural?

does john know something he isn't telling arthur?

antoine's final plan and henry's sacrifice ?

"the one who wore, yellow?" "yes the king in yellow"

the one who tried to kill arthur in episode one? (i think this might be referring to the one who killed sarah, or the one who was following her)

"FUCK YOU JOHN" "FUCK ME? FUCK YOUR EYES"

well john is obviously worried that arthur's lack of empathy for the creatures they've come across up to this point will translate in a... rejection of some sort (fear, disgust, or anger) towards him if and when they find out where john came from and what he is

he's also aware that the time he spent in the dark world must have greatly influenced him, both in his actions and his mind. i think this is why he is showing so much empathy for the widow (was she really?) getting sucked into the cult, he knows how much the environment you're in and the company you are with can influence a mind

i mean, this is just speculating. i hope whatever malevolent veteran is reading this is having a laugh

this also makes me think that john might be having quite the influence on arthur's mind, to an extent, one that arthur is not aware of, at all

well, shit

[thesconesyard]

Yeehaw!! McCoy flowed so easy, even if it is from Scotty.

When the Cactus Blooms

6. Wide Open Spaces

Scotty looked out at the night and couldn’t help the small sigh of awe that escaped him. The sky was velvety dark and the stars were shining and twinkling. The moon was just beginning to break the horizon.

“Beautiful night.”

“Aye,” Scotty agreed. He turned around to face the fire and McCoy sitting across from him.

They had left the ranch midafternoon to ride up the creek that flowed through the north pasture and into the river. Its waters had lowered to nearly half its usual depth, though there had been no dry spell yet. Jim was worried something had blocked it and so Scotty and McCoy were riding to see.

Uhura and Christine had sent them plenty of good food, easy to cook in the open. Scotty looked over again as McCoy let out a laugh.

“What?” he asked.

McCoy was pulling something out of the bag. One of the horses snorted over where they had tied them up to graze for the evening. They’d bring them back and hook them to the wagon when they went to sleep.

“Chris,” McCoy said with a shake of his head. “Where on earth did she…? Must’ve got’em from Geoff when I wasn’t looking.”

“What is it Doc?” Scotty couldn’t see it in the firelight. McCoy was stretching over to hand him something.

“Pair of peaches,” McCoy said happily. “That gal is a peach,” he chuckled. “She knows how I miss them.”

“Oh,” Scotty said, his chest tightening for a moment. “Thank you.” He held the fruit gently before finally taking a bite. “Oh!” he said in surprise with his mouth full.

“Yeah, they’re good alright,” McCoy said, holding his own.

“No, no, I just got juice all over me,” Scotty laughed. He wiped a hand down his front. “Ye coulda warned me Doc.”

McCoy grinned at him. “Now I’m gonna have to think of something to get her,” he said, looking thoughtful.

Scotty felt his hand shaking just the tiniest bit as he looked at McCoy again. He swallowed then spoke.

“Ye pair are close.”

“Known each other a long time,” McCoy nodded. “Came out here together you know.”

“What brought ye two?” Scotty looked at him curiously.

McCoy took the last bite of his fruit, then turned and threw the pit away. He gave his mouth a quick wipe with the back of his hand, and got to his feet. Scotty blinked in surprise.

“I-I didn’t—” he stammered.

“Nah,” McCoy waved a hand at him, as he dug into one of his saddlebags. “Need a little of this if we’re gonna get into that.” He came back to the fire and sat down holding a bottle.

“Come on,” he said, leaning forward, “where’s your cup?”

Scotty looked around himself in surprise, but found his cup and held it out. McCoy poured a full measure of an amber liquid, before pouring one for himself. Scotty nodded thanks.

He heard McCoy take a deep breath.

“I was married,” he said. “Before I came out here.”

“Oh.” Scotty was watching now. He hadn’t known that. “Was?” he asked.

“Yep.” McCoy’s tone changed. “Thought everything was good. The way it was supposed to be. Just finished my training to be a doctor; was starting to establish my own practice. Jocelyn Darnell was the prettiest thing around. Thought I had it made.”

McCoy stopped and took a drink from his cup. Scotty remembered he was holding his and took a drink too.

“I thought wrong,” McCoy said in a dark voice. “My father got sick. Real sick. Met Chris then. She was a nurse and came in to help take care of him.” McCoy’s voice got quiet. “Did everything we could but we couldn’t save him.”

He tossed back the rest of his drink and filled his cup again. He held the bottle towards Scotty, but he waved it off.

“Jocelyn got jealous. Thought there was something between Chris and me, no matter how many times I told her there wasn’t. Chris was engaged to a fella named Roger. Good man.”

“What happened?” Scotty asked after McCoy had been silent, looking in his cup.

“She divorced me.” McCoy shrugged. “Took off with a friend of mine. Roger was in a train accident and died. Chris and me, all we had left was each other. So we decided to pack up and find somewhere new together.”

“Why didn’t ye set up a new practice? When ye got here?”

“I tried for a bit, before you came. Worked with Dr. M’Benga in town, but never could get past doubting myself. I couldn’t save my own father, how could I save others?”

“Oh Doc…”

McCoy shook his head. “I like this. Being outside, working hard.” He looked up at the sky and the stars spread above them. “It’s good and we’re happy.”

Scotty sipped his drink. It was a good whisky and he wondered where McCoy had got it. ‘They’d had nothing left but each other; they were happy.’ The phrase repeated itself in his mind, eating at him. His heart began to pound, but he couldn’t stop his mouth.

“So… ye two… are ye- are ye together?” His tongue was thick getting the question out.

McCoy frowned gently.

“Me and Chris?” He laughed. “She’s my best friend and I love her to the ends of the earth. She’s the sister I never got to have. She still misses Roger and no one’ll ever replace him in her heart.”

Scotty breathed a silent sigh of relief.

“Besides,” McCoy continued, “there’s…there’s someone else I’ve got my eye on.”

“Oh.” Scotty’s chest tightened again. Deep down he knew it’d been too much to hope for. “Someone in town?”

“No. Someone a whole lot closer than that.” McCoy winked at him. “Think I’m gonna turn in,” he said quickly, getting to his feet.

“Right,” Scotty said flatly, as his heart began to race and his face warmed. Maybe he did still have that chance…

[maddstermind]

I'm crying at some of these titles - but also Lemon Demon is making more sense now knowing you know Homestuck (this is a compliment btw, I'm adding some of their songs to my list (Knife Fight)) ANYWAY - pls tell me more about howie dies dot jpeg and 999 999 laughing for real right now- On a more serious note - we're doing it man, we're making this happen You've been updated to Warheads cause my face currently resembles sucking on one I'm losing my fuckin mind rn

Yes, YES, I highly recommend pretty much everything Lemon Demon has every done. Listen to Bustin', it's hilarious. (As far as I know, Lemon Demon/Neil Cicierega has nothing to do with Homestuck, but they do have a similar vibe lmao. Also I'm honored to be upgraded.)

OKAY WRITING THINGS YEEHAW.

howie dies dot jpeg Snippet:

President Howard Goodman sat at his desk in the Oval Office, alone. The orange light of the setting sun filled the room, silhouetting him with his back to the window. He was alone. He kept telling himself that.  There was no one else in the room, hadn't been for hours as he demanded to be left alone for the rest of the day, but he could not convince himself that he was actually alone. He felt watched. Every shadow out of the corner of his eye looked to be a person, or a beast, or some horrific fusion of the two. It was worth mentioning that Howard hadn't been sleeping well lately.

About: The other (joke) working title for this was "Howie's Hot Girl Summer." The real title was "I'll Find You In The Next Timeline." It was meant to be for the 2023 Hatchetfield Big Bang (which I host!), but I got swamped and wasn't able to work on it for long. It's a timeloop story about the (fictional) President of the United States, Howard Goodman. And also he's in love with the mysterious military man, General John McNamara. I'll probably eventually get around to finishing and publishing it. Someday.

999 999 laughing for real right now Snippet:

"When I meet my soulmate, I'll tell you about all the colors, okay?" Light teased her about how she'd be able to describe colors without using examples, but she was stubborn. She swore she'd tell him what colors were like. "Alright," Light ruffled her hair, "you better keep your promise, then." "I will!" She grinned, though he didn't see it. He didn't have too, though. He just knew.

About: This fic is from [claps] 2017! I always meant to get around to finishing it... It's called "Prism of Light," and its a Zero Escape soulmate AU, the one where you start seeing color when you touch your soulmate for the first time. It's Light/Aoi (Snake/Santa) and I only got about two chapters in, but it is on AO3 for the curious. (It's not very good.)

we're doing it man, we're making it happen Snippet:

At age nine, Max saw a picture of Mothman and decided that was what they wanted to be when they grew up, and they've been working towards it ever since. Their desire to discover the bizarre often led to them believing too easily — luckily for them, Lizzie was always there to balance the scales. While she also had a keen interest in the weird, she was more skeptical, thinking things through more thoroughly before deciding whether or not to believe them. Together, the two had spent their years of friendship exploring the island town of Saint Hazel, following every possible lead in hopes of finding any scrap of strangeness in the sanitized town. They'd had their fair share of successes, even if it was never anything as grand-scale as Max hoped.

About: The actual title of this one is "The Conspiracy Gang," and it almost belongs in the "mix of both" category. It's an original work that is based on a roleplay of Starkid's Hatchetfield series done by me and my friends; the main characters are/were our OCs for the universe, but I love them so much I wanted to write a version of their story on my own (with my friend's permission, of course!) Max is my character, and Lizzie belongs to my good friend @cosmic--static! I haven't gotten that far into writing it, sadly, because I've been so heavily focused on Auberon. But someday!!!!!! OH ALSO ITS A COSMIC HORROR STORY FORGOT TO MENTION LMAO