#and putting me and her into the same box just cause we are women

[thewritingrowlet]

The Second Chance, ft. Red Velvet Wendy

tags: creampie, first time

length: almost 13k

author's note: well, I guess I lied about releasing this by weekend

-

“Miss Son, may I talk to you for a bit?” Wendy’s gaze moves to look at you. “Sure—do you want to talk here, or?” You nod. “Yes, please.”

Wendy invites you to sit on the armchair next to the sofa she’s sitting on. “Can I help you?” “No, not really; I just want to say that today will be my last day with you.” She furrows her eyebrows. “Where are you going?” You grin a little. “Erm, Jiho and I are moving to Japan.” The frown on her face is quickly replaced with excitement. “Oh my God, congratulations!” Wendy hugs you from the side, kind as ever. “Thank you, Miss Son,” your cheeks are getting red, “I, erm, I’m looking forward to having a new life with her.”

Wendy pulls you onto her feet. “Let’s go buy stuff—y’know, parting gifts.” “Oh, that won’t be necessary, Miss Son,” you decline politely, “as far as I know, you’re busy today.” She puts her fists on her waist. “Are you sure you don’t want presents?” You smile. “It’s not that I don’t want them, Miss Son; it’s just that you’ve shown us so much kindness already.” She pouts for a split second before smiling again. “You’re glazing, oppa.” You burst out laughing. “And you spend too much time on social media, Miss Son.”

After the laughs die down, you walk with her towards the lobby where a chauffeur is waiting for the two of you. “Can you brief me on my schedules today?” You unlock the tablet in your hand to look at your notes. “We’ll be going to the food bank first like I said, and here it says you’ll be attending a meeting at Han Group.” “Oh, Han Group—they’re such a good bunch,” you can hear the excitement in her voice, as if impatient to go to that meeting.

-

The car stops in front of the food bank after a 30-minute drive. “We’re here, Miss Son,” the chauffeur says. Wendy stirs awake from her nap. “Oh, we are?” She pulls out a small folding mirror from her purse to look at herself. She tidies her hair to make herself look presentable. “I think I look okay.”

Wendy gets out of the car, and that’s your sign to do the same. Your heart jumps when she wraps an arm around yours—she has never done this before. “Let’s go,” she says, clueless to the fact that your cheeks are blazing hot. “Y-yes, miss.”

You open the door for her, and heads are promptly turned towards you and her. Wendy, used to attention, starts waving and smiling. “Ah, Miss Son, welcome to our house,” someone approaches the two of you—her little name tag says that her name is Han Haru. Wendy lets go of your arm to shake Haru’s hand. “I’m excited to be here, Miss Han.”

Haru asks that you and Wendy follow her to her office that’s located on the second floor, and like the proper assistant that you are, you take position behind the two women.

“Have a seat, please, Miss Son,” Haru says. Wendy sits on the chair on the other side of the desk and asks you to sit next to her. “I take it you’re here to volunteer?” Wendy nods enthusiastically. “Yes, and I’ll also be donating to your cause.”

Haru smiles. “I don’t mean to offend you at all, Miss Son, but why are you doing this—why aren’t you sitting on the top floor of some skyscraper counting your piles of bills?” Wendy smiles twice as softly. “What good is a pile of money if not used for the correct purposes, Miss Han?” Haru nods, satisfied with the answer. “Are we ready to start, then?” Wendy gets on her feet right away. “Thought you’d never ask.”

Haru gives Wendy a vest with the food bank’s logo on the back. “So, what do we do now?” “We’ll make a stop at the kitchen; the crew are working hard to prepare a ton of food, and we’ll help them box it for distribution.” “Sounds great—let’s go, then,” Wendy’s always-positive mind is admirable.

The three of you arrive at the kitchen after a short walk. Wendy’s eyes look at each person present, highly impressed and touched by their kind hearts for being willing to do such work that doesn’t pay much.

“Oppa,” she whispers to you, “can you arrange some bread for them?” You nod. “Of course, Miss Son.” You pull out your phone to text her treasurer, and after a short back-and-forth, the treasurer says that she’ll get it ready within the next hour. “She’s working on it, Miss Son,” you inform her, getting a nod as a response.

Haru points at a table that’s full of folded food containers and says that Wendy will be working on it first, and then after the food is ready, Haru and her will pack each one to the brim. “Are you also taking a part in this?” “Yes, I am―Miss Son here wouldn’t last a day without me,” you say, earning an elbow to the ribs from Wendy. “Alright, you can work with her, then—I’ll be helping somewhere else.”

You grab one folded container from the table and immediately start working on it, and since you’ve handled this sort of thing before, you know how to shape them into a ready-to-use form. Wendy, on the other hand, isn’t having as much success as you. “Oppa, slow down; let me see how you do it.” “You’ve never done this before?” “No, I—oh my God, slow down!” She airs her frustration when she sees you work on another box swiftly. “Alright, alright—here.”

You grab one more from the pile and place it on the table. “See these lines, Miss Son?” Wendy’s eyes follow your finger that’s running along the lines on the paper. “The factory put these lines here as a guide for you to fold.” “Okay, so?” You fold the paper following the lines, and after such simple steps, the box starts to take shape. You wait for Wendy to do the same things you have. You can see the fascination on her face now that she’s making progress. “Okay, okay—now what?” “Lift these little tabs and fit them into the slits, just like this.” Once again, she does the same things, and after finishing it, Wendy begins clapping in excitement—she’s clapping and jumping so much that her vest that’s just a bit too big is bouncing around. “Oh my God—oh my God, that was so cool!” “Dozens to go, Miss Son.”

You and Wendy finish shaping these boxes at a steady pace, but before the two of you manage to finish the pile, Haru announces that the food is ready to be packed. “I’ll take care of this, Miss Son; you can go help Miss Han,” you say. Without saying a word, Wendy quickly jogs towards the assembly line. You steal some glances every now and then, and in a particular instance, you see her expressions that scream “I’m overwhelmed”: her eyes are moving rapidly, her mouth is open, and her hands are shaking.

“You can stop, mister; I think we have enough boxes, and we need your help here,” Haru says from the distance. You rush towards Wendy and Haru so that you can help them. “Help us with those bags, please.” You shake paper bags upside down to fill them with air. The expanded bags can then hold the food container.

-

In her out-of-breath state, Wendy crashes onto a nearby bench. “How are we feeling, Miss Son?” She puts on a thumbs-up for you. “Amazing—I-I feel like a saint right now.” You laugh. “I mean, you kind of are at this point.” You pull out a small bottle of water from your back pocket. “Would you like some water, Miss Son?” She nods, so you crack it open and hand it over to her. “Thanks, oppa.”

You guess that she doesn’t have the energy to walk to her car, so you ask the chauffeur to come to your location. “The car is on the way, Miss Son.” Once again, she nods, still unable to stop panting.

Before long, the car pulls into the side of the road close to you. “Can you walk, Miss Son?” “Yeah, yeah—just one second, please.” While Wendy stumbles towards the car, you take the initiative to open the door for her. “Oh, that’s so nice of you, oppa—are you sure you don’t want to stay, because I can’t imagine a day without you.” You smile. “Apologies, miss, but the decision has been made.”

Once she’s inside, Wendy asks you to grab another bottle of water, so you do just that. Now that she’s in the privacy of her car, she doesn’t bother drinking neatly, letting water drip off her chin and onto her clothes. “Excuse me, Miss Son,” you wipe her chin with tissue to clean the mess. “You’re treating me like a kid,” she comments. You apologize once more. “Just trying to make sure you look okay for the meeting.” Wendy sinks into her seat. “Meeting? Really?”

Soon, the car stops in front of the Han Group building. “I’m going to fucking cry,” she says. Wendy rarely curses, only saying them when she’s in the most frustrating or annoying moments. “Remind me what I’m here for?” “Erm,” you quickly open your notes, “you’re here for a friendly visit.” Wendy looks out the window. “I’ll need you to keep your ears open, oppa—if you hear me say cake, pull me out of the meeting.” You nod. “Certainly, Miss Son.”

You get out of the car first and head towards the receptionist table. “Hello, I’m with the Son Industries,” you show the lady your employee ID card, “I’m here with Miss Son for a meeting.” “Sure, but where is she?” You point at her car that’s stopped at the lobby. “She’s still catching her breath—oh, there she is,” you see Wendy walking through the door with a smile. The receptionist reaches for the landline on her desk, and before long, she’s ready to take you to the meeting room.

The lady stops in front of a small office space on the first floor. “The boss will join you in a moment,” she says. The lady then leaves after you thank her (with a smile on your face, of course), leaving you alone with Wendy. You open the door for her. “After you, Miss Son.”

You take a seat on the empty chair next to her. Wendy lets out a hum, and when you look at her, she’s trying to roll her chair towards you. “I hope you don’t mind,” she says. “Sorry?” She doesn’t answer you, opting to show you instead by resting her head on your shoulder. “If there’s anything I can do to sway you from leaving me, let me know.” “Miss Son—” “Yeah, yeah, the decision has been made or whatever you said.”

You wrap an arm around her shoulder. “If the plan fails, I’ll come back running to you, Miss Son—well, if you’d let me, that is.” Wendy chuckles. “You’re always welcome at Son Industries, oppa.”

Through the glass pane, you see that the boss of the Han Group is approaching, so you tap Wendy’s arm to get her to straighten her posture. “Did you know that my father tried arranging a marriage for me and that guy?” You furrow your eyebrows—you never heard about such arrangement. “Mr. Han Harvey? Really?” Wendy sighs. “Well, he’s married to someone else now, so it doesn’t matter anymore—I like older guys anyway.”

“Miss Son,” Harvey greets her with a smile, “thank you for coming.” Wendy puts on her businesswoman smile. “Of course, Mr. Han; thank you for inviting me.” Harvey takes a seat on the other side of the desk. “We’ll be talking about business a little if that’s okay with you, Miss Son.” Wendy chuckles. “I was afraid you’d say that, but sure.”

-

“Thank you, Mr. Lee—I’ll see you tomorrow morning.”

Wendy enters her house and beelines towards the kitchen to find something to put in the microwave. She sees some leftover kimbap from yesterday when she opens the fridge. “Yeah, sure.”

Once the reheated food is in her hands, she grabs the letter you’ve written for her as a “parting gift.” “Why am I nervous about this, it’s just a letter,” Wendy questions herself. She tries clearing her mind by taking a few deep breaths first. “Alright, here goes nothing.”

“Miss Son,

I was the first person in my entire extended family to have gotten a bachelor's degree, and with only that degree in my back pocket, I mustered up the courage to apply to your father’s big-city company. Heh, I still remember how my heart raced when I received an interview invitation 10 days after I had applied.

I spent the night wondering what I should wear, since I had been told that first impressions are the most important thing when looking for a job, but at the time, I only had a few shirts of different colors and some grey and black trousers. Eventually, I decided to put on a red shirt and grey trousers since I thought that I would look good in them.

I remember walking through the big doors of the ground floor, and it might have been just me, but I thought people were looking at me weird, and believe me when I say that it killed my confidence that was nearly nonexistent to begin with.

The receptionist at the time was Miss Kim Yerim. I remember the kind smile on her face when she first greeted me. She immediately asked me if I was going to an interview, and before long, I found myself sitting in an empty room nervously, waiting for someone to enter and actually start asking me questions.

I remember calling my parents immediately after I had been told that I was accepted at your father’s company. I understand that it might sound corny or stupid to you considering what kind of job it was, but for a man with simple dreams like me, it meant the world to me, Miss Son.

Since I don’t have much space left on this page, I’ll skip some details and tell you how I felt when I was told that I’d become your personal assistant. Truthfully, Miss Son, I couldn’t sleep; I was so busy worrying about working directly under you.

It didn’t help that you weren’t in the best mood when I first met you that morning. I recall the way your sharp gaze was directly aimed at me. Honestly, it felt like there was a hole between my eyes because of it. Little did I know that behind all your charades, you’re actually a very kind person. 

Ultimately, I’d like to thank you, Miss Son. You’ve given this guy from the countryside plenty of chances to grow, both as an employee and a person, and I promise that I will never stop growing and learning wherever I am.

Miss Son, I’d like to think that this isn’t a perpetual goodbye, but rather a brief divergence. As much as I’m about to live a new life with my wife in a new land, I believe that one day I’ll find my way back to Son Industries, and whenever that may be, I hope that you keep yourself safe and well until then.

With respect and admiration,

Jin Changmin”

Tears that have been flowing freely out of Wendy’s eyes land on the letter. “Goodness me, oppa, why are you doing this to me—I-I thought we had something special.” She tries reading the letter from the top again, but her mind can’t focus. “God damn it, why, oppa?” Her weak hand lets go of the letter, thus letting it drop onto the carpet. “I-I love you, Jin Changmin—by God, I love you so, so much.” No matter how loud or how many times she says it, she doesn’t hear any answer, and it wrings her heart beyond help.

In a dangerous mix of anger and anguish, Wendy tosses the mug in front of her at the wall, shattering it into hundreds of pieces—a manifestation of her broken heart. “I-I hate you, oppa; I-I hate that you’ve left me like this.”

Wendy contemplates if she wants to burn the letter, but at the last minute, she decides against it. “Come back to me soon, oppa; I’ll be waiting for you.”

-

“Love, we’re here—we’re actually here,” Jiho tugs your hand that she’s holding, seemingly in disbelief that the two of you have reached Japan. “You’re excited, aren’t you, love?” Jiho nods. “I’m both excited and nervous, but I have you with me, so I’m sure I’ll be fine.”

You lift your hand to hail a cab for you and your wife, and the first thing you do is shove your luggage into the trunk. After getting in, you speak into the translator app, which, well, translates your words, and not long after that, the cab starts rolling. “No turning back now,” you think.

You pull Jiho closer to you. “Get some nap, love; I’ll keep an eye out for us.” She promptly yawns. “I love you,” she says softly. “I love you too,” you end your reply by giving a peck on her head.

It doesn’t take long for you to reach your destination, which is a regular 5-story apartment building not too far from the center of the city. “Love, we’re here,” you tap your wife’s arm to wake her up. She looks around with half open eyes. “Oh, okay.” While she gathers herself after her nap, you get off the cab first to take your luggage out the trunk.

Once Jiho is ready, you take her hand in yours and walk with her towards your new unit.

“Oh, this is pretty cool,” Jiho comments. “Do we have a bidet?” She jogs to the bathroom to check. “Oh, yes, we do—wow, it’s already so much better here.” Her excitement is infectious, and you can’t help but feel the same.

You take a seat on the edge of the bed, and without being asked, Jiho takes her favorite spot on your lap. “Thank you for everything, love,” she says. You peck her on the lips. “You are all I have, love.” She smiles. “And you are all I have, especially in this foreign land.”

Jiho suddenly comes in for a kiss, her hands placed neatly on your nape. “What do you say we break this place in?” “Only if you promise you won’t be too loud.” She laughs. “I can’t help it; my husband is almost too big for me.”

You fall backwards onto the bed, letting your wife take a different position. “Love, I don’t have the energy to ride you,” she says, so you let her lie on her back first before getting on top of her. “Ah, this is more like it.”

Jiho reaches for the topmost button on your shirt but stops before your last button. “Something feels odd,” she comments, “do you not want to do this?” You’ve been caught. “Sorry, I was just thinking about something else—I’ll focus on us now.” Jiho furrows her eyebrows. “You weren’t thinking about Miss Son, were you?” You weren’t, but now that she mentions it, you wonder what Miss Son is up to. “No, I wasn’t,” you deflect.

Jiho asks you to prove to her if you’re truly focused on her and only her, her words laced with jealousy. “You got it, love,” you reply.

You can feel that Jiho is quite unhappy with you, but the way she lets out a small gasp when your lips first latch on the side of her neck assures you that the situation can be salvaged as long as you perform well.

Jiho guides your hand towards her breasts, and that’s a sign to you that she’s feeling better. “T-touch me here, please.” You palm and play with her breast like she wants you to, thus earning soft moans from her. “Yes, just like that, love—just don’t think about anything else.”

You stop the stimulation on her neck when you see that there’s a decently sized pink spot on it. “You’ll need to put on a scarf when we go out tonight, love.” Jiho chuckles. “Nah, I’ll proudly show off your mark.”

You straighten your posture to undress properly, and while you do that, Jiho takes the chance to do the same. You think that she’s ready now that she’s down to her underwear, but based on her expressions, she’s not in the right mind just yet.

“Oppa,” she calls to you, “I’m feeling something, but I can’t put it into words.” You keep your eyes on her. “Is it bad?” Jiho bites her bottom lip nervously. “I-I don’t know.” You start petting her head gently. “Can you describe a little?” “I just feel… uneasy—I feel like something is looming ahead, but I don’t know what.” You put on a smile that you hope is assuring. “I understand if you’re nervous, but as long as we stick together, we will be fine, love.”

Jiho holds your hand with her soft hands. “I hope you won’t blame me when things don’t work out—I’m being serious right now.” “It wouldn’t be fair for me, love; we’re in this together, are we not?” Your respond doesn’t quite satisfy Jiho. “What would you do if things don’t work out, oppa?” “I’d take you back to Korea,” you say the first answer in your head. Jiho takes a few deep breaths. “Sounds good.”

This doesn’t feel like a good transition to sex, so you ask if she wants to continue like this. “Just… hold me for now, please,” she requests. “Of course, love.”

-

“I’m home,” you say as you enter through the door, but there’s no sign of her. Usually, she’ll rush to you as soon as she hears the door swing open, but not today. “Love, where are you?” You put down the bouquet on the living room table and start walking around the interior. Your heart rate spikes when you hear moans coming out of the bedroom. “What is she doing,” you think as your hand turns the handle.

Your heart comes to an immediate stop—she’s having sex with someone else, bouncing her butt on his lap. “What the fuck?” Jiho turns her head to look at you. “Oh, hey, there,” she waves at you casually. “What the fuck are you doing right now?” She laughs. “Why, I’m having sex—y’know, because you wouldn’t touch me.” You tilt your head so that you can look at the guy. “Who the fuck is that, even?” She shrugs. “I don’t know; I just met him last night.”

Jiho gets off the guy’s dick and makes her way towards you—you manage to catch a glimpse of his size, and he’s not even half as big as you are. “You’re mad, aren’t you?” You look at her in the eyes, trying your hardest to stay calm amidst the crazy turn of events. “I have some adjectives to describe my feelings right now.” She laughs, seemingly mocking you. “Well, should’ve not skipped touching your wife, then.”

Before you address this further, you gesture to the guy to leave because you don’t think he speaks the same language as you do. He says something when he passes you; not sure what, but the smirk on his face indicates that he probably said something dirty about you or Jiho. “Fuck you, asshole.” You punch him in the stomach, and when he bends because of the impact, you kick his butt like it was a soccer ball, officially kicking him out of your apartment.

With that guy out of the apartment, you turn your attention to your wife. “You look calm, but I can see smoke coming out of your ears.” You shove Jiho by her shoulders, thus making her fall backwards onto the bed. “Since when you turned into such a slut?” “Recently—you know, when you ignored me.” You furrow your eyebrows. “Ignored you? You said you were on period,” you argue. She laughs. “And you just believed me? You couldn’t be bothered to check with your own eyes?” You can’t believe your ears. “What was I supposed to do, pull your pants down? What if you had actually been on your period?”

Jiho makes another argument, but in your disinterested state of mind, you ignore her, opting to undress instead. “Wha-what are you doing?” “You said you wanted to be touched, didn’t you?” She gulps. “W-well, yes,” she’s starting to crack under the pressure. “W-wait, love, please listen to me.” You stop in your tracks. “What?” You can tell that her heart is racing. “Love, I-I’m sorry; I-I realized I’ve just made a fatal mistake.” You scoff. “You only said it because I caught you in action—did you enjoy it, by the way, because he was quite small,” you add a little taunt. She shakes her head, visibly scared of this side of you that she has never seen before. “I-I couldn’t even feel him, I swear!”

You quickly get on top of Jiho, her nervous, rapid breaths hitting your face endlessly. “What the fuck were you moaning for then, hm?” “Uh, uh, d-dramatic effects?” Your mind clouded by blind rage, you slap her on the cheek, thus leaving a big red mark on it. “Dramatic effects? What are you, a fucking porn star?” Jiho starts sobbing because of the sting—she’s debating whether it’s her face or her heart that’s in worse pain. “P-please, I-I didn’t enjoy it—I swear to God,” the sobs make her words sound less intelligible.

You stop for a moment. Deep inside, you’re trying so hard to regain control of your raging heart and mind. “You’re going to regret this, you know.” She nods. “I-I’m already regretting it, l-love.” You exhale deeply. “Don’t call me that.” Jiho hesitantly reaches for your face that’s hovering closely above hers. “B-but I love you; I-I really do.” You grab her wrists and slowly guide her hands off your face. “Why did you do that, then—why did you hurt me like that?” “I-I don’t know.”

You grab her ankles and fold her in half. “Do you know where this is going?” She nods. “C-claim me, my love.” You flinch a little when you hear the name. “Don’t fucking call me that, slut.” Jiho’s eyes widen in shock. “P-please don’t call me that.” “You don’t deserve love or honey, so I’m calling you a slut, and you’re going to fucking like it.”

Jiho lets out a moan when your cock suddenly enters her pussy. “M-make me yours again,” she says. She lets out another moan when the tip of your cock reaches her deepest spot. “Yes, just like that.”

You turn up the pace to the maximum that you’re able to do, using the feral flame of jealousy and anger in your heart as fuel. “Fucking slut,” you insult her, “I tried being respectful, and this is how you pay me back?” “L-love—nghk!” Her speech is interrupted due to your palm that’s choking her. “Shut the fuck up,” you growl.

You don’t know how long you’ve been fucking her like this, but one thing that’s sure is that orgasm is almost at the door. “C-cum inside a-and claim me back,” she urges. “You still dare making demands?” Jiho shakes her head. “I-I was just… s-saying—oh, fuck.”

You quickly pull out of her pussy and flip her onto her stomach. With your cock in hand, you guide it until the tip touches her rear entrance. “I should fuck you here, make it loose for anyone who comes after.” Jiho trembles. “I-I haven’t—w-we haven’t put anything in there.” You chuckle. “Is that so, because I could’ve sworn I saw that guy put his middle finger in your ass.” “Y-you saw—fuck!” You interrupt her with a smack to the butt. “I saw what?” Jiho fights through the pain. “Y-you saw wrong.”

“Close your eyes,” you command, and Jiho adheres right away; not only does she close her eyes, but she also presses her face into the bed. You hear a muffled gasp from her when your spit-coated thumb traces the shape of her forbidden hole. “You really had to wait until we’re in a foreign land to stab me in the back, huh?” “I’m sorry,” you hear a faint response from her. “I don’t know if an apology is sufficient, to be completely honest,” you say, your tone laden with sadness and disappointment. “Anyway, here I go.”

Jiho clenches her fist as she prepares to give up her virginity. “I guess this is how I die,” she thinks. Tears begin swarming out of her eyes again as the second wave of guilt crashes over her heart. “I’m so sorry, my love; I don’t know why I hurt you—you’ve been the best husband I could ever ask for.” Her body goes limp when the tip of your cock begins pushing into her. “Take me, my love; make me yours again.”

Jiho lets out a long moan when she feels you in her pussy instead of her ass. “L-love?” You pet her butt gently. “I might be angry, but I’m no degenerate.” A small smile is drawn on her face; you never do anything in bed without her consent, and even though your head is full of anger (that’s justified), the fact that you’re still firmly holding on to your principle is touching, if not admirable. “Y-yes, of course—y-you’re a great husband for me.” Jiho’s heart flutters when she sees a smile on your face, oblivious to what kind of thoughts are running rampant inside your head. “Oh, you’re so clueless, sweetheart,” you say internally.

You maintain a pace that’s rather relaxed, basking in the intimate moment of what might be the last you’ll have with her. “D-do you remember our first night?” “Before or after the wedding?” “Oh, God, b-before.” You take a quick trip to memory lane; you had sex multiple times on your first night with her, doing it in different positions, including the one you’re currently in right now. “I did,” you answer, “you also took me from behind.” She nods. “E-exactly.”

You don’t know Jiho is mentioning the past, so you ask. “I-I just wish I could go back to that night—I swear w-we were so in love.” You chuckle a bit. “And we’re no longer in love? Is that why you cheated on me?” A stray tear flows onto her cheek. “P-please, I-I know it was so wrong of me.” You close your eyes, your hips fully stopped. “Hindsight is always perfect, isn’t it?” Jiho nods again. “I-I wish—” You silence her with a soft shush. “The past is the past, and there’s nothing else that can be done right now.”

A few more thrusts and you’re ready to bust. “I’m close,” you say, your tone flat thanks to the realization that this is the end of your story. “Feel free to finish anywhere.” You lodge your cock deep inside her when you explode, sending your load right into her womb. Usually, you’d praise her as you cum, but this time, your tongue feels heavy, thus making you unable to say anything.

You pull out when you’re done spurting everything out, and some excess semen drips out of her. “Some things just don’t change,” you think.

You grab your clothes that are making a mess on the floor, putting them on one by one, and the sight makes Jiho start crying again. “W-where are you going?” “Home,” you give her a short answer. “B-but isn’t this our home?” You sigh. “Not anymore, no.”

Jiho completely breaks down. It is clear to her now that everything is doomed; she has messed up the marriage, and now, you’re leaving the relationship that has been nurtured for years. “At least clue me how I can fix this, please,” she begs. You wipe some tears off her cheeks with your thumbs, comforting her as much as you can. “You can’t, sweetheart.” Jiho flinches; you used to call her by that name when the two of you were dating. “Sometimes, sweetheart, sometimes good things fall apart, and you just can’t fix them.”

Jiho pecks the back of your hand. “I’m so sorry, my love,” she says tearily, fully in regret. You peck her on the forehead the same way you did on your first date. “Promise me that you’ll be safe and happy wherever you are.” She nods. “Y-you too, oppa.”

The way she’s sobbing as you walk away from you wrests your heart terribly, but what else is there to be done?

“The world is so damn cruel sometimes, isn’t it?”

-

“Excuse me, sir, but unless you’re waiting for a flight, you need to leave.” You rub your eyes to get yourself together. “Oh, no, I’m not waiting for a flight—I’ll leave after this,” you say. The guard gives you a little nod before walking away.

You walk out of the airport while thinking about the next course of action. You still have money that should be enough to live off for about a month. “If I can get a basement apartment, the money will last longer,” you think. Still in the theme of making sure the money lasts as long as it can, you decide to just walk towards the city instead of getting a cab.

You reach the edge of urban civilization after around a few thousand steps. There is an apartment building not too far ahead, and you hope that it has a cheap vacant unit in the basement that you can occupy.

“Good evening,” you greet the lady at the front desk, “is there a basement unit here?” Much to your delight and relief, there is. “You’re in luck; there’s only one left,” she says. “I’ll take that right now, please,” you say, not bothering to think twice. “Please have a seat while I take care of some stuff.”

It is when your butt lands on the steel bench that you start thinking about Jiho again.

“I’m letting you go, sweetheart—make sure you’re safe and happy, okay?”

The relationship started with you “stealing” her from her abusive ex-boyfriend, but even then, she had never fooled around with anyone else behind his back, so in your mind, you don’t think that she had any reason to hurt you. “I guess this is how it was meant for us,” you conclude.

The front desk lady calls your name, so you quickly approach her. “This is your contract, and if you accept, please sign down here.” You take the paper from her and start reading, carefully taking mental notes about the important points in the contract as you go. One of them says that management doesn’t cover anything if the unit happens to get drowned during a flood. “That’s quite the risk,” you think, but it’s not like you have too many options.

You read the whole contract once again to make sure you’re not missing anything, and now you’re confident enough to sign it. “It’s time to pay now, isn’t it?” The lady nods with a smile and pulls out an EDC machine, so you hand your card to her. Shortly after that, you’re told that you can enter your unit with the key in her hand. “Thank you so much.”

A small wave of sadness washes over your heart when you see the interior that only has one twin-sized mattress lying on the floor and a small wardrobe—your previous unit was fully furnished. “Round two of rags to riches, I guess.”

The first thing you do is lie down, of course. It’s been a very long day with work and Jiho, and you just want to catch your breath. “I’m just going to chill.”

-

You’ve arrived at Son Industries to look for a chance to be hired again, feeling much better now that you have clean clothes on your body. The decorations haven’t changed too much in the past year—the big sofa in the lobby has changed, though; it used to be beige, but now it’s a brown one. “Has to be Miss Son’s doing,” you think.

In terms of personnel, the person attending the front desk is no longer Mr. Bang that you were close with, and you don’t recognize this new person. Nonetheless, you muster up the courage to approach the woman. “Hello, good morning,” you greet her, “is the company open to walk-in interviews?” She blinks rapidly, a mix of confusion and startlement drawn on her face. “Erm, let me check first.”

The way the woman is scratching her temple isn’t a good sign for you; it doesn’t look like they’re currently open for people to walk in and ask to be interviewed. “I’m sorry, but I don’t think we can accommodate you today.” You try your best to hide the sourness in your heart. “Ah, no worries; I shouldn’t have come without prior notice.” The woman asks for your contact information for future references, saying that the company will reach out to you should there be a job vacancy. Without wasting time, you write down your name, phone number, and email address on a piece of paper and hand it to her. “I can’t promise anything, though.” You nod. “No, no, it’s totally okay—thank you for the help!” You quickly part ways with her, smiling on your way out.

Your smile disappears when you reach the street again as nervousness begins filling your mind. The money you have won’t last too long at this point—you probably have around a week before you completely run out, and should that happen, you’ll be forced to live under a bridge or at a park somewhere.

You contemplate if you want to call Wendy right away but considering how long you’ve been away from her and who she is, she might have changed her number long ago. “This is a big city; surely there’s a chance for me somewhere,” you try to stay optimistic.

You take a lap around the central business district, and you happen to see a guy who’s busy sticking job vacancy pamphlets on light poles. You quickly cross the street to get to the pole and check out the pamphlet. You see that it’s from a record label startup companythat’s currently looking for both a chauffeur and a personal assistant for their newly appointed director. “Yeah, I can do that.”

You pull out your phone to check where the company is located, and you’re glad that it’s not too far away. You decide that you’re going to take the bus this time since you’ve had enough fun getting around the city on foot. Before that, though: “Mister, mister,” you chase him half running, “can I have one of that, please?” The guy nods and hands you one of the pamphlets. “Alright, thank you.”

Soon, you find yourself standing in front of an office building that’s smaller than the one Son Industries calls headquarters. Like before, you quickly enter and approach the front desk. “Excuse me, miss—I’m here for this,” you hold the pamphlet in the air for her to see. “Ah, of course,” she says, “chauffeur or assistant?” You’ve never been a chauffeur before, and as interesting as it sounds to change jobs, you’d rather play safe and become an assistant once more as you’re comfortable and confident in your experience and skills. “Assistant, please.”

The lady leaves her seat and asks you to follow her, and after a brief walk, you reach an empty room. “An interviewer will join you soon; please wait inside.” You thank her for the help and quickly settle in the room that only has some chairs and a desk. You’re experienced in being an assistant, so it’s odd that you’re nervous right now. “Man, what’s wrong with me,” you ask yourself.

Thankfully, salvation comes quickly in the form of two interviewers. “You must be our candidate,” the woman says, and you respond to her with a smile on your face. “I must say, mister, I’m quite giddy to see a candidate so soon.” You laugh a bit. “I am also quite giddy to get a job, miss.”

The two sit across the table from you. “My name is Shin Jimin, and this is Shin Sooin—can you introduce yourself a bit?” You nod. “My name is Jin Changmin, and I have decent experience under my belt after having worked for Son Industries for around 5 years.” Jimin beams. “Did you say Son Industries?” You nod again. “You know,” she starts, “I tried applying multiple times and could never make it past the interviews.” You chuckle. “Their HR could sometimes be… irritating.” The women laugh. “Sure, they are, mister.”

The interview doesn’t last too long. Because you’ve mentioned your experience working at Son Industries, which is well known in the eyes of the public, it convinces Jimin and Sooin that you’re the right hire. Also, at one point during the interview, it’s decided that the two women will start addressing you as oppa and you will address them casually from this point onwards.

“Oppa,” Sooin says, “are you free today, by any chance?” “You’re not inviting me to a date, are you,” you crack a little joke and are successful in making her laugh. “No, no, no; I’m just thinking that since you’re here, maybe you can start working for half a day—we’ll pay you accordingly, of course.” You nod. “I’m as free as it gets for an unemployed guy.”

Jimin excuses herself and has Sooin brief you on your tasks on your first (partial) day. “The director has a handful of things on his schedule today, so you’ll be following him around.” She hands you a tablet. “I didn’t see you carrying one, so use this, oppa.” You notice that it’s a newer model from the same brand you used to use when working under Wendy. “Alright, I’ll take you to the boss right now.”

Sooin takes you upstairs and knocks on the door for you. “Boss, he’s here.” “Yes, let him in, please,” you hear a woman’s voice from the other side, and the door swings open for you.

“Good—” Your speech is interrupted when you see who the boss is, your eyes wide open because of the shock. “I-is that—” “Leave us, Sooin-ah.” Sooin closes the door behind you, and you can hear her steps fading away. “I-I, erm,” you find it hard to speak right now.

The boss leaves her seat and approaches you, the sound of her heels deafening. “Hi, good morning—is it afternoon yet, actually?” You stay silent, trying your hardest to stay composed and professional. “Took you so long to get here; did you get lost in the way?” You respond by nodding. “Well, at least, you’re here now.”

The boss wraps her arms around your body, sharing her warmth with you. “Welcome back, oppa.” You garner your courage to hug her back. “M-Miss Son,” you say almost in a whisper. You hear a chuckle from her. “You still remember my name, huh?” You nod. “How can I ever forget about you?”

Wendy pulls away from the embrace, and that’s when you see her glassy eyes. “How long have you been away from me, oppa?” “A little over a year,” you answer. “That’s too long, don’t you think?” You nod slightly. “I-I’m sorry.” She shakes her head. “Well, at least you’re here now.”

Wendy invites you to sit on the sofa in her office. “I feel like you have so much to tell me, but I have a lot of work today.” You take a deep breath to clear your mind. “I’m here for you, Miss Son.” She chuckles. “Yeah, and I’m not letting you go ever again, just so we’re clear.”

Wendy returns to her big director chair. “Come here, please; let’s talk about your tasks.” You quickly stand up and sit in front of her for your briefing. “Yes, Miss Son.” Wendy is getting goosebumps; she hasn’t had anyone who is as ready as you are when it comes to work, and she’s struggling to keep a straight face. “Oh my God, I’ve missed this,” she thinks.

-

“Do you mind driving?” You take the key from her and notice that it’s different. “New car, Miss Son?” She sighs. “I totaled the Genesis.” Your eyebrows furrow involuntarily. “You did what?” “Look, I was sleepy, alright—I wasn’t under any influence.” You don’t continue the subject, opting to get in the car and turn it on instead so you can take her to her destination.

You open the back seat door for her, but she declines; she says she’ll sit next to you. “I want to… y’know, be close to you.” You pretend like you don’t notice the subtle blush on her cheeks and simply help her get in the car. “Are we ready, Miss Son?” She nods, her face decorated with a smile. “Yes, we are.”

It is when you’re stopped at a red light that Wendy initiates a conversation. “Oppa, can you share a bit of your story?” You sigh heavily. “I suppose,” you start, “Jiho cheated on me, Miss Son, so I left her.” Wendy falls silent, not expecting such an answer from you. “I caught her having sex with some stranger she claimed she had met the previous night,” you pile on, and you can see on the edge of your vision that Wendy’s face has turned sour. “I’ve moved on now, so don’t worry about my performance at work.”

“She never deserved you.”

You turn your head to look at her. “Excuse me?”

“She never deserved you; I’ve always had a feeling that you were too good for her, oppa.”

You don’t know if you’re offended or not; at one point in your life, Jiho was the best partner you could’ve ever asked for, and a part of you is still hanging on to that, hoping that she’s still the same person you fell in love with, even though you’ve parted ways with her.

“Miss Son, please don’t talk about her like that.”

“Am I wrong, though?”

You exhale deeply. “Miss Son, please.”

“Ugh, fine—forget I said anything.”

“What about you, Miss Son,” you try changing the subject, “did you leave Son Industries?” “Yes and no,” she says, “I’m trying to establish a record label as a subsidiary, but I’ve left my post at Son Industries.” You nod. “I assume you’ve left your old assistant to work under the new director of Son Industries?” Wendy shakes her head. “I never hired another assistant after you left, so whoever is replacing me must bring their own right-hand.”

You see an opportunity to make a joke and lighten the mood a bit. “You learned how to be independent, didn’t you?” Wendy smacks you on the shoulder. “Just so you know, it was so damn rough; I realized I had been relying on you too much.”

-

“Miss Son, we’re here,” you tap her forearm to wake her up, and after a moment of grunting and yawning, she’s awake. “Can I ask what we’re doing here, Miss Son?” “This is—” A yawn interrupts her. “This is a dance studio, and we’re here to look at some trainees.”

You help her get out of the car, and Wendy promptly wraps an arm around yours. “Let’s go find some recruits,” she says, her voice laden with excitement.

There are a man and a woman walking out of the building to greet the two of you. “Miss Son, this way, please; the trainees are waiting for you,” the man says. “They’re skipping school, Mr. Jo?” He chuckles nervously. “Erm, sort of—they said they want to maximize their chances to be recruited, so some skipped school and some others called in sick.”

You and co. enter a practice room that’s filled with a bunch of teenage girls. They greet you repeatedly, and you make sure to reply to each one properly. Based on their sweat-drenched forehead and clothes, you can tell that they’ve been practicing a lot prior to your arrival.

“Girls, this is your future boss, Miss Wendy Son from Son Media Group.” Wendy waves at them, showing kindness so that they don’t get more nervous or scared than they already are. “Miss Son, they’ve prepared a performance for you—please kindly watch them perform.”

You take a seat in front of the girls with Wendy next to you. You notice that each trainee is wearing a name tag, so you quickly write them down on your tablet since she will likely want you to make notes based on her assessments.

Wendy starts getting excited when the song starts playing over the speakers. “She must know this song,” you guess. As time goes by, she keeps making these expressions that you don’t know the meaning of—you can tell that she’s enjoying the moment, though.

Your attention is stolen when Wendy taps your arm repeatedly. “Pay attention,” she whispers to you, so you lock in to the performance.

You push and pull me like gravity

I fall for you, every part of me

You push and pull me like gravity

Insanity

I’m losing my mind

Wendy squeezes your arm, her face bright and beaming, visibly impressed by the performance she’s watching. You look at her from the side, admiring her passion and ever-positive attitude for everything that’s in front of her. “By God, I’ve missed this, Miss Son.”

The cover soon ends, leaving Wendy in awe. You, on the other hand, are not too well-versed in music, but you still clap along with her. “I have good feelings about these girls,” she whispers to you. “I believe your judgment, Miss Son.” She pinches your arm lightly. “You’re such an enabler, aren’t you?” You chuckle. “I mean, it’s not like you’ve dragged us down a pit, is it?”

The guy running the studio asks for Wendy’s attention, but she dismisses him (gently and politely), opting to speak to the girls right away instead. “So, girls,” she begins, “how bad do you want this?” The question has the girls looking at each other in confusion, and it takes a while until one of them dares lift her hand. “I, erm, I want it so bad, miss, b-but I don’t know if I’m good enough.” Wendy smiles, kindness exuding from her face. “If I remember correctly, you did the low register during the chorus, didn’t you?” The girl nods to Wendy’s question. “I personally think you did very well, so don’t sell yourself short like that, especially if you want to debut as an idol.”

The girl looks down to hide her shy grin, and that’s when Wendy shifts her attention to the rest of the trainees. She asks each girl a simple question, nodding to their answers no matter how good or bad they are. “You all need PR training,” she makes a little joke and is met with nervous laughter. “Anyway,” Wendy leaves her seat, “I’ll get going now; I have some other places I need to visit, and I’ll be in touch very soon.”

It's starting to rain quite heavily when you step outside the studio. “C’mon, quick,” Wendy rushes towards the car, so you quickly follow her. “Where do we go now, Miss Son?” “I wanted to grab something to eat, but I guess not—let’s head back to the office for now.”

The rain gets even heavier as you drive through the city, water hitting the roof of your car like punches from the grey skies. “Rain sounds scary sometimes, doesn’t it?” You sigh nervously. “It doesn’t help that I live in an underground apartment.” Wendy furrows her eyebrows. “You do? Why?” “Because I wanted to save money,” you answer plainly. “Yeah, well, you’re going to leave that apartment after this.”

The radio stops its usual broadcast to make room for an emergency announcement. It says that residents should watch out for flash floods considering the suddenness and volume of the rain. You inhale and exhale deeply as you try to stay focused. “I can hear that, you know.” You don’t respond, too busy trying to keep calm and collected. “Oppa, did you hear me?” “Oh, yeah, yeah,” you blurt, “just a bit, erm, nervous.”

Wendy looks at you from the side. “What valuables do you keep at your apartment?” You list the items for her: your passport, cash, important documents, and lastly but definitely as important, clothes. You’d have nothing to wear if they were damaged by a flood, and that would be bad on its own. “Let’s go save your stuff.” “You don’t mind taking a detour?” You ask to make sure, and your assurance comes in the form of her insisting. “Yeah, okay.”

Instead of going straight at the intersection, you make a right turn to head to your apartment. “Don’t kill us,” Wendy warns, getting nervous just by the way you’re zipping through traffic. “Don’t worry, Miss Son,” you assure her. Wendy tightens her grip on the grab handle, not convinced with your words.

You stop on the side of the road and jump out of the car right after it’s stopped. “Oppa, wait!” You hear her, but you ignore her; your mind is focused on saving your valuables from your underground apartment that’s about to drown.

You get nervous when you reach the underground floor that is filled with water as high as your calves. “Oh, hell, no.” You step through the water and stop in front of your unit. After fishing the key out of your back pocket, you push the door open, fighting the force of nature.

The wardrobe is your first destination. You keep your clothes on the top shelves, so they’re not wet in the slightest. “Just grab what you can!” You’re surprised to see that Wendy is also down here with you. “This first!” You pass a small laptop bag that’s full of personal documents over to her before grabbing your clothes and pants. “Let’s get out,” she urges, so you follow her back upstairs to street level.

You shove your belongings into the second row of the car, not worrying about whether the clothes are wrinkled or not; the fact that they’re not drowned is good enough for you. “Goodness me,” Wendy says breathily, “say, how long have you been living there?” “A-about a year,” you reply just as breathily. “You’re not going to live in such a place ever again.” You nod. “I hope so.”

You stay in the car with Wendy until the pants stop. “Drive,” she says. “Where to?” “Just fucking drive, will you?” She doesn’t use profanities very often, and truthfully, you’re surprised and concerned, but that doesn’t stop you from following her orders. “Of course.”

Wendy pulls out her phone and gets on a call with someone. “It’s time—prepare the haven,” she says. The person on the other side of the call must know what to do as the call takes but a few seconds. Oddly enough, you hear the person congratulate Wendy right before she hangs up. “The haven, Miss Son?” She lets out a deep exhale. “You heard me,” she says, “now follow this route.” You see that the car’s head unit has been updated; you’re currently 21 minutes away from your destination. “Yes, Miss Son.”

-

The GPS says that your destination is on your left, and when you look out the window, it’s a typical high-rise apartment building. “We’re here, Miss Son” you notify her. “Yeah, I can see that,” she replies uncharacteristically. “Let’s get out.” She grabs an umbrella from the glovebox and hands it to you, so like a proper chauffeur, you step out of the car and hold the black umbrella for her outside of her door. “

You walk with her into the building, only putting down the umbrella when you’re covered by the big canopy. “Miss Son,” a woman at the front desk greets her, “the haven is ready for use.” Wendy simply puts up a thumb and walks fast towards the elevator, and you make sure that you’re following closely behind her.

Instead of pressing a button to head to a certain level, Wendy places her thumb on the little scanner. “Miss Son, would you kindly elaborate?” She glares at you. “Just shut the fuck up, please.” You gulp to swallow the unease that’s stuck in your throat. “Y-yes, madam.” You keep an eye on the level indicator above the elevator doors as it takes you upstairs beyond the listed floors.

The doors soon slide open, and you find yourself standing in front of a brown door. You want to ask what all of this means, but before you can open your mouth, you’re reminded that she has told you to “shut the fuck up” a minute ago. “Follow me,” she says, so you do just that. Once again, she places her thumb on the scanner below the door handle, and you hear the door unlock. “Follow me,” she says once more as she pushes the door open.

You involuntarily let out a wow; in front of your eyes is a big, fancy penthouse that has everything anyone could possibly need. A full-size kitchen, check; a living room with big sofas and a wallpaper TV, check; a chandelier that costs more than your net worth, check.

“Erm, Miss Son, if I may?” Wendy shakes her head. “Take a seat first,” she says, so you sit down on one of the big armchairs. Once the two of you are ready to talk, you initiate a conversation again. “Miss Son, what is this place, if you don’t mind me asking?”

She smiles a little.

“This is our home.”

You want to shove your fist into your ears and expand them just so you can be sure that you didn’t hear her wrong.

“Pardon me?”

“This is our home, oppa; this is the haven I spoke about.”

You blink, and blink, and blink, and blink—you’re highly unsure if you’re understanding this correctly.

“W-what do you mean this is our home?”

Wendy leaves her seat, opting to make herself comfortable on your lap instead. “From this hour, this minute, and this second, you belong to me, and I belong to you.” “M-Miss Son—” “You’re not tied to that Jiho bitch anymore, but we are tied together.” “M-Miss Son, I—”

A hard slap lands square on your cheek, the sound of the impact echoing throughout the penthouse. “I-I hate—” Wendy starts breaking down. “I-I hate that you left this country f-for that good-for-nothing bitch; I-I hate that you fucking left me, oppa.” You instinctively run your hand along her back softly the same way you used to do it with Jiho whenever she was feeling terrible. “Y-you could’ve stayed here, oppa—fuck, you could’ve married me instead.”

You take a few deep breaths to clear your mind and get a grip on the situation. “Wendy,” you say in a very, very soft tone, “what are you talking about right now?” Still unable to stop crying, Wendy presses her face onto your chest, possibly soaking your only white shirt with her tears. “I-I love you, oppa—I’ve loved you for as long as I’ve known you, b-but… but you loved her.”

You pull her into a tight hug while tears continue to flow out her eyes, and it’s getting really hard to stay solid. You keep rubbing her back mindlessly because your mind is busy imagining what things could’ve been like had you understood her feelings—you could’ve saved yourself from the heartbreak that was catching Jiho cheating.

Wendy lets out a gasp when you lift her by her thighs. “W-what are you doing?” “We’re going to talk, but we’ll get comfortable first.” She hides her face in your chest again after getting an answer. “Okay.”

You let out a chuckle when you see the insides of the bedroom. “I forget how rich you are sometimes.” You hear a small chuckle from the woman in your arms. “I wanted a proper space for us.” “Oh, it’s proper, alright.”

You take a seat on the edge of the bed, and you swear Wendy just let out a purr. “Are you comfortable, love?” She shifts around to make sure she’s as close as she can be to you; her hands are on your nape, and her legs that are locked around your body complete the embrace. “Yes, I am.” “Great,” you reply, “well, here I go.”

Wise men say

Only fools rush in

But I can’t help

Falling in love with you

Confusion is drawn clearly on Wendy’s face, not expecting in the slightest that you’ll sing for her. “What the hell,” she mouths inaudibly.

Shall I stay

Would it be a sin

If I can’t help

Falling in love with you

“Continue,” she mouths once again.

Like a river flows

Surely to the sea

Darling, so it goes

Some things are meant to be

You pause for a moment; to prepare for the next part of the song, you take her hands in yours to capture the emotions.

Take my hand

Take my whole life too

For I can’t help

Falling in love with you

“Goodness me,” Wendy wipes her tears with a smile on her face, “I-I didn’t know you could sing this well.” You chuckle a little. “That’s the only song I can sing.” She laughs. “I fear the man who has practiced one kick ten thousand times, or so they say,” she replies.

Wendy looks at you with a beautiful smile drawn on her face. “Yes, love?” She points at something over her shoulder. “You see that?” You look at what her thumb is pointed at—it’s a mug with random gold seams all over it. “What about it?” “I destroyed that mug after reading your letter, so I sent it to a kintsugi artist and had it repaired.”

You sigh. “Did I hurt you with that letter?” She nods. “It hurt so bad, you know.” You apologize, but she declines. “You promised you’d return, and now you’re here, so it’s all good.” Your gaze lands on the mug with gold stripes again, a manifestation of her mended heart. “I’m here to stay, love, and I hope you are too.” Wendy gives you a peck on the side of your neck. “This is what I’ve been hoping for; I’m not letting this go easily.”

The two of you keep your gazes locked on each other’s. “Help,” she says, “I need a segue.” You chuckle. “Segue to what, love?” “To you taking my flower.” Your eyebrows rise. “Your… flower?” She pinches your cheek. “Don’t play dumb; you know what I’m talking about.” You gently guide her hand off your face. “I just didn’t know you’ve never done it before.” Wendy shrugs. “You never asked, so I never said anything.” You take your turn to pinch her cheek. “You’re my boss—how could I ever ask about such a thing, hm?” A fleeting kiss lands on your lips. “I’m no longer your boss, oppa; from today, you’re my, erm, boyfriend.” You notice the way her cheeks are turning red. “I don’t mean to rush, but I have a feeling that we’ll be more than that.” A sheepish smile appears on her face. “I-I’ll hold you to that.”

You help Wendy lie down in the middle of this huge bed. “Oppa,” she calls to you, “you’re mine, aren’t you?” You answer her by pecking her on the lips. “But I want to hear you say it.” You smile. “My heart belongs to you, but legally, I’m still married to Jiho.” Her face turns sour. “I don’t want to hear that name.” You slap yourself internally for being careless with your words. “Sorry, love,” you clear your throat, “yes, I’m yours.”

Her face is adorned with a beautiful smile.

“Then take me.”

You reach for the first button on her shirt, and that’s when you notice her fast breaths. “You’re nervous, aren’t you, love?” She nods wordlessly. “I promise I’ll be nice and gentle,” you assure her. Wendy holds your wrists as a gesture of calling a timeout. “Y-you’ll be my first and my last, so please take care of me.” You assure her once more that you’ll prioritize her over yourself before continuing to undo her buttons.

The sight of Wendy’s partially naked being has you breathing rapidly. “You look very good, love” you praise her. She looks away to hide her shyness. “I-I try to stay in good shape—y’know, just in case.” You see an opportunity to mess with her a bit. “Just in case what, sweetheart? Just in case you want to do it with some rich executive?” Wendy lets out a gasp, seemingly offended. “I’m not cheap,” she says. “I know, sweetheart; I was just messing with you.”

The last button of her one-piece dress is finally undone. “Help me take it off, oppa,” she says, so you hold the end of the dress and lift upwards until she’s free. Wendy instinctively covers her breasts and crotch, not used to being exposed in front of a man. “You’ve really never done this before, have you?” She shakes her head, her cheeks painted bright red. “T-this is embarrassing.” You gently pull her arms away and set them on the bed. “You have nothing to be embarrassed for, love.” Wendy still avoids eye contact. “I-i-it’s your turn to u-undress.”

You swiftly take off your shirt, opting to just pull it over your head instead of spending too much time undoing the buttons.

“Look at me, sweetheart.” Her gaze slowly shifts to meet yours. “Y-yes?” “Do you want to take off my pants?” Wendy looks at you nervously. “Erm, I don’t know—should I?” You say that she should only do it if she wants to. Wendy says she wants to try, so you guide her hands towards your belt. “Don’t worry, I’ll cooperate,” you say.

Wendy undoes your belt and follows it up by sliding your zipper downwards. It so happens that the back of her hand touches the underside of your hard-but-constrained cock. “Oh, that’s… erm, hard.” Her candid comment forces a laugh out of you. “And it’s all yours, love.”

You take off your pants so that Wendy has access to your boxers, and without thinking too much, she pulls them down. “Oh my God,” she exclaims, “t-that looks like it’s going to hurt.” You nod. “It will, but we’ll get through it together, love.”

You ask if you can take off Wendy’s panties, and only when you’re given permission that you slide them off. “I-I’ll shave for you next time.” “Oh, don’t worry about it; you’re pretty like this.” “What are you—oh, God, fuck!” Wendy grips the sheets in shock when your finger lands on her nub. “Next time, tell me what you’re about to do, okay?” You chuckle. “Sorry, I forgot you’re inexperienced.”

You make sure you’re right on top of Wendy, shifting here and there to get comfortable. “Love,” you call to her, “are you—” “Yes, I’m ready.” The way she answers before you finish asking tells you that not only is she ready, but she is also eager. “Alright, let’s do it, then.”

Wendy inhales sharply when the tip of your cock touches her sealed entrance. “Wait, wait, wait,” she panics, “c-can I be on top?” From experience, you know that it’s better for a woman to be on top first since she’ll be able to go at it at her own pace. “Of course, love.”

You swap positions with her, lying down on the bed to give her the chance to ride you, and Wendy immediately moves to sit on your lap. “Be careful, love.” She simply nods to your advice as her eyes are locked on your cock that’s pointed straight at the ceiling. “That’s definitely not intimidating at all—that’s a source of pleasure,” she consoles herself.

Wendy plants her hands on your stomach as she aims your cock at her entrance. Her hips slowly descend until the tip pokes her innocence. “T-that’s good, right?” You nod. “You’re alright, baby; take your time.”

Wendy grits her teeth as her pussy is getting stretched by a penis for the very first time. You place your hands on her hips, ready to guide her should she need it. “You’re alright, love,” you repeat. Fueled by your encouragement, she continues making her way down.

“Fuck!”

A curse flies out of her lips, and when you look down, there’s blood dripping down your shaft—dear God, she’s so, so tight, too. Up top, tears are dropping down her plump cheeks, visibly in pain and discomfort. “It hurts, it hurts,” she repeats with shaky voice. “My love, my love,” you call to her, “let me hold you, please.” Wendy lies down on your body, and the sobs become clearer for you to hear. “You’re okay, love; you’re doing so, so well right now.” She nods, her cheek rubbing against yours. “Y-you’re my first, oppa.” You peck her on the cheek. “And you’re my last, my love.”

You’ve been letting Wendy stay in your arms for the past few minutes. “Does it still hurt?” You hear a sniffle from her. “N-not really,” she says, “I-I think it’s starting to feel better.” You try moving your hips upwards, and it relieves you when she lets out a moan. “Was that good?” “Yes,” she replies. You thrust upwards once again, and Wendy lets out another moan. “I-I’m so full, oppa.” It’s a simple comment made in the heat of the moment, but nonetheless, it bloats your ego as proven by your little smirk. “I’m glad I can satisfy you, love.”

You maintain this relaxed pace, your ears filled with her soft moans. “That’s good, isn’t it, love?” “I-it is,” she says. “Do you think you can move by yourself?” “M-maybe.” You help Wendy straighten her posture, and the first thing she looks at is the way you and her are connected. “S-so much blood,” she comments. Your hand reaches towards her face, stroking her cheek softly. “I’m honored to be your first, love.” Wendy smiles amidst the discomfort that’s gradually becoming tolerable. “And I’m happy that you’re my first, because I love you so much.”

With her palms planted on your stomach, Wendy lifts her butt before dropping down again. “Oh, fuck, so big,” she blurts. It is when she picks up the pace that you let go of the controls, letting your head sink into the big pillow. “You’re so tight, love,” you say with your eyes closed, your eyelids too heavy to open. “M-must be the kegel,” she replies. You chuckle. “Perhaps.”

It appears that Wendy has gotten used to having a cock in her judging by how assertive she is now. One thing, though: she looks to be tired and out of breath. You ask if she wants to change position, and she immediately says yes. “Lie down, sweetheart; let me take over.”

With her lying down, you’re now able to look at her freshly deflowered pussy; there’s blood everywhere—some of it even splattered on the insides of her thighs. “I wasn’t even Jiho’s first,” you think. You quickly throw that thought away; this is the least appropriate time to think about anyone else but Wendy.

 You take position between her legs, your face hovering closely over hers. “Hi, oppa,” she greets you with a smile. “Hi to you too, my love—having a good time?” She laughs. “I am, now that it doesn’t hurt too much.” You give her a peck on the lips. “Shall we keep going?” She nods, and you waste little time to enter her pussy again. “Oh, yes, just like that.”

Now that you’re on top, you’re able to kiss her as your cock moves in and out of her tightness. “I love you, Wendy.” She shakes her head. “W-Wendy is for work—to you, I’m Seungwan-ie.” As far as you know, there are only a handful of people who have the right to call her by that name, and you’re honored to be one of them. “Of course, love.”

You’ve been maintaining this tempo for a solid period of time, and you can sense that your orgasm is approaching fast. “Love, I won’t last long,” you announce. Wendy responds by nodding. “Make me yours, oppa.” You ask if you can turn up the speed on this final stretch, and Wendy gives you permission to do so.

With every thrust she’s taking, Wendy lets out moans that are like music to your ears. “I love you so much,” you say. “I-I love you too,” she replies. You can feel yourself throbbing in her pussy, so you announce once more that you’re about to finish. “Y-yes, g-give it to me,” she urges.

Right before you start spurting semen into her, you come in for a kiss, aiming to maximize the feelings aspect on her first time. You let out a small grunt into the kiss as semen begins flowing out of your cock and into her pussy. On the other hand, Wendy lets out a long moan. “S-so warm,” she comments. Once every last drop of your cum leaves your cock, you gently pull out of her.

-

You fell asleep at one point during the cuddle, only waking up because Wendy kept tapping your arm. “Was it that good that you fell asleep?” You chuckle. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to leave you alone like that.” Wendy giggles. “You really enjoyed taking my flower, huh?” You give her a peck on the cheek. “Of course.”

You ask if Wendy wants to get cleaned up, and since she says yes, you take her in your arms so that you can help her clean up in the bathroom.

“Where’s the bathroom, by the way?” She points at a closed door next to the bed. “Oh, I thought that was a walk-in closet or something like that.” She slaps you on the chest. “What closet have you seen has a mat in front of it?” You shrug. “I mean, I wouldn’t know, would I?”

You help her take a seat on the toilet since she says she wants to pee. Wendy’s face contorts as she pees, visibly in discomfort. “That hurts, doesn’t it, baby?” She sighs. “It feels weird—it’s like there’s a big hole between my legs.” You offer her some assurance, adding touches for good measure. “Thank you, oppa, seriously.” You put on a gentle smile. “Thank you to you as well, love.”

You guide her towards the shower to continue the process. You take some water in your hand and rub her pussy softly, thus getting some blood on your hand. “That will stop soon, right?” You can hear the concern in her voice. “Yes, it will—don’t worry, though; I’m with you every step of the way.”

You continue to the next step, which is to help her take a bath. “Turn around and place your hands on the wall, please.” Wendy does as you ask, and when you’re busy getting liquid soap on your hands, she teases you by hitting your cock with her butt. “I want to take you like this next time, oppa,” she already has plans for the next session. You laugh. “We’ll see what we can do, love.”

-

You’re lying on your back in this comfortable bed with Wendy in your arms, hugging you from the side. “What is in that head of yours, oppa?” You quickly assemble an answer for her. “To say that I’m happy is a huge understatement, but I am indeed happy.” Wendy gives you a peck on the side of your neck. “If only I could string together words to express my feelings,” she replies. You peck her on the top of her head. “You don’t have to, love; I can feel your love just like this.”

Wendy asks if you can describe what her love feels like. “I don’t care if this sounds cheesy, but it feels like warm sunlight in the morning; it’s so comforting, and it tells you that everything is going to be okay.” She giggles. “Everything is indeed going to be okay, oppa; we’re going to conquer the world together.”

You spoon her when she turns around. “Look at the moon, oppa” she points out the window. “It’s beautiful, isn’t it—imagine sitting in the riverside under this moon.” She sighs deeply. “I haven’t had time to enjoy life, and now that you’re here with me, I think this is a good time to start.” You rub her belly softly. “We’re going to have a good life together, love, so God help me.”

Wendy turns her head to look at you. “Hey, uh, can we do another round?” You burst out laughing. “Yes, but let’s rest for now; you just had your first time.” She pouts. “But I want to do it again.”

You make use of the fact that the two of you are completely naked and plunge into her from behind, thus earning a moan from her. “Oh, yeah, just like that, oppa.” You thrust into her once and get another moan. “Keep going, please,” she urges. “Round two, then?” She nods enthusiastically. “After this, we’re going to do another round.” You chuckle. “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves, baby.”

[xoxoavenger]

The Devil You Forgot

pairing: Dean Winchester x Fem!Reader

summary: Y/N gets captured by a group of demons with a strange pattern.

word count: 2506

warnings: canon typical injuries, low-grade torture (like punching and non-graphic knife stuff)

a new player has entered the ring. welcome to the party, Dean Winchester

masterlist

"It's almost like you don't think I can handle myself."

"You know that's not true."

"Okay, then let me go."

"Y/N,"

"Dean," Y/N took a deep breath, hoping she wouldn't hurt her boyfriend in the next couple seconds. "Babe, it's just food. I think I can pull it off." Dean breathed through his nose and pulled his lips in, and she knew this wasn't the last of their argument.

"You don't understand. These are-"

"Demons?" She cuts him off, wanting to slap him. "You mean the same creatures I've killed multiple of? By myself? Or is there a new breed that I'm unaware of?" She steps forward, and Dean takes a step back. He's been slapped by her before, he knows when he's crossed a line.

"I just want you to be safe, that's all." He says with his hands up. She rolls her eyes, grabs her Glock loaded with the demon-trap bullets she carved herself, and walks out.

"Oh man, you really handled that well." Sam says from his spot on his bed, computer in his lap. Dean lifts his head up and looked at the ceiling, wondering why his girlfriend was so hellbent on going to the diner alone. She doesn't need to, they could use this as some alone time, but no, God forbid Dean ever gets any alone time with her.

"These demons are just smart, is all. Smarter than the ones we usually fight. It'd be better to go in pairs." Dean tells his brother, who just shakes his head as he goes back to tapping away on his computer. They were trying to figure out why the demons would be here, in the middle of nowhere, Texas. So far, Sam didn't have any leads at all, but it wasn't like Dean was helping.

"She'll be fine, you know her. She's great at this stuff." Sam offhandedly said. Dean knows he's right, and that's what makes him upset.

"I know, but why would she not want me to come with?" Dean asks, shucking off his jacket and sitting on his bed. He puts his head in his hands, not sure what to do alone.

"Holy shit," Sam says, causing Dean to look over. His brother is staring at the laptop, concern etched on his face.

"What? What did you find?" Dean moves over, wanting to see the action.

"I'm comparing all the victims," Sam starts, grabbing some papers of the missing and murdered people. "I mean, we knew they were all women, but I just found this article about Fatima, and apparently her boyfriend had just asked her dad for permission."

"Permission for what?" Dean asked, and Sam almost hit him for the stupid question.

"To marry her, dumbass." Sam said, and Dean just blinks. "And when we went to the Kapnen's house, Loreli's sister said that her boyfriend was planning on proposing. Had the ring and everything."

"Fuck," Dean mutters, getting off the bed. He's in a daze as he begins to grab his jacket.

"But why are the demons taking women who are about to be engaged? How would they even know?" Sam is still looking through the town's papers online, trying to see if there was anything about the third missing woman.

"We have to find Y/N." Dean growls, emotion threatening to crawl up his throat. He's pulling it back, making sure to bottle that shit up for another time; this is something he's usually great at, but right now he's having trouble forcing the emotion down.

"What? Why? I just told you that the demons are going after women who are about to be engaged." Now Sam's the one who's about to be slapped, and he feels sick as he realizes what Dean is about to say just before he says it. His eyes go wide, even before his brother turns around. 

"Sam, Y/N is about to be engaged." Dean holds up a box he's been carrying around for approximately half a year, on the inside pocket of his jacket so Y/N couldn't feel it.

"Shit."

~

Y/N's not quite sure how the demons got the up on her, but she's now in some dingy warehouse basement with a bag over her head. She owes Dean a big apology and probably some sort of makeup-food-sex that she's been denying him for about a year.

They take the bag off and it scratches her face. Her hands are tied behind her back, her legs tied to the legs of the chair. Her mouth has also been bound, and she thinks the demons expected her to have been crying. But she stares at them angrily, blinking as they all furrow their eyebrows.

One of them slaps her, hard, and she keeps her head turned that way so they don't see the tears brimming. She will not cry in front of these demons, even if the moisture in her eyes is soley from the shock of nerves on her face.

"Feisty one, she is." One of them growls, and she smirks through the mouth binding as she turns back to them.

"Let's see if that mouth has the same attitude?" Another demon says, and she accidentally winces as they roughly rip the gag from her jaw. She cocks her head as she rights herself, wishing she could brush the hair out of her face.

"Why so quiet, honey?" Another demon smirks, grabbing her face. She looks around and realizes they're all men, which is a little weird for demons. They usually come in different genders, but she doesn't have time to think about why. She goes back to staring at the man holding her, maintaining eye contact. "What, you don't have anything to say?"

"You haven't asked me anything, dumbass." She grunts out, ripping her face from him. He just leans back as his friends seem to think that was at least a little funny, if the smiles on their faces are anything to go by.

"We don't need to ask anything, sweetheart." A demon said, and she just frowned sarcastically.

"Right, okay." She nods, laughing just to piss them all off. "Then what am I here for? Is it because you want him to come here? Because believe me, this little trap wouldn't have fooled him even when he was a teenager. So I'm gonna give you the chance to untie me and maybe he'll let you live. But even then, I honestly don't know that he will." They all stare at her, before one starts laughing and sets them all into a bought of laughter. She just blinks, not sure what they're laughing at. Is this not a trap? They have to know who Dean is, what he'll do to them.

"You stupid bitch." One of them laughs, and then he flicks a knife open. She lets her eyes widen a little bit, but besides that she doesn't move, not wanting to give anything away. She can't help the whimper that escapes when he snatches her jaw, squeezing too hard and pulling her head to the side so that her neck is exposed. The horrible thought creeps in that they're going to slit her throat, and she can't even wiggle out of these stupid cords around her wrists because her legs are still tied to metal and she would just be dead before she could take a step.

The blade slices across her collarbone, and she grits her teeth. She will not scream, she refuses to, but she lets out a grunt of pain. Her breathing is more like a wheeze through her teeth, and she doesn't even notice that they've finished slicing into her until the demon lets her head go. She lets it drop and then picks it up immediately, taking in a deep breath and looking at the other demons, forcing herself to smile.

"What're you smilin' about, darlin'?" Another one asks, and she doesn't let herself falter even as the cut burns her skin and the blood drips down her chest.

"You either want something from me, or you like playing with your food." She says. She's just stalling until Dean gets there, which should be soon knowing her boyfriend. "Which is fine, I'm not kink shaming you. But come on, it's like you don't know who I am." This earns her a hard punch to the face, one that leaves her seeing stars. She's pretty sure she blacks out for a moment, neck stretching and causing her cut to pull open more. She hisses, keeping everything else inside. She doesn't breathe until she can feel her face again, pain radiating through her eye socket and cheek bone.

"How's that for playing with food?" A demon asks, but this time before she can respond she's being hit again by another demon.

"Got a leftie. Helpful, don't ya think?" He says, and Y/N can feel the blood on her cheek as she hits the cut on her chest with her chin. She yelps, but tries to laugh it off.

Dean will be here soon. He's gotta be close.

"What's so goddamn funny?" One of them asks, and she just shakes her head as much as she can.

"He's gonna kill you." She tries to take pleasure through the pain, but someone with a bunch of fucking rings decides to hit her and she whimpers in pain. She can't scream, can't let them have it.

"Who is?" One of them chuckles - the one with the knife. She looks at the knife for only a moment before she looks back at the monster's face. "Your fiancé?" They all laugh, and she would crinkle her eyes in confusion if one weren't swollen shut.

"He isn't my fiancé," She says first, not sure why she feels the need to tell the demons of all creatures. She's about to tell them just who she's dating when they all start laughing like she said the funniest joke ever.

"Not yet, isn't that right?" One yells to the others, who continue their laughter. He turns to her, sighing and wiping his tears away. He leans against the back of Y/N's chair, knife pressing into her left cheek. She breathes in through her teeth as she tenses, feeling the knife break the skin. "You boyfriend hasn't popped the question. But he's had that damn thing for - how long did you say it was, Kaleb?" He turns back, and a demon on the side has a face red with laughter.

"Seven months!" He screams, and Y/N forgets about the pain for a moment. She looks at them all, not sure if they're telling the truth or not. She would have noticed, right? With the amount of hotels they're in and out of and the fact that they have shared a bed for years now. She would have noticed at the bunker, because they share a room, and she's sure there's not a hiding place she doesn't know of. She doesn't remember what it's like to sleep on her own, and Dean doesn't sleep in sweatpants. So where was he keeping it? If, of course, he actually had it. Because demons lie.

And it's not like she was expecting Dean to ask. She knows he wants it - the whole American Dream, Nuclear Family shit - but he hasn't talked about it, so she assumed he wasn't ready. She knew he didn't want a family while he was hunting, which may mean never, but she also knows that Dean wants to be with her forever. So yeah, she thought about it, but she didn't want to push him.

"You're lying." She chuckled, face hurting as it scrunched. "You must have the wrong man. His name is Dean Winchester, may have heard of him?" Where is he?

"Wait," The demon in front of her pauses, and she's a little confused why they're not laughing anymore. Did they actually have the wrong man? The demon turns to one other demon in particular, who looks like he's about to piss his pants. "The man you've been watching is Dean fucking Winchester?" He screams, and Y/N blinks in surprise; they actually didn't know it was Dean.

"I only knew his name, not what he looked like! How was I supposed to know that idiot was him?" The demon hissed, and they looked actually scared.

"We're dead." One of others said, a hand going to cover his mouth. "He's gonna kill us all. He's probably already here-" The demon cuts himself off as blood starts to pour from his chest, light exploding from the space. He falls to the ground, and there Dean is, looking like the righteous hand of God. Blood is splattered over his face, but he's not hurt at all.

"He said it, darlin'," Y/N laughs, even though it hurts. "You're dead."

Dean uses the knife, and just the knife, to go through each demon. Y/N can feel her skull pounding, and by the time Dean gets over to her she has her head bowed.

"I'm here, baby, I'm here." He mutters to her, immediately cutting her bindings. He sees the leg bindings and knows that they did it so she couldn't slip out. He cuts those first, then moves up.

"Dean," She whispers, still not lifting her head. When he cuts her wrists she falls forward, and he grabs her.

"Hey, hey, it's okay. Get up, baby, come on." He holds her, one hand moving to her face to lift it up. "Oh, I'm gonna summon those sons of bitches to kill them again." He mutters as he takes in her wounds. He killed them with the demon knife, so he couldn't anyway, but it's a nice sentiment.

"Do you have a ring?" She asks, hoping he understands through the mottled words she was able to gargle out around the pain.

"What?" He heard her, but he's hoping her didn't actually hear her. "Come on, let's go, sweetheart. I gotcha." He kisses her forehead and begins to help her up, and she never breaks eye contact with him.

"Dean," She grabs onto his jacket with one hand, breathing heavily. He pauses, holding her as he surveys her injuries. She's got a couple cuts, bruises across her face, and he wants to stick the knife into himself for letting her go alone. "What's this?" She smiles crookedly, holding up the box that she had snagged from his pocket. He can't help but let his jaw drop slightly, shocked she slipped one by on him.

"You should give that back so I don't have to do this in a goddamn demon lair," He tries to smirk, but his heart is racing. He can tell his hand is shaking when she hands the box back, and he puts it in his pocket quickly before he starts helping her walk out of there.

"You're not even gonna let me see it?" She whines, and he just laughs into the cool air as they walk out the door.

"Not until we have a case on the coast." He tells her, helping her into the car.

"Fuck!" She yells, half a laugh behind it. "I'm never getting married!"

//

tags: @avada-kedavra-bitch-187  @one-sweet-gubler

[ladykailitha]

Spellbound Part 3

And we're back with this one! I am loving how much you guys are into this one, I hope you guys are ready for the start of the troubles.

In this we have Jason being a douche, Eddie gets mad at Wayne, and Eddie and Wayne find out about Bav!

Part 1 Part 2

~

The downside to the charm’s spell of no return is that that didn’t include their loved ones and family members. They never got through Steve’s defenses, but they sure could pound on his door and trigger a migraine.

Eddie poked his head out his front door, a little surprised that whoever was pounding on the witch’s door, had not in fact knocked his door first. But when he saw it was the major’s son, Jason, the blond Adonis, he promptly decided that it was the witch’s problem and not to interfere.

But as he turned to close the door there was a loud CRACK! He whirled around to see that idiot had brought an ax with him and was trying to break down the witch’s door.

Eddie sighed and pulled out Wayne’s shot gun that he kept by the front door and leveled it at the idiot. “Jason Carver I swear to God if you don’t step away from that door, I’ll shoot you. And while I might not be the best shot, at this distance it would be like hitting the broad side of a barn.”

Jason turned at him with a snarl, but that quickly fell from his face as he realized he was barely twenty feet from the barrel of double-barrel shotgun.

“You stay out of this, Munson,” he growled. “It doesn’t have anything to do with you.”

Eddie sighed and took two steps away from his door. “See, I was gonna mind my own business until you started deciding that because Steve wasn’t home, you were going to put an ax through his door.”

Jason paused for a moment with a frown before raising the ax again. “I know you’re lying to me. I saw movement behind the curtain.”

Eddie scoffed. “Sir, him and that girl who is his apprentice has a familiar each between them. You probably saw the cat or the bird ruffling the drapes. Now get out of here, before I start hollering for the watch.”

Jason looked back at the door and at Eddie. He pointed his ax at him. “You tell that no good witch, I’m coming for him. He’s going to pay for what he did.”

Eddie blinked at him for a moment. “Make him pay for what? He does herbal remedies and love charms. He’s mostly harmless.”

“It’s those love charms that are the problem,” Jason snarled taking a step Eddie’s direction, but stopped when Eddie moved his finger on to the trigger. “Filling people’s heads with this true love nonsense. All any woman needs is a good provider to take care of her and any babies she has.”

“Jason,” Eddie said pained, “leave before you say something else stupid that will cause me to shoot you. Women aren’t fucking bees, sir. They don’t all have the same thoughts, ideals, and desires. Some women may want what you have to offer, but not all of them, and I’m willing to bet Miss Cunningham is one of those that don’t.”

Jason stepped off the witch’s porch and walked the other direction than Eddie’s house, both of them staring each other down until Jason turn the corner and vanished from view.

Eddie slumped against the door frame and opened the chamber, cursing what he found there. It was empty. It didn’t even have two spent shells in it.

“Uncle Wayne!” he groused stomping through the house. “The gun doesn’t do shit if it ain’t loaded, old man. You could have gotten me killed just now! I hope you know that!”

Wayne came through the backdoor wiping his hands on an old rag. “What are you yapping about now?”

Eddie tossed the gun at him and he caught deftly one-handed. “You don’t keep an empty gun by the door, old man.”

Wayne checked the chamber and looked up at Eddie chagrin. “Ah.” He limped over to the cupboard and pulled out a box. He deftly loaded the shotgun, it draped over one arm. He slammed it shut and tossed it back.

“Sorry about that,” Wayne said with a cock of his head. “I forgot to reload it after chasing off those rabbits last week.”

Eddie said nothing as he put the gun back next to the door.

“Who did you chase off?” Wayne asked as he started making the tea Steve made for him.

“Jason Carver,” he groused as he sat down hard at the table, leaning his head back over the back of the chair. “Apparently his fianceé got a love charm from the witch and it didn’t match with him. So he was making an ax of himself.”

Wayne huffed a laugh, shaking his head. “So you scared him off with the shot gun? How close did you get to shooting the mayor’s son?”

Eddie raised his head. “Close enough that had it been loaded, the town would be having a fucking funeral. He actually took an ax to Steve’s door with the intent of breaking it down.”

“He was doing what now?” Wayne squawked, nearly knocking off the tea kettle from the stove. “Shit, is Steve okay?”

“No idea,” Eddie said with a shrug. “He never answered the door, so I assumed he wasn’t home. I’m hoping that because Jason was scared off, he didn’t get his mark.”

“Christ!” Wayne said, his hand beginning to shake. “With him being the mayor’s son, this is a pretty pickle. Mayor Carver could drive Steve out of town.”

They shared a long hard look and then Wayne downed his tea as fast as he could. Then they were both grabbing their coats and Eddie grabbed the gun, rushing out the front door to race to Steve’s.

They arrived at his cottage just as Robin and he returned.

The witch and his apprentice shared a glance and Steve asked what was wrong. He listened to Eddie tale solemnly.

“Well,” Steve huffed dryly. “I’d like to see them try. Many a mob has tried to oust my family for generations, I assure you they will not succeed.” He walked up the door and ran his finger over the splintered wood. “I’m sorry he hurt you.” The line grew yellow and then in a flash was gone.

Then Steve promptly fainted.

Robin and Wayne were at his side in an instant, helping him into the cottage. They laid him out on the sofa by the window. Then Eddie felt a slightly queasy feeling and he closed his eyes against the wave of sudden nausea.

Robin was pushing a cup of something into his hand before he even opened his eyes.

“Drink that,” she insisted. “It’s a little hard to get used to the feeling when Bav moves stuff around to accommodate Steve. Heaven knows it took me a whole month before I stopped turning green.”

Eddie downed it one go, gagging on the bitter taste. Next to him, Wayne did the same. Eddie looked around the room and saw that Steve’s work table that was usually by the front door was now by the back door. Even the window appeared larger to let in more air and light.

Robin started mixing up another potion and lifted Steve’s head. She helped him drink the potion and then admonished him. “You didn’t have to do that, you lunatic. Bav had it. She would have had door fixed by the end of the day.”

Steve snorted as he came round and struggled to sit up. Robin helped him straight up as he swung his feet to the floor.

“Yes, I know,” Steve huffed, gripping the edges of the sofa. “But it was the least I could do after she got hurt for me.”

Eddie wasn’t sure, but he would swear for years that walls of the cottage turned pink. Like Bav was blushing.

He had to give himself a mental shake because that wasn’t possible. There was no way that an inanimate object can blush. Then he realized that she could move. And was therefore, in face of it was in fact, animate.

Now suddenly he was uncomfortable with the knowledge that that walls might not only have ears, but eyes too.

Robin scoffed as though she could read his thoughts. “She can’t see anything or really hear. But she can feel Steve and knows what he needs.”

Eddie wasn’t sure he believed her, but there really wasn’t anything else he could do at the moment. Wayne and he watched as Robin busied herself making Steve food.

“Why do you do it if it takes so much out of you?” Eddie asked. He couldn’t remember his mama having fainting spells and eating them out of house and home.

Steve gathered up a blanket from the back of the sofa and drew it around him. “It’s not supposed to be like this,” he admitted shyly. “It’s like I can only access half of my magic. My mother couldn’t figure it out either. Last we spoke she was still looking into the matter.”

“The closest anyone has gotten to figuring it out,” Robin said, handing Steve a large plate of cheese, bread, and sweet meats, “is that his magic is tied to another witch somehow and until he finds them, he’s only a half of a witch.”

Wayne and Eddie shared a shocked glance.

“How could that even happen?” Wayne asked, in genuine concern.

Steve started to talk around his bit of cheese, but stopped when he couldn’t get the words out.

“What this adorable idiot is trying to say,” Robin huffed with a laughter, “is that once every hundred years or so there is born a pair of witches that are so powerful that they would burn themselves up in a decade. So a spell was placed on them so that when that pair was born their power would be halved to keep it from burning them out until they were old enough to control it.”

“Which is bullshit,” Steve said, gulping down the bite in his mouth. “No one believes that’s me, by the way. But it’s the closest anyone could find to why I’m such a bad witch. It’s just a fairy story witches tell their children so they grow up believing in their other half.”

Eddie’s head reared back. He thought he was cynical, but it seemed that even Steve topped him in that regard. “Wow, that’s a bleak outlook, I won’t lie.”

Steve huffed angrily and tried to stand up, but he barely got halfway before tumbling back to the sofa.

“I don’t think you’re going anywhere for awhile,” Robin said with a smirk. “You’ll need a lot of rest if you’re going to want to be on your feet anytime soon.”

“Are you sure you’re going to be fine, son?” Wayne asked. “Because after what you just told us I’m not sure you will be.”

“Bav will protect me,” Steve said stubbornly. “Even if I get caught outside of the cottage, she’ll come to my aid, you’ll just have to trust me on that.” He settled back into the sofa and Eddie could swear the house relaxed too.

Wayne opened his mouth to ask the question on both his and Eddie’s mind, but Robin held up her hand to forestall him.

“I don’t know,” she said tersely, glaring at Steve. “He won’t tell me how she’ll come to his aid, only that she would and could.”

Steve mimed locking his lips and throwing away the key and then finished the rest of his meal with a smug expression on his face.

~

Part 4

Tag List: CLOSED

1- @itsall-taken @redfreckledwolf @zerokrox-blog @sadisticaltarts @dolphincliffs

2- @gregre369 ​@a-little-unsteddie @chaosgremlinmunson @cryptid-system @kultiras

3- @maya-custodios-dionach @goodolefashionedloverboi @val-from-lawrence @carlyv @wonderland-girl143-blog

4- @bookbinderbitch @bookworm0690 @forgottenkanji @dreamercec @blondie1006

5- @yikes-a-bee @awkwardgravity1 @genderless-spoon @fearieshadow @thesecondfate

6- @dragonmama76 @ellietheasexylibrarian @thedragonsaunt @useless-nb-bisexual @disrespectedgoatman

7- @counting-dollars-counting-stars @tinyplanet95 @ravenfrog @swimmingbirdrunningrock @lingeringmirth

8- @gutterflower77 @a-lovely-craziness @just-a-tiny-void @w1ll0wtr33 @beelze-the-bubkiss

9- @wheneverfeasible @micheledawn1975 @gloomysoup @dotdot-wierdlife @tartarusknight

10- @ollyxar @yesdangerpls @two-vampires-kissing @themoonagainstmers @estrellami-1

[coldfanbou]

Sexual Education

I remember now why I don't do reverse gangbangs, lol. Well, Anyway, here we have the fic that we rolled last week. For the record, it was a classroom roleplay with Eunha, Chaeyoung, Chaeryeong, and Monday. The pictures don't relate to the fic. I just needed to post who was in the fic.

Length 3K

Chaeryeong, Chaeyoung, Monday, Eunha x M reader

You get into the classroom and look around. Having to wait for the others, you check the front desk, finding some toys still in their boxes. A small note from the company sits on top of them. "Thank you for choosing and allowing us to help you on your sexual journey. Here are some complimentary toys for you to use. After you're done today, please take them home with you."

Having nothing else to do, you take the toys out of their boxes and ensure the electronic ones work well. There are vibrators, clamps, paddles, and strap-ons, among many more toys. Each drawer has a varied amount. You close the drawer as you hear the door to the room slide open. The women you came with had just finished changing. Eunha, Chaeyoung, Monday, and Chaeryeong each wore the same uniform. It was an incredibly short red plaid skirt combined with a white button-up that had the torso cut off; a small red tie was the finishing touch.  "Hi, teacher!" Eunha and Chaeyoung eagerly say. Chaeryeong and Monday give you a small wave, obviously nervous about doing it in front of others. Standing in front of them, you're uncertain where to begin, you were hoping to get the role of a student, but in the end, you got the teacher. 

"Hello, everyone. Today we have an um…special…lesson." You turn around to face the chalkboard; you begin to write on the board, "Sexual Education." 

"I already know about that!" Chaeyoung shouts before you're able to finish writing out the word.

"Oh, do you?"

"Yep, I know a lot about it," Chaeyoung says, leaning over to show her small cleavage. 

"That’s good but don't interrupt me." You reply before you finish writing out the topic. 

"Or what?" Chaeyoung says just as you were going to speak.

You turn to Chaeyoung, "Or else, I'll have to punish you. Now, class sexual education is very-"

"I bet you haven't had sex," she says again. The others laugh at Chaeyoung's comment while you take a deep breath. Not wanting to deal with Chaeyoung doing this the entire time you take action.

"Chaeyoung, to the front." 

"Ooh, you're in trouble," Eunha says; Chaeryeong and Monday repeat her words. Chaeyoung stands and walks to the front of the class.

"Yes, teacher?" She asks with a pout.

"You'll be my example. Now, bend over the desk." While Chaeyoung bends over your desk, you open one of the drawers and grab the paddle you had seen earlier. Chaeyoung faces the chalkboard, her lack of panties made apparent to everyone.

"Teachers, such a- ahh!" She screams as you strike her bottom with the paddle. The girls are shocked and focus their attention on you. "That hurt! Hey!" Chaeyoung shouts. You sit on your desk and lift Chaeyoung's small body onto your lap before smacking her ass with the paddle again. "Stop!" She yells as you deliver a third hit. Her ass is becoming a bright red from your hard strikes. 

"Now, class, I'll start my lesson." You ignore Chaeyoung, putting your paddle on the desk and placing your hand on Chaeyoung's pussy. "What you all have is a vagina, pussy, cunt, slit; any of those names work. When stimulated and when you become aroused, it becomes wet." Chaeyoung tries to break free of your grip, causing you to smack her ass with the paddle again. You spread Chaeyoung lips for the others to see. "As you can see, Chaeyoung here is already wet, meaning she loves being treated this way. Don't you?"

"Fuck you; I don't- mhmm," Chaeyoung interrupts herself with a moan as you push your fingers inside her.  You push them as deep as possible before pulling them out and repeating the process. 

"This is called fingering, and it's something you can all do too." You look at the other women in the room as they watch you intently. You see Monday and Chaeryeong rubbing their thighs together while Eunha is already fingering herself. "Don't be afraid, Monday, Chaeryeong. No one is going to judge you. Eunha is already doing it." The younger women turn to see Eunha fingering herself and playing with her breasts. They look at each other, and Chaeryeong is the first to touch herself. Soft moans escape her as she closes her eyes. Monday follows suit doing the same thing. You get hard watching the three women play with themselves as they watch their friend be punished. "Pay attention, you two. I know it feels good, but we're still in class." The next thing you know, you feel Chaeyoung's walls tighten around your fingers. "Now, class Chaeyoung is about to have an orgasm, but that would be too soon, so we're going to stop." 

"Wait! No!" Chaeyoung screams, kicking her feet. You strike her ass again, telling her to stop.

"Shut up!" You move Chaeyoung off your lap and onto the floor. Unzipping your pants, you pull out your hardened cock. "This class is a penis, cock, dick; any of those names work. This is how a man feels pleasure. One thing a person can do with a partner is get a blowjob."  You pull on Chaeyoung's hair dragging her face into your crotch. "Charyoung has been so gracious as to give me one because she already knows about sex."

"But-." You stuff Chaeyoung's mouth with your cock forcing it into the back of her throat. 

"Look carefully, but also feel free to continue touching yourself." 

"Teacher, I'm feeling hot. Can I take off my uniform?" Eunha says while having her hand raised.

"Yes, of course. Please take off your clothing if you want to." Eunha stands from her desk and removes her revealing uniform. You get excited looking at her fantastic body, from her nice chest to her beautifully thick thighs. You can't help but thrust into Chaeyoung's mouth as you watch Eunha sit on her desk and finger herself. Her fingers plunged into her slit, coating her thighs in her juices. You get more turned on and pull on Chaeyoung's hair as you face fuck her. You don't notice as tears begin to well up in her eyes, and she slaps your thigh. Eventually, her slaps become noticeable, and you let her go. Chaeyoung flops to the ground as she catches her breath. 

Seeing your display of dominance over Chaeyoung, Monday raises her hand. She stares at your cock as she asks her question. "Teacher, can I give you a blowjob too?" Her question, though unexpected, was welcome.

"Of course, Monday. This is sexual education, and what better than hands-on? You might want to remove your uniform so you don't dirty it." Monday strips out of her uniform and uses her hands to block you from seeing her chest and cunt. "Monday, you don't have to hide yourself; just look at how Eunha is." The younger woman turns her head to see Eunha rubbing her fingers against her slit in full view of everyone. She gulps and slowly removes her hands.

"I don't know why you're so shy, Monday; you have a great body," Eunha says while staring at her. Monday blushes and quickly walks over to you, kneeling as she arrives. Hesitantly taking your cock in her hand, Monday slowly strokes it a few times before putting your cock in her mouth. Her soft lips surround your shaft as she slowly bobs her head. 

"Am I doing it right, teacher?" She mumbles, her words are muffled as she continues her blowjob. You pat her head and moan her name before answering her questions.

"You're doing great Monday, an outstanding job." You gently press the back of her skull, forcing her to take a little more. Feeling her tongue rub the underside of your cock, you let out a loud groan. "Fuck, Monday, you're so good at this. Have you done this before?" Monday shakes her head as she stares into your eyes. It only turns you on more as you watch her innocent face. "I'm going to cum. This is important, Monday; I need you to drink all my cum." You can't help yourself as you shove your cock into the back of her throat and pour cum directly into her stomach. Monday tries her best to drink it all but fails in the end. It fills her mouth and spills the corners onto her naked body. You pat her head, "That was good, Monday." You say through ragged breaths. You catch your breath before starting again. 

"We've already covered a lot in this class, but one more thing is penetration. Is there anyone that wants to go first?" 

"Like anyone would want to do that," Chaeyoung says as she stands up off the floor. 

"Thank you for volunteering, Chaeyoung." Turning to the other quickly, you say, "Watch carefully and enjoy yourselves." 

"I wasn't volunteering!" You force Chaeyoung to lie back on the desk. You strip off your clothing and quickly align yourself with her cunt. You ram your cock inside her. "Oh fuck!" She groans as you fill her up. You lift Chaeyoung's legs onto your shoulders and start thrusting. 

"This is what happens when you interrupt me, Chaeyoung."  Your thrusts are filled with strength and cause Chaeyoung's small breasts to move under her shirt. You tear it off her body, leaving Chaeyoung in just a skirt. She grimaces as you continue to pound her body. "Ladies, come here." When they don't immediately come, you turn your head to see Monday feeding your cum to Chaeryeong. Noticing you staring in their direction, Eunha approaches you and kisses your cheek.

"Teacher, I'm tired of using my fingers. I want to try this too." 

"You'll get your chance Eunha; for now, why don't you sit on Chaeyoung's face and let her eat you out." Eunha kisses you again before following your suggestion. She climbs onto the desk before planting herself firmly on Chaeyoung's face. Eunha's thick thighs trap Chaeyoung, forcing her to eat out the older woman. Chaeyoung's tongue dives deep into Eunha's cunt, making the older woman shudder. Seeing Eunha's body shiver like that arouses you; you thrust faster as a result. You pull Eunha into a kiss, and her tongue works quickly, exploring your mouth. You feel her moan as the youngest women pop in to start suckling on her breasts. 

"Teacher, I feel weird; I feel like I'm going to explode. I don't think I can hold it." 

"Hold it just a bit longer, Eunha." The sight before you excites you to no end. The pleasure that Eunha feels is immense, as every part of her is toyed with. Chaeryeong and Monday are biting at her small nubs while Chaeyoung flicks Eunha's clit with her tongue. The bliss that overcomes Eunha in the next second sends her over the edge as she cums on Chaeyoung's face. Her loud moans trigger your orgasm, and you begin filling Chaeyoung's womb with your seed. You feel Chaeyoung's walls milk your cock for as much cum as possible while you remain inside her. As you pull out, Eunha quickly rolls Chaeyoung off the desk and takes her position. 

"Please teach me." She says cutely.

"What about us?" Monday asks. Chaeryeong stays silent but looks at you with a questioning look.

You look through the drawer until you find a double-headed dildo. "Here, you can use this in the meantime. I'll get to you soon."  Monday giggles while holding the dildo, shaking it in her hand. 

"Come on, Chaeryeong, let's have some fun." Seeing that Monday has seemingly warmed up to the idea of having sex in public, you make a note that she may have a kink. 

"Teacher?" You hear Eunha calling. As you look down, you see her squeezing her breasts, gently pulling her nipple. You rub your cock against her lips before slipping it inside her cunt. The firm grip on her walls feels different from Chaeyoung's pussy. You thrust slowly, allowing yourself to hear Eunha's soft moans. "Teacher's so big." Once you're buried inside Eunha, you already feel like you're about to burst. You lean down, taking her right nipple in your mouth. Your tongue circles her small nub as you thrust into the older woman. Her breasts bounce with every thrust, and the heavy exertion has made her body glisten with sweat. 

Your hands wander around Eunha's slick body. Looking toward the sounds of loud moans, you find Monday taking advantage of Chaeryeong, pulling the older woman into her body, and pushing the dildo further inside. "Come on, Chaeryeong; I need more from you. Please, please!" She shouts. Monday twists her nipples as she draws out as much pleasure as possible. Feeling you get harder inside her, Eunha giggles. 

"You really like watching us play with each other, don't you, teacher?" You don't respond, instead impaling Eunha with your cock. A moan louder than you've ever heard comes from the small woman. It causes your cock to throb inside her. "Are you going to cum?" Eunha smiles, "cum inside me, cum inside your naughty student." You hold onto Eunha's hips as you thrust quickly; at your final thrust, you drive your cock deep into Eunha flooding her cunt with semen, causing it to pour out of her. 

Back with Chaeryeong and Monday, the younger of the two continued to fuck herself using the other. Chaeryeong looked exhausted as her body was being pulled onto the dildo. Monday looked like a completely different woman; it seemed to you that drinking your cum unlocked something within her. Monday looked over at you and, seeing you watching them, took her opportunity to have you next. While Monday approached you, Chaeryeong climbed onto her seat and rested. 

Leaving Eunha to rest on the table, you take a seat in the chair, patting your lap as a signal to Monday. "It’s my turn!" She shouts before straddling you. Monday caresses your face while staring into your eyes. "I want all of your cum inside me, all of it." She says. She grasps your semi-hardened cock, slapping it against her dripping-wet sex before sinking down on it. "This feels so much better than that dildo," she moans. She rises slowly before dropping back down on your cock. Her small cunt is stretched by your cock as it stirs her insides. After a few bounces, your cock is fully hardened inside of her, prompting her to pick up the pace. Monday bounces on your cock like an animal in heat, her tits swaying quickly, nearly hypnotizing you. Monday grips your shoulders to stabilize herself as her legs start to shake. "Fuck, you're so big, teacher. Your cock is so big." She moans, throwing her head back in pleasure. "I can't take it much longer." Monday bites her lip as her nails dig into your skin. "I'm cumming!" She shouts as she plants herself firmly on your cock. You unload inside of Monday, granting her wish and filling her with a massive load of cum. She slowly grinds against you after you've finished. Climbing off you, she falls to the floor, where she takes some of your cum from her cunt, tasting it before falling asleep. As you rest on your chair, Chaeryeong slowly stands from her seat. 

"Teacher, do you have any left for me?" She asks as she sits in your lap. 

"Why did you wait so long for your turn, Chaeryeong? I know you wanted to go a lot earlier."

"It's a little embarrassing to have everyone watch me." She looks toward the others who lay in pools of semen. "But now they're all too tired. Can you still get it up?"

"I think so," you reply. Chaeryeong kneels before you. Taking your cock in her hand, she slowly strokes your shaft, taking small licks at the head. It sends shivers down your spine as you feel her warm tongue begin to circle the tip of your cock. As you begin to harden in Chaeryeong's hand, she lets out a satisfied smile. 

"Do you like me using my tongue that much?" She asks. Once you're as hard as a rock, Chaeryeong climbs back onto your lap. Facing away from you, she waits expectantly for you to put it in. Pressing it against the entrance of her cunt Chaeryeong slowly lowers herself onto your cock. The slight resistance to entering makes it much more pleasurable as you slip past her puffy lips into the depths of her pussy. Chaeryeong's soft, breathy moans are overshadowed by the sound of your bodies colliding. Having gone through many orgasms already, you feel yourself getting on the verge of another rather quickly. Chaeryeong feels your cock throb within her and quickens her pace. "Hold on just a little longer. I'm nearly there." 

"I don't know how much longer I can do that. Let me help you, though." You say through quick grunts. Your hands reach up toward Chaeryeong's breasts, squeezing them roughly. At the same time, you kiss the back of her neck; it was always a sensitive area for her. 

"Mhmm, if you keep doing that, I'm going to cum soon." She groans, pressing her ass against your crotch. You hold her in place as you rapidly thrust. She screams that she's about to cum when you bury your cock inside her. Chaeryeong cums at the same time; her walls clamp down on your cock as she squirts onto the floor. Her body nearly falls forward, and you're forced to pull her back. You catch your breath, feeling Chaeryeong's breathing slow down as her body rests against yours. Minutes go by before a knock on the door gets your attention. 

"Your time is nearly coming to a close. Please ready your things, and don't worry about any mess. We'll clean it up." 

You get dressed and ready the others to leave, making sure to bring the used toys. In the showers, Eunha and Monday talked about what a great time they had, while Chaeyoung talked your ear off about being too rough. That said, if you had been softer on her, she would have complained too. Chaeryeong cleaned herself off in silence, trying to think of the next time something like this could be done.

[imonawholedifferentlevel]

𝐓𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡 𝐓𝐨𝐲 - 𝐎𝐥𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐂𝐚𝐫𝐨𝐥 𝐃𝐞𝐧𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠

ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: ʏ/ɴ ᴡᴀꜱ ᴀʟᴡᴀʏꜱ ᴀ ᴛᴏᴜɢʜ ᴡᴏᴍᴀɴ ɢʀᴏᴡɪɴɢ ᴜᴘ ʙᴜᴛ ᴡʜᴀᴛ ɪꜰ ɪᴛ ᴀʟʟ ᴄʀᴀᴄᴋꜱ ʙᴇᴄᴀᴜꜱᴇ ᴏꜰ ᴀ ᴄᴇʀᴛᴀɪɴ ᴡᴏᴍᴀɴ

ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: ꜰʟᴜꜰꜰ, ꜱʟɪɢʜᴛ ʜᴜᴍᴏʀ, ꜱᴍᴜᴛ 18+, ᴛᴏᴘ! ᴄᴀʀᴏʟ, ʙᴏᴛᴛᴏᴍ! ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ, ᴀɢᴇ ɢᴀᴘ, ʙᴀᴅɪꜱᴏɴ, ꜱʟɪɢʜᴛ ᴛʜʀᴇᴀᴛᴇɴɪɴɢ, ᴍᴇɴᴛɪᴏɴꜱ ᴏꜰ ꜱʟɪɢʜᴛ ᴀʙᴜꜱᴇ

ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢꜱ: ᴄᴀʀᴏʟ x ꜰᴇᴍ! ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

ʀᴇQᴜᴇꜱᴛᴇᴅ ʙʏ: lizzieolsenswhore (from wattpad)

ᴀ/ɴ: ꜱᴏʀʀʏ ɪ ᴛᴏᴏᴋ ꜱᴏᴏ ʟᴏɴɢ ʜᴜɴ!

"Murphy! Pack your things your moving to C-block!" Hellman shouted my eyes widened in shock and I turned and saw one of my best friends Daya looking back at me with the same expression.

"W- what for?!" I asked alarmed he just said nothing and stood at the gate with his arms crossed I sighed and got up from the table and walked towards me and Barbra's shared cell.

I felt Barbra's gaze on me as I started packing my things "and just where are you goin?" She asked putting down a small box of coke she was snorting.

"I'm leaving" I muttered and she quickly shot up a look of disbelief.

"Like hell you are" she snorted and stood up.

I mean me moving to C- block wouldn't have been so bad because to be honest I felt like Barbra was only using me because I used to be a drug seller my business was spreading through about ten states before I was finally caught.

I had feelings for the older women for a while bit she made it bluntly obvious that she was straight unlike her four eyed sister Carol.

See she was the reason why I was scared to move to C-block because I'f Barbra was bad Carol was extremely worse the true definition of a sociopath and has been trying to kill her older sister for the past 30 years.

And sense I was one of her right hands Carol knew exactly who I was.

I had only saw her about three times when I was working the janitor job and had to go into C-block with other inmates to clean but aside from her scary demeanor she was gorgeous.

"I can't do anything about it Barb" I stated packing the rest of my things she said nothing else and sighed.

I nervously looked down at my feet but gasped a little when I felt arms wrap around my small frame "stay safe l/n" she said in a firm but soft tone I smiled and hugged her back.

"I will" I said and exited the cell I heard some people say goodbye and I waved to them back before I heard the gates open and I was escorted out will hellman.

I felt eyes burning into me as I entered C-block I never liked being the center of attention and felt extremely uncomfortable.

"Alrighy Murphy your in Cell 1-03 good luck" he stated with a smirk before walking off.

"Well, well, well look who we have here!" I sighed when I heard that familiar Boston accent I turned and saw my older cousin Madison walking towards me with her girls trailing behind her.

Me and Madison never had the best relationship she had horrible anger issues and always tried to beat me up and play pranks on me everytime I visited just because she got bullied at school.

But I had always been stronger than her despite me being pretty small and it always ended with me beating her ass and her throwing another tantrum she was always a huge baby.

"If it isn't my cutie little cousin" she chuckled and her girls followed.

I rolled my eyes and placed my stuff down "Madison" I stated crossing my arms.

"That's Badison to you" she grunted with a sarcastic smile.

"Ok then don't call me your cousin cause it's embarrassing being related to you fartison" I said knowing how much that nickname hurt her back then heard one of her girls snicker silently but one look from Madison shut her up real quick.

I grabbed my stuff and walked forward unaware of Madison sticking her foot out to trip me I stumbled forward but quickly caught myself and ended up doing a front flip back onto my two legs.

Some people gasped and I fixed my clothes before giving my cousin a glare "5 years later and I still outsmart you with that move grow up Madison" I said and walked off.

I looked to my right and saw Carol looking at me with a sharp gaze but I caught an ounce of curiosity in it as well I quickly looked away and walked towards my designated cell.

When I got inside I saw that the bottom bunk was occupied so I put my stuff on the top one.

"Murphy huh?" I turned around and tensed up seeing Carol leaning against the door with a smirk.

"Yeah and not proud of it" I stated changing out of my beige clothes and into the dark blue uniform not even caring about the fact I'm being watched.

"So you must be the little toy who was always running behind my sister" she said walking closer to me and I backed up a little.

"Wouldn't say that more of a tough toy" I said grunting a little when my back met the wall she put her hands on either side of my head and leaned closer to my face to the point I could smell her candied breathe.

"Well now your in my block and the way I see it you have two choices join me and live or you don't so what's it gonna be princess?" she asked.

"Fine" I said and she smirked backing up from me and walking out of the the cell like nothing happened.

After that day I started working for Carol I felt pretty guilty doing it tho since I was loyal to Barb for so long and my feelings for her still hasn't faded.

But at the same time me and Carol started to get closer and I started to form feelings for her Madison started to get jealous since I was basically taking her place and it was quite amusing to say the least.

The longer I worked the Carol the more my feelings for her grew and aside from the slight flirting we do I didn't think she got the message or the idea that I had a crush on her.

"Hey Carol" I asked looking up from my magazine and she did the same.

"Yeah?" She asked.

"Have you ever been in love before?" I asked she raised an eyebrow before letting out a snicker.

"Hell no love is bullshit" I felt relived that she didn't like anyone else but upset that she thought that way about it.

"Bull-true" I said back and she gave me a suprised look before rolling her eyes.

"You've been around me too much" she muttered under her breathe and I chuckled.

"But seriously love isn't bullshit it's a wonderful thing to feel the best thing to feel" I said and she gave me a puzzled gaze.

"Why are you even talking about this I mean other than the fact that you had a little sexual crush on my crack head sister who mind you is straighter than a zipline" she said putting her magazine down.

"Ok one I don't like her any more I like someone else-"

"Oh do you now?" She asked.

I felt my face heat up a little and I nodded "as a matter of fact I do" I said.

"Well then who is it doll?"

I looked into her striking blue eyes that were waiting for an answer and I took a deep breathe.

'Now or never' I thought and I leaned forward cupping both of her cheeks and pressing my lips against hers.

I felt kinda scared when she didn't kiss back but it vanished when she wrapped her arms around my waist and pulled me onto her lap.

I wrapped my hands in her hair making sure to not mess it up.

Within seconds she was ontop of me with a smug look.

"You just dug a deep whole for yourself sweet cake" she cooed darkly and yanked my prison pants down in one swipe I yelped silently but felt myself getting more turned on my by the roughness.

Carol started leading kisses down my body and spreading my legs exposing my wet area she growled lowly and pressed her knee up against my sensitive area.

I moaned softly when she started moving her knee in circles and tried moving my hips with her but she gripped my waist with an iron grip and slammed my hips onto the rough material.

"Don't fucking move" she sneered and removed her knee.

She leaned down and gave my thighs kisses and love bites I whimpered and took off my shirt and bra.

I started fondling my breasts giving my upper body some attention Carol saw what I was doing and stopped to lean back up and attach her lips to mine again.

I licked her upper lip asking for entrance and she opened her mouth allowing me to slip my tounge inside of her mouth.

She leaned her hand down and squeezed my ass roughly while using her other hand to rub me through my panties I moaned under my breathe and grinded my hips into her hand.

"Please Carol" I pleaded she pulled away and gave me a look that sent shivers down my spine.

She gripped my jaw and made me look into her eyes "beg tell me you want it" she said.

"Please please Carol make me yours i"ll do whatever you want just please" she growled and yanked my panties down.

"Whatever you want princess" she snarled.

She placed my legs on her shoulders and went down giving my clit a long lick I squealed at the sudden action but it slowly vanished when she started going down on me.

"Oh my god" I moaned gripped the railing of the bunk bed I felt her smirk against me and plunge her tounge deeper inside of me.

"Fuck!" I cried out she gripped my thighs tightly running her hands down my smooth skin.

After several blessed minutes I felt my stomach tightening as my moans got louder my climax getting closer.

Carol leaned back up and stuck two fingers into me moving them at a rough pace I cried out.

"You wanna cum princess?"

"Yes, yes!" I whined feeling my climax getting closer.

"Then cum" she whispered into my ear and curled her fingers hitting my g-spot my eyes rolled in the back of my head as my arousal covered her fingers.

She helped me ride out my high before slowly removing her fingers and I whined from the sudden loss.

"So who do you like again?" She asked wiping my juices off.

I gave her a look and she chuckled under her breathe and gave me a quick peck on the lips.

"You keep playin your cards right and I might just let you take Badison's place fully" she said and got up to grab a lollipop.

I smiled and tucked myself into the covers maybe I could show Carol how to love I'f I play my cards right.

[drizzledrawings]

I really like your coyote piece ... I feel the instinct to be defensive of it against assholes but I would rather like take a moment to appreciate it aside from and away from that for a moment... The artwork itself is beautiful, the framing and the pattern in the background and the shackles with the little snap in it.. but the text on it especially.

It resonates with me a lot. I don't know that it's exactly how I feel but really close to it. I'm also like feminine genderqueer (I usually go with woman cause it is close enough for me and I do like she/her pronouns a lot), and it's so real. Not really the same as what they think but close enough but being put in this box that says to obey. To heel.

I see where people might feel like it's misogynistic but I think that's an ill faith interpretation. It's not against women, it's about not feeling like women but other people perceiving you that way unless they have enough of a read or enough knowledge or are close enough to see that we're not that. I don't think comparing women to dogs is a bad metaphor bc there's nothing wrong with being a dog, it's like just overall the IDEA Of woman, what a woman is meant to be, has been shaped by patriarchy for so long that a parallel to the way humans have domesticated the wolf is not far fetched, just controversial. But in regards to a personal piece on personal gender identity it works really well. We have the same bones but what you see is not what you get.

I just wanted to let you know it was important to me and I feel that way too and I think it's a beautiful piece.

Your interpretation is spot on! I knew what I was doing when I used the dog metaphor, the domestication of wolves vs. How the patriarchy affects women is one of the things I was trying to comment on (while of course also talking about gender identity)

I’m glad you resonate with it! Genuinely thank you so much

[aidenlydia]

I have seen that you are very open about supporting trans people and that your pronouns are they/them. How were you able to understand that you were trans? (If you are.) I've honestly felt so confused lately and don't have anyone I can ask about this. I love your ftm ghost art. I think it is amazing. I just don't know what to do or how I'll ever be able to figure out myself. Totally not your job but was curious if you had advice.

Not sure how helpful this will be, because my trans experience is deeply interlinked with my Dissociative Identity Disorder and Autism, so I'm sorry if this is a bit confusing.

What is Dissociative Identity Disorder

Dissociative Identity Disorder - Terms and Definitions

Autism and Gender

The reason why I go by they/them is because we're literally multiple people. Our two Hosts Aiden and Lydia (aka the alters interacting most with the world outside of our own head) are a man and a woman. We spend all our time together, sharing a body and the control over it.

We used to go by he/she, but people would only view us as a girl because of our body, so we switched to they/them. It makes more sense and feels better to be acknowledged together instead of Aiden being left out all the damn time.

Now bear with me here.

Though Lydia is a cis women, she grew up never belonging anywhere because we're autistic, so she feels like an imposter and a fraud when trying to connect to her feminity. Most days we barely feel human at all because we've been othered all our life. But she still views herself as a woman - motherhood in particular is a big important part of her.

Aiden is a trans man, but he doesn't mind our feminine body and doesn't plan on getting surgery ever. Testosterone maybe, but even that isn't super important to him at the moment. To him knowing he's a man is enough, passing isn't a priority at all. And because all of our Littles are girls he's rather protective of their body - any kind of medical procedure would cause a lot of fear in them.

He realized he's trans because he preferred a male name for himself, short hair and male clothing. It happened very quickly because exploring gender has never been an issue for us, it's fun and simply felt comfortable.

We do have two Agender Alters, but they don't come out in our regular daily life. They don't feel like anything really, they're deeply connected to nature and just want to exist as genderless beings, so they prefer not taking control of our body. It feels peaceful not being put into a box or defined by gender expectations and whatever other bullshit the world comes up with.

In the past we used to have another trans male Host, but he was suffering deeply from gender dysphoria. He couldn't stand the sight of our body or existing in it and became very self destructive about it. Until one day he just stopped coming out and hasn't been back since.

Before I even realized I had DID, gender wasn't really a concept to me. Same with names, it just didn't make sense to me why someone couldn't just change their name if they didn't like the one their parents gave them for whatever reason. I think of people as people, not boys and girls. Sure there are physical differences, but the meanings/genderroles we attributed to them are completely made up.

Folks love nagging me about how I draw my Ghost, but the truth is he can walk around looking like a cis girl and still be a man, I truly dgaf. So what if he's smaller and more delicate looking next to that big bear of a captain, that doesn't make him any less of a man.

The best advice I can give is you don't need to label yourself if you don't want to. You can experiment and just see what feels good. Maybe you'll find a label or make a plan along the way, but don't feel pressured to.

Common things people do is try out a different name, change their pronouns, create and play as video game characters of the opposite gender/sex (or gender non-conforming in general), listen to trans playlists/musicians, shop clothes/stuff in the other section (including underwear or things like jewelry ect), read books or watch movies about different kinds of trans characters, watch video essays about trans topics, create OCs or sonas, look at trans art and watch/read about other people's trans journeys.

Of course there are "what's my gender identity" tests you can take too, idk how helpful those are but I guess they can give you a bit more insight and maybe make you ask questions that you haven't asked yourself before.

Lastly here's a list of gender identities and definitions that might be beneficial to have a look at, as well as my trans resource list I put together last month about what can be done to change your gender in various ways

[destinyc1020]

Sunday confession: Zendaya being blamed for the erasure of black women in media is wrong and unfair. I recently saw a tweet where someone watched Challengers and said she was miscast and Myha'la, an incredible actress on Industry, and it's like, why is it that, in the black community we have this scarcity mindset when it comes to success of one black actress? If one succeeds, it's impossible for others to do the same, if not the same, in their own way?

There can only be one great black actress, but other communities, they are allowed multiple?

Colorism is a real thing but that's not the reason there is erasure of unambiguous black women, it's those actresses not having a fanbase since they were teens and not being marketable. A great example in Naomi Campbell and Ayo Edebiri.

Let's focus on Naomi first.

She has dominated the fashion industry since the 80s and at one point was the highest paid model if her time, even more than her white counterparts and Tyra Banks, a lightskinned black woman who most ppl online would say she has more privilege than Naomi yet, Naomi was more successful. Colourism didn't limit her success, so that's where I get confused when ppl complain, ppl forget their history.

Ciceley Tyson, Lola Folana, Viola Davis, Kerry Washington, Robin Givens, Vivica A.Fox are black actresses who despite hardships, have not been put in a box and played complex characters and compare it to Z's filmography, the difference is loud. Z, as of recent, its allowed to be able to play complex characters, and yet ppl assume she's superior to them when they equate her visibility equivalent to better success is so backwards. The biggest thing that has helped Z is fashion cause it allowed her to create an avenue that wasn't tied down to her role, and fashion is universal in a way.

Ayo Edebiri is a great example of being a successful black actress. She's not even 30 and has achieved so much in the last few yrs than most actors do in a decade. Being a writer and director also helps, but we all saw her first as an actress. Yes she's dark skinned but she's also unbelievably talented and those ppl who complain don't take her success as a win because they have an image on how a black woman should be in hollywood and because she's not "glamourous", they dismiss her. How frustrating.

Jayme Lawson, Chloe and Halle Bailey, Lovie Simone, Carlacia Grant, Ryan Destiny, GeffriMaya, Vivian Oparah, Jodie Turner-Smith are just the few unambiguous black actresses who are young and killing it so I'm sorry I'm not seeing this scarcity.

If the argument was there aren't enough black led romcoms or sitcoms like Girlfriends or the black version of Sex and the City, I can understand because then it's an industry problem, not a ppl problem.

End of rant😭

Thanks Anon for your confession. 😊 I know this is a very touchy subject for some, so I'll try to handle it lightly.

First of all, I def agree with you....I don't think that Z herself should be blamed for what we see in Hollywood. To me, it's society, as well as the industry which should be blamed.

why is it that, in the black community we have this scarcity mindset when it comes to success of one black actress? If one succeeds, it's impossible for others to do the same, if not the same, in their own way?........There can only be one great black actress, but other communities, they are allowed multiple?

Well, a lot of times, there's this scarcity mindset in the Black community because Hollywood itself only allows one of us to be super successful at a time. It's not even that black actresses don't exist in this country, it's more so that we're (YOUNG Black actresses) not given the meaty roles (or media coverage) that would really help to catapult our careers to superstardom.

Zendaya has been smart in carving a small part for herself in this industry and even outside of the industry, which is a very strategic and wise move, because she knows that there aren't many roles for young actresses who look like her in this industry.

All of the other actresses that you mentioned like Kerry, Viola, etc ..... most weren't doing meaty film roles in their 20s. I have always said that hollywood doesn't have a problem with older black actresses, but when it comes to beautiful, younger black actresses, it's almost like they've tried to pretend like we don't even exist. And when I realized that eighty five percent of casting directors are middle-aged white, women that told me everything I needed to know lol 😂

Ayo Edebiri is a great example of being a successful black actress. She's not even 30 and has achieved so much in the last few yrs than most actors do in a decade. Being a writer and director also helps, but we all saw her first as an actress. Yes she's dark skinned but she's also unbelievably talented and those ppl who complain don't take her success as a win because they have an image on how a black woman should be in hollywood and because she's not "glamourous", they dismiss her. How frustrating.

Ayo is a good example...a bit of a wild card.... She's unambiguously BLACK. She's EXTREMELY talented, funny, successful, and seems sweet. I love her! 🥰

But she's also non-threatening. (Read: Lacks sex appeal). Just being honest! 🤷🏾‍♀️

When is the last time you've seen a fully black, young, attractive actress in a mainstream Blockbuster film? I'll wait..... 👀

All of the other younger black actresses you mentioned may be successful in their own right, but can you really say that any of them are even near Zendaya's level? Not even CLOSE.

Granted, not many actresses (even white) are.

I don't think people should be blaming Zendaya for that though. She's pretty famous however, so that's why her name keeps getting brought up. 🤷🏾‍♀️

Personally? I blame the system/society.

[taki118]

Yakuza Fiance ep 6 Manga Comparison

We are halfway through the anime folks. As always under the cut I have everything the anime missed out on from the manga. The scans are fantranslated cause I'm lazy.

First thing the convo between Tsubaki and Yoshino is framed in the manga as a flashback.

The convo is mostly the same but once more details are missed such as Yoshino determining that Kirishima seeing her then was 6 years ago.

We also loose out on this cute image

Now they then cut to the school where the manga picks up so I'm not sure why they removed the stare thing (I know the anime loves its dramatic stares) maybe for time?

Anyway the convo at school is much the same but if you thought that little stop Yoshino gave during her lecture was weird well the manga has an explaination

Like I don't get why the anime didn't put a text box or something they've done it before, its just kinda odd. (I dunno I honestly forgot about this during my first watch and was like "That was weird" I didn't get the reason for Yoshinos shock maybe thats just me though)

Ok so the scene is again mostly the same but the visuals when Yoshino realizes she's Kirishimas first friend is such a down grade in the anime. She just stands there and the word friend repeats in the background meanwhile the manga gives us this

Like we get this cute little slugger Yoshino, which I gotta assume is a reference to something, then we get a little montage of all the shit she's gone through its just very underwhelming by comparison.

So ok the Nao stuff first of all I wanna say the lighting is like off like its so bright the manga gives the impression of a more softer lit place so it feels more like a high class bar. Its not really a difference but it annoyed me and I am writing this haha.

The convo is much the same again with some small stuff cut, I'd say Naos internal thoughts are much meaner in the manga. They did change placement again though. When the other women bring up Kirishima in the manga Nao goes straight into flashback mode

It gives the impression that she is lost in thought and can't help thinking about him even though she's such a calculated person, this info gets put into the anime but it doesn't offer the same weight but I'll compare once there cause they made.....choices. But also it doesn't feel as abrupt when Kirishima shows up in the manga you get the impression Nao has been sitting silently for a bit. Not the "hey we were literally just talking about you" vibe the anime has.

So they put the flashbacks in when Nao is in the bathroom scene and they are framed a bit differently from the panel above (the sex thing is there just on another page so i didn't add it) So like instead of a scene in a bar or club where you assume they mightve talked about him before she approaches we get this

Which is like ummmm I don't actually know if the anime is trying to make a point or not, about the age difference or whatever

So like Nao panics more in the manga (and I really wanna make a post on this at some point so I won't get too in the weeds but) and we learn just how long it's been since she saw Kirishima (we do get him saying it was 3 years in the anime like the manga but honestly ya'll missed out on her panicked thoughts)

So it was three years ago Kirishima is 18 now meaning he was was 14-15 when they met which is why the scene in the anime is interesting. I think they thought rather than having nao say the time frame they thought to visually imply it by having her see him in school uniform which is a choice particularly with the girl she's with. Like we have a college freshman (probably she might be older) openly being like "wow arent those highschool freshmen so hot?" I dunno it's kinda funny.

But yeah anyway the manga gives us more detail into her thoughts and how she thinks about it (also did anyone else think the close up on the kiss was weird and it lingered too much?)

Anyway we get another loss of thoughts

Like nao is constantly thinking like this not sure how she'll come across in the anime honestly.

Anyway again convo is much the same only shortened, with Kirishima directly saying she acted more like a foreigner back then. But also when he leaves she doesn't look at the card in the manga, nor does Ozu show up to give an ominous stare (this adaptation and adding stares I swear to god)

Ok so this is something I mentioned in ep 4 but they took out how Yoshino has been planning a summer trip to Osaka for a while

Like this they also took out which leads into her cute hand binoculars (glad they kept it) and convo on the phone with Kirishima. Its another set up thing they dropped so it feels a little more random and convenient in the anime.

So the start of the trip is overall the same but again we loose some character beats

In the manga it feels like she pulls him before he gets shoved and we get explanation why he's never really been to Osaka and a cute culture clash moment.

Ok so this is weird we get the face but we don't get the context for it. Like this head thing felt so off to me when I first watched again maybe its just me.

That being Yoshino trying to play tour guide for Kisishima all while doing tasks.

We also loose out on the explanation as to why she's buying so much food and Yoshino getting a little nostalgic. These scenes also help to show that the roles have shifted with Yoshino being the knowledgeable one Kirishima has to relay on in a new city. We can kinda get the vibe in the anime but you really feel it in the manga.

I will say the scene at the Takoyaki store is pretty good in the anime giving some actually fun visuals and expressions.

So the scene with Nao and her coworker is longer in the manga the woman keeps complaining about various things and Nao is working overtime with keeping her composure

It actually showcases a lot of her personality with all the mental back talk she does so its a shame it was cut. Like I get it who wants to listen to someone humble bragging like this but it takes away from her character.

We also loose more of Naos thought process as she considers seeing Kirishima again due to this conversation.

Again I will likely do a whole thing just on Nao at some point but the anime skips over all of this and gets right to Ozu talk.

But once the get there ugh we once more loose some set up stuff

Again not having Nao think about Kirishima makes her contacting him seem a little less calculating and we loose the hint that Ozu was trying to contact Nao privately. The rest of the convo goes the same.

So we do loose some cute domestic stuff with Yoshinos arrival in the anime

Showing how she is with the gang members its not a lot but still.

So the room scene is pretty one to one which i am very grateful for its one of my favs. We do miss a small explaination about the keychain though.

No spoilers for anime onlys but be the fact that it feels heavy is important later. I will say the touch of doing a close up on Kirishimas hands as he holds it like he doesn't want to let go was really good.

So the walk is honestly well done in animation and I'm grateful to how they visually show Yoshino struggling to keep pace with the two but we do loose a Yoshino thought thats important.

Its kinda important for the arc as Yoshino tries to better understand Kirishima.

The store scene is very accurate and I love they kept the Shoma trying to sneak to drinks thing but we lost this dumb Shoma face

We then loose an inbetween scene of Nao meeting up with Kirishima before the hotel. It again serves to establish Nao as a character and her thinking.

Honestly this would have been better to end the episode on. Instead we get a very rushed Hotel scene.

And I do mean rushed, the tattoo talk is longer and helps to set a timeline for Kirishima.

Like im having such trouble picking things cause this scene is so much longer

They go into more detail about WHERE exactly they are going tomorrow which is set up. Then before he leaves to shower we get this back and forth where he explains she seems more like herself now.

Which then leads into the seeing the phone screen. It all gives the impression of two people who have history. But the anime is so rushed you can barely tell. I am really hoping for some brevity next ep cause it will have some scenes I really like.

[strideofpride]

Okay I can't stop thinking about the Barbie ending. Cause like as absolutely hilarious it was (the whole theater howled) it also is the perfect button for the theme of the movie, coming out of girlhood into womanhood. (this is going to be a very cis reading because, well, Greta is cis and was clearly drawing on her own cis experiences - terfs do not interact)

The first thing Barbie experiences in the real world is being catcalled and objectified, which reminds me a lot of a passage from Tina Fey's book. She talks about how she went to this women's conference when she was working on Mean Girls and they were asked how they knew they were becoming a woman. And pretty much every single one said it was when some dude said something gross to them out of a passing car. It's such a universal experience to get catcalled at 13-14-15 year's old, when your body is only just developing. And that's what Barbie also experiences first.

Then there's the scene where the Mattel men (and they're all men of course) try to put her back in the box. The shot of her hands being strapped down was so unsettling to me and I think that was Greta's intention. Maybe this is a huge reach but it almost felt like it was a metaphor for sexual assault. And I don't think it's a universal experience to be sexual assaulted, especially as a teenager, but I do think it's unfortunately still pretty common.

Then she gets back to Barbieland and has to confront the patriarchy head on, has to learn how to deal in this world catered towards men, has to learn how to develop a sense of self even though she's become depressed by the state of things. Depressed by the fact that she's changing and she doesn't know how to stop it. The "I'm not pretty anymore" moment is played for laughs cause the narrator rightfully calls out that this is an insane line to come out of Margot Robbie's mouth. But I think it speaks to going through puberty, to not feeling like you're at home in your own body anymore (hell this is the same scene where we see the Growing Up Skipper doll, a doll who's breasts can grow and shrink at her human's will - talk about body horror).

And because this is a movie centered on the hero's journey, Barbie and friends are able to get the patriarchy out of Barbieland and work towards a more equal future, but the real next step in Barbie's individual journey is seeing her creator (and this is where the gender swapped Adam/Eve myth of creation stuff really comes into full force but that's a whole other post altogether) who in a lot of ways is just Barbie's mother ("mothers stand still so daughters can look back and see how far they come" !!!!!). It's her mother figure that gets Barbie through that transition from girlhood into womanhood, who assures her that while things might not be perfect, it's still worth experiencing. (And of course there's the theme of mortality as well, that what makes the human experience special is that it's not infinite)

So that final button of Barbie going to the gynecologist for the first time is actually just the completion of her arc. I saw some people being like "I thought she was going to a job interview!" and I think that was absolutely an intentional misdirect, but I don't think her going to a job interview would've hit as hard. (For a lot of reasons, but the main one is it's a very capitalistic idea that you become an adult when you start to generate your own wealth) It had to be her going to the gynecologist, something only adults usually experience, not children. She's no longer a girl anymore, she is a woman.

[zahri-melitor]

Batman Eternal

I think for a weekly, event comic that was promising to deliver the Bat Family, it underperformed. Some people had a good event, some people had a mediocre event and were underused, and there were a few absolute shockers.

The Good:

In terms of a 'push Bruce to the limit' event, it was interesting in that this one pushed Batman, the Bat Family AND Bruce, separately, to their limits. I'm used to events being 'pick two of the three'. That said, it still underestimated the effectiveness of its supporting cast.

Bruce had a solid event, in that it was focused on him and broke him down to build him back up by running him ragged and keeping him guessing on 'who caused this'. Honestly I don't have a lot to say about Bruce's plot, sorry. It was an okay mystery running through various rogues? I think making Cluemaster Who Dunnit was not the right choice (Arthur should always be a bit pathetic), but I can see why they picked him in the story that's returning Steph and after making Riddler the big bad for Zero Year.

Selina actually had a reasonable event. She got her entire backstory rewritten and ended up controlling crime in Gotham at the end of it, but eh, the former happened to a lot of people during n52 and the latter is something Selina ends up doing every now and then. Her plotline involved organised crime and Carmine Falcone, so it was even something associated with her long term story arcs.

Jim Gordon: look, once we get past the incredible miscarriage of justice that was Jim being arrested and convicted for manslaughter (please, please, explain to me how Jim shooting the signal box input was what caused the trains to crash, rather than the railway routing that meant there was timetabling and no fallback override for two trains SHARING TRACK while running in opposite directions), it was essentially just an excuse to put Jim in Blackgate and start up the plots there. Which you know, went pretty well. Jim got to be the strong man, show off his personality, and presumably this all sets up the Superheavy plotline (sigh).

Julia Pennyworth. Look, I don't hate the idea of Julia, so much as am confused by the very tight timeline constraints required for her existence (post about this coming), and I resent that DC let the team basically invent a new Oracle without being allowed to acknowledge that Oracle is Barbara Gordon. It's like it's an important role in Gotham! Anyway. In terms of what Julia brought to the page, I did appreciate that the writing team seemed committed to increasing the number of women characters populating Gotham, I am happy to have someone not Alfred running comms for the Bats, and I can see several ways she'd be an interesting character to have around, long term, for storytelling. I could grow to like her. But man. I had a really hard time swallowing her existence while Barbara's in the same event having her character destroyed.

Harper Row is so clearly Scott Snyder's pet. Honestly, I really enjoyed her design and the general arc of her story; adding an electrical engineer to the group is actually a relatively unoccupied niche and gives her points of differentiation, but by handing her such a major part of the plot while other, fan favourite characters were appearing and getting not much at all was setting her up to fail in the eyes of the audience.

Steph ranks up in the 'had a good event' category. She essentially reran her origin story combined with aspects of her War Games plot (before everyone yells at me, I particularly noted the correlation with the part of the story where Selina hid her with Holly coming through here with Steph hiding from Arthur and her getting dumped at the Rows for protection. Go actually read War Games). I liked the concept of the Spoiler blog being what she used as her name inspiration here. I again wouldn't have minded if she had actually interacted more with other Bat characters (everyone got very siloed here) but you know what? The story brought her back and set her back up in her default sort of background state. Seriously, they picked from Steph's biggest stories here (her origin, War Games, and actually parts were in conversation with War Crimes, which is a phrase I never thought I would say), and that was a reasonable decision imo.

The Mediocre:

Luke Fox got an interesting plotline with Jim Corrigan and the Spectre. Unfortunately it rarely interacted with the rest of the story (apart from leading to Arkham blowing up). This could have been a separate mini.

Tim got to appear in actual Bat titles, doing actual Bat things, and while being abrasive I could squint at him and see his original characterisation. Tragically despite this he basically didn't get to interact with existing characters he knew for most of the plot. Got handed the idiot ball on occasion to show off Harper. I wish he'd had more opportunities to spend time with characters I know and enjoy him with.

Kate Kane was there, for this event. She got to spend some time with Barbara and Jason. She also really didn't do much of anything. It felt like an obligatory 'you currently have a solo' appearance.

Jason Bard: look this is where I'm conflicted. If this was simply Random Cop #34, I'd have probably bumped it up to good but unrealistic (in terms of the speed run to Commissioner), but as a Jason Bard story? About all they kept or knew of Jason was that he's a cop, he was mentored by Jim Gordon, and that he Has A Limp. I am still outraged they made Babs give him the limp, I think making him a minor antagonist of this was a waste of bringing back Jason Bard, and the endpoint left him in a position where he's moderately unusable by other writers (there was a slight set up for 'transition him over to a detective agency' but there was no resolution on why anyone in Gotham either among the GCPD or the Bats would trust him after this).

The Bad:

Hush. No, not so much in his story (it was boring, it was Tommy being Tommy, yawn), but in the fact for no apparent reason Tommy is running around with his head bandaged. WHY? No reason was given. Using the bandages as his 'costume' is actually painfully irritating, because he wore the bandages during the original Hush as he was healing from facial reconstruction surgery. Here, he was imported into New 52, with his face wrapped in bandages, and no reason given. He wasn't trying to become Bruce and steal his identity. He was just...in bandages. Because that's how he looked in Hush and the fanboys think of him, despite the fact he basically never appeared in bandages again AFTER the initial Hush storyline. I'm infuriated in the pointless iconography that misses the original intent that this is.

Barbara had a terrible event. Even if I excuse everything as she was still grieving over Dick's 'death' and Jim being in jail, and the fact she was undergoing personality surgery in her own title (Batgirl #35 sigggghh), a complete random 'ship Barbara and Jason together' plotline came out of nowhere premised on the fact Barbara was missing Dick? Or something? And their age gap in n52 nonsense is only a couple of years, rather than Babs being ABOUT TEN YEARS OLDER and having babysat Jason. Ugh.

Speaking of: Jason Todd did somewhat better than some of the others in that he got to actually hang out with Barbara and Kate for a storyline, and honestly pairing him up with Kate is a route DC should look at more often in terms of character mediation, but lost 1000 points for the Jason/Barbara stuff. Also had a terrible costume (but what's new there).

Crystal Brown I am so sorry. Not only did you get yet another completely new look and personality, you lost all the few characterisation elements we had for you, you collaborated with your ex-husband, and you betrayed Steph at one point. You should be awarded damages for pain and suffering.

Lincoln March/Owlman: you were in this event SOLELY to confuse Steph and delay her cooperation with everyone else. I resent your entire existence in this timeline and it irritates me that Scott Snyder set up an entire previous event essentially to introduce you to the main universe and then waited going 'did you get it?' You are not Thomas Wayne Jnr sorry.

[ladyhindsight]

The second part of the book begins, and I am already done with the whole quote that starts the part:

I love you as one loves certain dark things — Pablo Neruda, “Sonnet XVII”

Because it isn't even a whole quote, not even a one I can find in this form, and it's not even the whole verse. This erases the whole meaning to fit into this loving certain dark things narrative, especially considering the actual following verse:

I love you as certain dark things are to be loved, in secret, between the shadow and the soul.

I also don't know what translation Clare got that from because all I can find is the latter one. ANyway. We continue with Maia and Jordan, and Jordan can go fuck himself:

→ To begin with this, fucking hell. This refers to the ending scene of chapter 4 where Maia has a flashback to trauma Jordan caused.

He pulled her closer. He was shaking. She felt the heat of his strong body against hers as his hands slid down her back. “Maia,” he whispered. He started to lift the hem of her sweater, his fingers gripping the small of her back. His lips moved against hers. “I love you. I never stopped loving you.” You’re mine. You’ll always be mine. Her heart hammering, she jerked away from him, pulling her sweater down. “Jordan — stop.” He looked at her, his expression dazed and worried. “I’m sorry. Was that not any good? I haven’t kissed anyone but you, not since…” He trailed off. She shook her head. “No, it’s just — I can’t.” “All right,” he said. He looked very vulnerable, sitting there, dismay written all over his face. “We don’t have to do anything — ” She groped for words. “It’s just too much.”

And this fucking idiot thinks it's because he might be a bad kisser. Maia has nothing to apologize for, and I'm already sick of this chapter trying to flip this dynamic over to where Maia owns Jordan a goddamn thing.

→ The whole "I don't want to be friends" and Maia acting shocked is stupid because Jordan has come onto Maia plenty of times already that she should know what he actually means. This is all idiotic.

Then die.

This could've been said also by Jace, Simon, or Magnus because all the jokes are tonally and in terms of content always the same. Ha ha, two straight boys kissing. Funny.

We skip to Clary exploring the place Jace has brought her to and rummaging through a wardrobe.

Morgenstern men love heteronormative clothing for women who wear gear meaning also pants.

→ A scene that never happened but would've been a great callback to the previous book if it was written out.

→ Hopefully Clary would remember things that happened just a while back with a visual reminder. Also → "It had been a clear day in early October.."

The last time the box was mentioned was in City of Bones where it is told that the box held "with the medals were one or two photos, a wedding ring, and a single lock of blond hair. Sometimes Jocelyn took the box out and opened it and held the lock of hair very gently in her hands before putting it back and carefully locking the box up again."

Which makes me question whether Clary then knew what the contents of the box actually were since there are no metals or a wedding ring. Which is fine, but what is not fine is that the box goes unmentioned for forever and once it makes an appearance, Clary is suddenly in the know of the contents and the contents themselves differ drastically from what was previously told. Continuity where?

Here Isabelle is an outlet of Clare's bias. Different characters of course can have different opinions and preferences, but because other characters like Lucie also keep talking how brown (hair color) is ordinary and boring and how the writing keeps coming up with ridiculous similes and metaphors for every other eye color/hair color than brown or dark, it's obvious. Even more so when a little later down here Isabelle thinks blue eyes are more interesting than black.

Meaning faerie men possibly far older than her? Shadowhunters who? Who are these Isabelle's sexy ex-dates when none is ever mentioned or makes an appearance and the premise is that the Lightwood kids have grown up pretty secluded in the New York Institute because of their parents' exile?

So Isabelle thinks she would be more interesting if she had blue eyes instead of black ones. Because appearance is what makes to interesting, not your character. Pretty on point for the narrative.

Just call her Jocelyn. You just did.

→ ...and saw Jocelyn looking at her. Jocelyn opened her mouth...

Or if you must, this order makes more sense:

→ ...and saw Clary's mother looking at her. Jocelyn opened her mouth...

→ No need for any of these. This is Isabelle's PoV, we know this is what she can observe.

→ Isabelle rolled her eyes at him and turned around/away etc. Then paragraph division and the description may commence.

Cut back to the Boredom Crew.

Thank you for the clarification. Otherwise I might have confused him to some other shared father??

Jace has not shared that look with anyone ever because the only people with shared secrets and in the know have always been Jace and Clary because the narrative is jealous of Jace having that kind of relationship or bond with anyone else.

Also Clary has not known Jace long enough to say "in a very long time."

→ Is he squinting?

→ No need for this, it's her PoV. Stop overexplaining.

→ Or: "His look was calculating: he was deciding what he was going to allow Jace to do, how much leash to give his "brother."

[silvfyre-writings]

Parenting is Stressful (BSD Fanfic)

Hello. Again. I return with another Ranpo and Fukuzawa found family fic because I really felt like writing another one. I honestly just really enjoy the dynamic between the two of them and well, we need some soft family stuff after the stress season 4 and 106.5 put us through!

This one is just as long as the last one, and in the same kind of format, so I hope you all enjoy.

It's 12am right now and I've been righting since 5pm to finish this so Imma sleep while you all read, so feel free to leave a like and/or reblog if you enjoyed the fic!

“Ah, Fukuzawa-san! It’s been a while since we’ve seen you here, how have you and young Ranpo been?” Fukuzawa paused from where he’d just been about to exchange goods with the very tired looking barista behind the counter and found himself meeting the eyes of the mothers he’d managed to befriend after he and Ranpo had moved into the neighbourhood. The group of three women had come to Fukuzawa’s aid more than once in the time since he’d met them, offering sound advice that sometimes worked, and sometimes didn’t.

“Sir?” The barista sighed, reaching out for the money Fukuzawa had just been about to hand them. “As much as I’d love to just give you these, I cannot.”

“My apologies.” Fukuzawa quickly handed the money over as he spoke, wishing the barista a pleasant day before he made his way over to the group of mothers, the goods he’d purchased secured in his arms. “It has indeed been a while. Ranpo and I are doing just fine.”

“Oh, that’s good to hear.” The oldest of the group—Kimiko—said with a smile. A mother of seven, the elderly woman had a lot of advice to give; advice that Fukuzawa was more than happy to listen to as he navigated his own, unique journey of parenting. “I hope that boy of yours hasn’t been giving you too much trouble, lately. He’s a teenager, yes?”

“Yes, he is, but he’s been good.” Fukuzawa said with a nod.

“Just you wait, Fukuzawa-san,” Another mother—Saori—shook her head in exasperation, “teenagers always find a way to make you wish you’d left them in a cardboard box on the side of the road. My own daughter is currently going through a rebellious phase herself, and it’s absolutely dreadful.”

“Oh dear, what has your daughter done this time?” Akiyo, the youngest of the group, gave her companion a sympathetic look, more than ready to listen to whatever tangent Saori was about to embark on.

And this was where Fukuzawa made his escape, before he got dragged into a conversation he did not want to be a part of. “I apologize, but I must be getting home. Ranpo is waiting for me to return. Next time we meet, I’d be more than happy to have some tea with you all.”

“Oh yes, of course, sorry for holding you up, Fukuzawa-san. Don’t be a stranger. See you another day.” Saori smiled and the three women waved as Fukuzawa quickly left the café behind, letting out a sigh as the door shut behind him. He felt a little bad for leaving as abruptly as he had, but despite the tentative friendship he’d formed with the group, he found it hard to listen to the ways they went about handling their own children. Fukuzawa didn’t know if it was because he himself had skipped all the younger years of parenthood, diving straight into the teenage years the three women seemed to despise, or if it was because the relationship he had with Ranpo was different to the usual parent-child one, or if it was because Ranpo was… well, Ranpo, but he just couldn’t agree with some of the things they said and did.

But despite that, they always managed to come through when he truly needed the help.

A crisp breeze blew through the street as Fukuzawa began to walk home, bringing with it a biting chill that was a sure sign that winter was beginning to settle in. Already, the nights were cold enough for Fukuzawa to have the heater on, and the days were starting to follow suit. The wind grew stronger for just a second, causing Fukuzawa to shiver from the chill of it. He’d have to start wearing warmer clothing soon if it got any colder… and somehow convince Ranpo that he too, would need to start layering up in order to stave off the winter winds. The last thing Fukuzawa wanted was to have to deal with Ranpo getting sick again; that one time where the boy had ended up in the hospital for a week had been more than enough stress.

But despite the chill in the air, the day was rather pleasant, enough so that Fukuzawa found himself desiring to take a stroll later in the day when the sun started to set. The area they lived in was always so nice when the sun started to descend, and even prettier when the moon came out from hiding. It would also give him a chance to be alone and take some time for himself, something he didn’t get much of these days.

Don’t get him wrong, he had grown to love Ranpo over the past couple of years, and the quirks that came with the boy, but Fukuzawa had been alone for a long time before meeting Ranpo, and was used to his own company; yet Ranpo was as clingy as he was smart, and had issues with abandonment as big as the Tokyo Tower. Of course, Fukuzawa had been working on those issues with Ranpo, making sure to tell the boy how long he’d roughly be gone for and where he’d be going—even though Ranpo’s lack of directional sense meant he wouldn’t even know how to get to wherever Fukuzawa was—and always made sure that his phone was charged and off silent. He’d also learnt that it was best to be direct with Ranpo, straight up telling the kid when he needed some space to himself, and that no, it wasn’t because of Ranpo—even though it sometimes was—and that he just enjoyed his own company at times.

Ranpo always looked sullen whenever Fukuzawa left the house without him, but at least he wasn’t trying to keep him in the house anymore.

Fukuzawa turned down the street that his and Ranpo’s home was situated on and shivered once more as the wind grew stronger with its gusts, picking up the pace so that he could get back inside into the warmth of the apartment sooner rather than later. As he approached the door, Fukuzawa found himself coming to a halt as a loud crash came from inside.

He sighed.

Of course he couldn’t leave the house for an hour without Ranpo getting up to some kind of mischief. Just so long as he hasn’t set fire to the kitchen, I don’t care. Fukuzawa thought, preparing himself for what lay beyond the door for him.

“I’m home.” He called out into the suddenly silent home, frowning when he didn’t hear footsteps coming to greet him like they usually did. “Ranpo?”

Remembering the crash he’d heard, Fukuzawa felt his concern begin to rise, and he quickly toed off his sandals and placed the bags of baked goods on the kitchen counter. Both the living room and kitchen were devoid of any signs of Ranpo, although there were signs of life; papers spread across the kitchen table haphazardly, some even finding a place to live on the floor, and the remains of Ranpo’s snacks had been left on the kotatsu in the living room. Fukuzawa’s eye twitched as he distinctly remembered telling Ranpo to clean up the mess before he’d left. It really shouldn’t have come as a surprise to him to find his request ignored, as was the norm these days. He’d just remind him to do so once he actually found the boy.

“Ranpo?” Fukuzawa called again, finally hearing some kind of response as a noise came from the direction of Ranpo’s bedroom. It wasn’t a greeting, but rather, some rather aggressive cursing. The kind that usually came after something had gone wrong that one was desperately trying to fix before being discovered. Fukuzawa sighed and made his way towards Ranpo’s room, knocking on the closed door. “You have five seconds before I open the door, kid.”

“Please don’t come in.” Came Ranpo’s voice through the wood. It sounded a little frantic, and Fukuzawa heard a pained yelp and another crash as Ranpo undoubtedly tripped over something he’d left on his bedroom floor, which was then followed by a thud as something heavy hit the floor.

Something heavy that sounded like furniture.

Fukuzawa’s heart skipped a beat. Five seconds be damned. “I’m coming in.”

“No, no—wait!” Ranpo’s voice grew an octave, but Fukuzawa ignored it as he pushed the door open, taking in the scene before him.

Ranpo’s room was always messy, so the sight of the kids’ belongings all over the floor wasn’t a surprise to him. He’d long since given up that particular argument, although the room was messier than usual, almost as if Ranpo had been searching for something. What was surprising, was the shelves that stood next to Ranpo’s closet was no longer upright, but laying on the floor, all the books and knick knacks scattered about in the general vicinity.

And in the middle of the chaos was Ranpo, dressed in an oversized sweater and shorts, looking up at Fukuzawa from his spot on the floor with an expression that started off quite frantic, but flitted through a series of emotions before settling on nonchalance. Fukuzawa just blinked at the boy. “What happened?”

“Uh… it fell?” Ranpo was frowning now, one hand coming up to scratch at the back of his head.

Fukuzawa threw Ranpo a stern look.

“I may have been standing on it?”

“Are you telling me, or asking me?” Fukuzawa asked, stepping further into the room, doing his best to avoid stepping on anything in his path. “Pray tell, why you were standing on the shelving in the first place?”

“I needed something from the top shelf and you weren’t home to grab it for me.” Ranpo shrugged, making no move to stand up, or even clear a path for Fukuzawa, which irked the older man just a little. “So I decided to just grab it myself.”

“By climbing it?”

“What else was I supposed to do? Wait for you? I needed it now.” Ranpo scoffed, crossing his arms unhappily.

“Grab a chair?” Fukuzawa suggested, coming to crouch beside Ranpo, ignoring the way Ranpo’s face flushed red in embarrassment. Despite Ranpo’s high intellect, sometimes the boy did stupid things, such as scaling a bookcase like a monkey rather than do the sensible thing and grab a chair to boost him up the necessary height. But instead of scolding Ranpo, Fukuzawa just sighed. “No matter. Were you hurt?”

“No.”

“Are you sure?” Fukuzawa said, not believing Ranpo’s words. If the bookcase had fallen when Ranpo had been standing on it, then it must’ve fallen on top of Ranpo. Yet the boy refused to look at him, and the way he was sitting gave no indication of any hidden injury.

“Yes, I’m sure.” Ranpo snapped and climbed to his feet before he stormed from the room, slamming the door shut behind him as he left. Fukuzawa couldn’t help but blink at the abrupt departure. In the time they’d been living together, Ranpo had never slammed a door, had never been upset enough to need to be aggressive with inanimate objects. It was almost as if Ranpo had been angry, an emotion that Fukuzawa had rarely seen the kid openly express before—the last time being that night in the theatre when Ranpo had been so angry at not understanding the adult world, he’d thrown a fit—and the outburst had Fukuzawa just a little worried.

Give him some space. Fukuzawa told himself, rising to his feet and making quick work of uprighting the fallen bookcase, realizing that that must’ve been what Ranpo was doing before he’d walked in. Once the bookcase was back where it was supposed to be, Fukuzawa picked up everything he recalled seeing on the bookcase and placing it on Ranpo’s bed to be put away later. Anything he wasn’t sure about, was placed at the base of the shelf; books uncrumpled and closed, toys checked for damage before being put aside, and unknown objects receiving the same treatment. Fukuzawa didn’t dare to touch anything else and left the room once he was finished.

The bags he’d left on the counter were gone by the time he emerged, and the door to the bathroom was closed, and it was obvious that Ranpo wanted to be left alone for now. So, Fukuzawa did just that, tidying up the papers on the kitchen table and placing the rubbish left behind in the bin where it belonged. After everything was back in order, Fukuzawa set about making dinner as a way of passing the time. Dinner was never a complicated affair for the two of them, on account of Fukuzawa not being much of a cook to begin with, and Ranpo only eating one meal a day—sometimes two if he was lucky—so most of the time, dinner was literally rice, some vegetables and meat in a bowl. Sometimes Ranpo would request a specific dish that he remembered his parents making for him once, so Fukuzawa would do his best to replicate it, but that was about as fancy as dinner got.

“Ranpo, dinner’s ready.” Fukuzawa knocked on the bathroom door once he’d dished up dinner. Ranpo had yet to emerge from the bathroom, and based upon the silence he received in return, had no intention of leaving it anytime soon.

Fukuzawa sighed.

“Would you like me to put it aside for you to eat later?”

No response.

Fukuzawa bit back a second sigh, instead, bringing forth all the patience he had. “I’ll leave it in the microwave for you. Make sure you eat tonight, though. You didn’t eat breakfast this morning.”

He waited a few seconds in case Ranpo had something to say, but still received no response, so Fukuzawa made his way back to the kitchen, placing Ranpo’s portion of dinner in the microwave like he’d promised before taking his own to the table and eating it. When he was halfway through his meal, he heard the click of the bathroom door, and a soft pattering of footsteps enter the kitchen. Fukuzawa watched from the corner of his eye as Ranpo threw the most certainly empty bakery bags in the trash—he had to stop himself from saying something about that, not wanting to upset Ranpo even further, but still upset himself since not everything in that bag had been for Ranpo to begin with—before he grabbed his dinner and joined Fukuzawa at the table.

Fukuzawa caught himself staring for a moment too long, Ranpo’s eyes flickering up towards him before the boy angrily jabbed his chopsticks into food, dropping his gaze and refusing to spare his guardian a single glance while he ate. And despite how desperately Fukuzawa wanted to ask Ranpo what was bothering him to have brought about this sudden anger, he kept silent, going back to his own meal, even though the food was now tasteless and felt like dirt in his mouth.

Not a single word was shared between the two while they ate, and Ranpo only ended up eating half of his dinner before he left the table, leaving his unfinished bowl on the table for Fukuzawa to no doubt deal with. As Ranpo stood, the chair scraped against the floor harshly, the noise grating on Fukuzawa’s fraying nerves.

He couldn’t stop himself. “I understand if you need space because you are upset, but there is no need to lash out like this.”

Ranpo paused just before the hallway and looked over his shoulder, glaring at Fukuzawa, who did his best to return the glare with a calm look. He already regretted the words he’d said as they’d left his mouth, knowing that responding to Ranpo’s sour mood with his own was just going to cause an argument that would leave the both of them feeling awful. Yet, Fukuzawa was tired. Tired of constantly cleaning up after Ranpo, tired of trying to figure out what was going through the kids’ head.

Mostly, he was just tired of parenting.

Deep down, Fukuzawa knew that this was just how the whole parenting gimmick worked; after all, he’d heard about it all from Kimiko and the others over time.

“Children love nothing more than to make our lives hell, but we keep loving and guiding them regardless. That’s just what being a parent is. It’s never the child’s fault when they act out, it’s ours for failing to understand them. Even if the reasons don’t always make sense.”

The sound of a door slamming drew Fukuzawa from his thoughts and he realized that Ranpo had gone back to his room, leaving him alone to a silent house. Fukuzawa sighed, bringing one hand up so that he could rest his hand on it as he pondered over how to handle this. This wasn’t the first time that the two of them had had a disagreement, and he had a feeling that it wouldn’t be the last, but still… something about this disagreement seemed different.

But he couldn’t put a finger on what it was.

Fukuzawa sighed and stood to put away the dishes before he retired to his own room to sleep.

Tomorrow would be a better day. He was certain of it.

When Fukuzawa woke the next morning, he strongly considered staying in bed considering it felt like the entire apartment had turned to ice overnight. He could’ve sworn he’d turned the heating on before going to bed, but suddenly, he wasn’t sure if he had. Just as he was about to get up and check on the heating system, there was a knock on his door just seconds before it creaked open the tiniest bit.

“The heating’s busted.” Ranpo’s head poked around the corner of the door as he stared down at Fukuzawa, looking just as cold as Fukuzawa felt.

Well, that explains why its so cold. “I see. I’ll take a look in a moment.”

“What you don’t believe me that it’s broken?” Fukuzawa blinked at Ranpo’s words, recognizing the tone as an unhappy one. Suddenly, the optimism that he’d had last night that today would be a better day was gone, replaced by exhaustion once again.

“That’s not what I meant.” Fukuzawa got up from his futon walking over to his closet to grab out something warm to wear. From the corner of his eye, he could see Ranpo shivering and grabbed another hoodie, chucking it in the kid’s direction. “I’ll simply take a look and see if I can fix it. If not, I’ll call someone to come take a look.”

“It’s busted busted though.” Ranpo said as he pulled on the hoodie over his sleepwear.

Fukuzawa paused. “What did you do?”

“Why do you think I did something?” A defensive note crept into Ranpo’s voice, and he crossed his arms across his chest. “It went out during the night, and I woke up cold. So I looked at it.”

“And?”

Ranpo shrugged. “It’s broken.”

“Ranpo.”

“What?” Ranpo snapped, lifting his gaze from where it had been focused on the floor to glare at Fukuzawa. “What do you want me to say? It’s not like I broke it. All I did was try and fix it and it didn’t work.”

“That’s all you had to say, not make me play guessing games with you.” Fukuzawa snapped back, pushing past Ranpo to leave his room. “There’s no need to get angry with me when I don’t immediately understand what you’re trying to tell me either.”

“I’m not angry.” Ranpo said as he followed Fukuzawa down the hall.

“Really? You’ve been snapping since I got back from the bakery yesterday, so excuse me for believing otherwise.”

“I had a bookcase fall on me, of course I wasn’t going to be happy about it.” Ranpo stopped in the middle of the living room. “And then you barged in when I told you not to and started looking at me like I was stupid!”

“Ranpo—”

“And then when I tried to give myself space, you kept bothering me!” Ranpo continued, pretending as if Fukuzawa hadn’t even tried to say anything. “I don’t need you judging me, I’ve had enough of that from everyone else in my life!”

“Ranpo!” Fukuzawa yelled, shutting the boy up before he could continue on his rant. Fukuzawa studied the way that Ranpo’s fists were clenched tight, shaking slightly from the tension within them, and how his bangs were carefully obstructing his eyes from view. Fukuzawa took a breath, trying to calm himself, even though his voice still came out rather terse. “Do not yell to make your point. Go cool off. When you are calm, we can talk.”

“Whatever.” Ranpo pushed past Fukuzawa, making his way towards the front door. Fukuzawa let him go, watching Ranpo pull his shoes on and leave, wincing at the loud slam that followed. And sighed. This was not how he’d imagined his morning going, not in the slightest, and he found himself staring at the door, wondering how it had gone so wrong in the first place.

Fukuzawa moved to sit on the couch, tipping his head to rest against the back of it as he thought back on Ranpo’s words. There had to be some kind of hint within what Ranpo had said that would enlighten Fukuzawa as to what was bothering his ward, yet the longer Fukuzawa thought on it, the more confused he was. He recalled Ranpo saying that he’d been upset by the falling bookcase—which was fair, and completely understandable—but Fukuzawa couldn’t understand what had caused the bad mood to last so long. Only Ranpo would be able to tell him just what it was that had upset him, so Fukuzawa resigned himself to waiting for Ranpo’s return, preparing himself for what to say.

Midday came, and Ranpo wasn’t home.

Sunset arrived, and still, Ranpo wasn’t home.

Fukuzawa tried to stop himself from worrying. It wasn’t the first time that Ranpo had been gone an entire day, even though they didn’t happen all that often, so he sat on the couch and watched the clock as time ticked by. He’d give Ranpo until the time they usually had dinner before he started worrying.

It was nine o’clock and Ranpo hadn’t walked through the door.

The worry that Fukuzawa had carefully buried sprung free, washing over him along with a feeling of absolute dread. Unable to stay sitting, he began to pace, pressing his phone to his ear as he dialled Ranpo’s number, only to freeze as he heard the device begin to ring from the kid’s room. His heart began to pound, so loud that he could hear it in his ears, feel it trying to escape from his chest. He took a breath to calm himself.

But he couldn’t stop the worry from turning into fear.

Ranpo was outside, alone, with no way of contacting him.

I have to find him. The thought was quick, and barely processed before Fukuzawa was flying around the house, pulling on his warmest clothing while also making sure he grabbed an extra jacket, remembering that Ranpo hadn’t gotten dressed before he’d left and that the nights were almost winter temperatures despite it still being early fall. He took the time to scribble a quick note just in case Ranpo happened to come home while he was gone and left the apartment, shutting the door, but leaving it unlocked.

He'd be scolded for it later, he was almost certain of it, but in that moment, all Fukuzawa could care about was finding Ranpo and apologizing to the kid. What for, he still didn’t know, but maybe the chill in the air would help him figure it out.

Where are you, Ranpo? Fukuzawa turned down yet another street after the one he’d just checked had yielded no results, the same as all the usual spots Fukuzawa had checked that Ranpo might’ve been hiding at. The man let out a shiver as a gust of wind chilled him right to the bone. At this point he didn’t care if Ranpo never forgave him for what it was that he’d done, just so long as he found the boy safe and sound.

But it had been an hour since Fukuzawa had started searching, and his fear was starting to turn into barely restrained panic. What was he supposed to do if he couldn’t find Ranpo? He’d have to call the police, that much was certain, but what could he say? Ranpo was a teenager, and it seemed to be common knowledge amongst law enforcement that teens often ran away from home, so what would stop them from just brushing Fukuzawa’s worry off like he shouldn’t be worried about the child he’d promised to protect being out on the streets alone.

If he got desperate, there was one person he could call for help, but he’d rather not indebt himself to a certain underground doctor if he didn’t have to.

And really, what would it say about Fukuzawa if he had to rely on someone else to find Ranpo for him? He’d taken pride in how he’d managed to come to understand the boy he’d taken in—even though it had taken a long time—and a part of him was confident that he could find Ranpo. Even if he was mad, Ranpo wouldn’t have wandered too far, that much Fukuzawa knew at least. But he’d checked every—

He paused.

There was one place he’d neglected to check, a place that the two of them had only visited once and while within walking distance from their apartment, was still further than Ranpo was comfortable travelling, especially on his own.

But he had nothing else to go off, so without another thought, Fukuzawa turned on his heel and to walk, hoping that he was right.

And he was.

Fukuzawa let out a sigh of relief, feeling the fear that had kept him going these past hours draining out of him, leaving him with just exhaustion and relief. The small park that rose to meet him was a welcome sight, as was the lone figure curled up against the lone cherry blossom tree that stood in the middle. The park was a little hidden gem that he and Ranpo had discovered while exploring the neighbourhood after they’d just moved in; a peaceful little place not big enough for children to play in, so it was left alone for the most part. In reality, it was just a walking path, used to get from one point to another without having to walk to the end of the street and back down another, but to the two of them, it was a park, a place to come to when one needed time to gather their thoughts.

There were other trees along the path, guiding people along, but the lone cherry blossom stood off from the rest of them, on a small rise that made it just that little bit taller than the others. It was almost as if it had been planted and forgotten about long ago, left to grow, alone and isolated from the other trees. Or maybe it had been here first, and the other trees had been planted after it? Who was to say?

Regardless, that lone tree had been there for the two of them just as much as they had been for each other. Fukuzawa carefully made his way over towards the tree, unable to stop the frown that adorned his face when he saw the shivers running through Ranpo’s body. Ranpo was curled up as small as he could make himself, hugging himself tight to conserve what little warmth he still had, and the hood of Fukuzawa’s hoodie pulled over his head, hiding his face from view.

Even though he had brought along a coat for this specific purpose, Fukuzawa found himself shrugging off his own coat and crouching to drape it over Ranpo’s shoulders. Immediately, Ranpo huddled into the warmth, drawing the coat around himself tighter. Fukuzawa didn’t hesitate to layer the second coat over the top, letting it cover Ranpo’s head even more.

“I’m sorry.” Fukuzawa said as he continued to crouch.

A singular green eye looked at him as Ranpo lifted his head slightly, an unreadable look on his face. A few minutes of silence passed before Ranpo finally spoke. “Why are you sorry?”

“I don’t know.” Fukuzawa admitted. “I understand I upset you somehow, but I do not know what I did.”

Ranpo hummed. He dropped his head again.

Fukuzawa waited patiently.

“It’s stupid.” Ranpo finally said.

“It’s not stupid if it made you run away.”

Ranpo’s head moved again, and Fukuzawa was graced with the presence of both eyes this time, rimmed in red. Ranpo had been crying. “Then you’ll think it’s stupid.”

“Tell me anyway.” Fukuzawa said, shifting so that he could sit on the ground, ignoring how cold it was. He was more than willing to endure a bit of cold if it led to Ranpo opening up to him.

Ranpo fidgeted for some time, deep in thought as he tried to gather his words together. It wasn’t often that Ranpo found it hard to say what it was that he wanted to, but even someone as blunt as him could be rendered speechless at times.

Let him be the one to guide the conversation. The words filtered into his mind, advice he’d been given once when first learning how to navigate parenting, advice that had so far, not failed him when he’d needed it. So Fukuzawa continued to wait.

“You looked at me like I was stupid.” Ranpo said quietly.

Fukuzawa frowned, confused. Had he? “When did I do that?”

“When the bookcase fell.” Ranpo hunched in on himself. “You looked at me like I was stupid.”

But it was stupid. Fukuzawa found himself thinking, not that he dared to voice his thoughts. Instead, he tried to recall just what kind of face he’d been making at the time, but couldn’t quite remember. He was almost certain that it hadn’t been the expression that Ranpo had thought he’d seen. “If that was how it looked to you in the moment, then I apologize. However, it was foolish to not think through climbing the bookcase. You could’ve been hurt.”

“I know that, now.”

“But that’s not the only reason, is it? Why you were angry, I mean.”

Ranpo shook his head. “I got angry when you came into my room. When I told you no. And then you kept pushing when I was trying to think and I got mad.”

“Ah…”

“Told you it was stupid.”

“It’s not.” It was Fukuzawa’s turn to shake his head. “You had every right to be upset when I entered your room when you didn’t want me to. I apologize for that. But what about this morning? When you left the house.”

“Insecurities.” Was all Ranpo said, and was the only answer Fukuzawa needed. Everyone had their moments where their inner demons got the better of them, and Ranpo’s demons of not being enough were no better. Ranpo must’ve been trying to get back onto Fukuzawa’s good side when the heating had gone down by trying to fix it, only to have it not go the way he’d planned and end up feeling worse as a result. Which explained why the boy had been so quick to anger at the time.

“I understand.” And Fukuzawa did, which was why he was more than happy to leave the conversation at that. “How about we go home? You must be freezing.”

Ranpo nodded, accepting Fukuzawa’s hand to pull himself upright, wrapping the jackets around him more as he shivered. “Did you get the heating fixed?”

“I forgot to after our argument. I’ll call them in the morning. There should be some more blankets if you need them.” Fukuzawa said, just barely catching the way Ranpo’s face fell at his words. He let out a quiet sigh and crouched in front of Ranpo, an obvious invitation. “Or if you want, you can sleep in my room.”

A cold, but slowly warming weight draped itself across Fukuzawa’s back, and the older man stood, making sure Ranpo was secure before he started walking. “’kay. Can we have hot chocolate when we get back?”

“I’ll make some.”

-----

Shopping was by far, the worst thing in existence. Fukuzawa found it hard to believe that there were actually people that enjoyed going out to the busy shopping centres and browsing the stores there for hours on end. If people just came out and bought what they needed, then the shopping experience would be so much better in his opinion. Fukuzawa sighed as he dodged yet another group of students loitering in the middle of the walkway, chatting with each other almost like there was literally nowhere else for them to do so. But Fukuzawa kept his head down and didn’t say anything. The longer he remained in the centre, the more his sanity would decline.

Normally, he didn’t need to set foot in the local shopping centre, everything he needed could usually be found at the small convenience store or at the weekly markets. But unfortunately, clothes were one thing that couldn’t be found at either of those, so he’d braved the crowds—after school hours no less—and walked around the many clothing stores, trying to find clothing that catered to his ward’s tastes.

Because Ranpo refused to set foot in such a crowded place unless it was for work, and the boy had been very firm in telling Fukuzawa that shopping for clothes was not a good enough reason. Fukuzawa had tried to argue that Ranpo come along to at least try on the clothes he was buying, but still, Ranpo had stood his ground, going as far as to shut himself away in the bathroom until Fukuzawa had given up and asked for measurements so he could at least buy the right size clothing.

Fukuzawa couldn’t wait to get out of the building so he could go home; all he had to left to do was buy socks, which should’ve been the easiest task of them all, but no, he had to buy the right kind of socks because if they were wrong then Ranpo was nothing if not fussy about what kind of socks he wore. Well, he was fussy about everything he wore, but when it came to socks, the fussiness was dialled to the extreme; it tended to drive Fukuzawa up the wall, yet he still did it anyway.

Because he cared.

The next time Ranpo tried to argue that Fukuzawa didn’t care enough, he was going to make the boy do his own clothes shopping.

The store he needed came into few and Fukuzawa relaxed. Finally, he would be done and free to go home. Quickly, he tracked down the nearest staff member and watched as their face went from ready to help, to mildly horrified as he asked them for twenty pairs of a specific pair of socks, which they thankfully had in stock. Just as fast as he’d gotten the socks, he paid for them and promptly fled the store, mentally hoping that the next time he had to set foot inside, it would have new staff that wouldn’t remember him and his request. Look at me… a former swordsman shopping for socks of all things.

Fukuzawa felt his phone buzz in his pocket and pulled it out, seeing that Ranpo had messaged him. He stared at the notification for a couple of minutes, steeling himself for what the message may contain; the phone buzzing once more with another message. He flipped it open.

[16:43]

Greatest Detective: Are you still shopping?

[16:45]

Greatest Detective: Don’t ignore me.

Cat Dad: I am. Did you need something?

Fukuzawa bit back a sigh at seeing the nickname Ranpo had changed his name to, vowing to change it back when it got a chance to, although cat dad was certainly better than the original old man he’d started off with. He watched as the text bubble indicating Ranpo was typing popped up and then disappeared, repeating itself several times. Fukuzawa narrowed his eyes at his phone; Ranpo was delaying in telling him, which meant one of two things. One, he’d broken or lost something that he needed replaced, or two, it was going to be something stupid.

Bzzt. Finally.

[16:50]

Greatest Detective: Bandages.

Cat Dad: What did you do?

Greatest Detective: Nothing hospital worthy.

Fukuzawa sighed, turning away from the entrance he’d been making his way towards, heading towards the pharmacy he’d passed by earlier. He tapped out a response.

[16:51]

Cat Dad: I’ll get some. Don’t move until I get home.

“I hope you know how lucky you were.” Fukuzawa said as he dabbed Ranpo’s face with a damp cloth, carefully wiping away the blood that marred the kid’s face and apologizing when he winced. “How did you even fall off the balcony in the first place?”

Ranpo kicked his foot anxiously against the cupboard door; Ranpo sitting on the kitchen bench rather than a chair because it had been easier for Fukuzawa to clean up the boy’s wounds if he was at eye level. Fukuzawa was honestly impressed that after falling from their second story apartment, that Ranpo had only come away with minor injuries; a sprained wrist being the worst of the injuries, although the amount of blood had nearly given Fukuzawa a heart attack. Wiping away most of the blood had revealed a few cuts and lots of scrapes that could be easily treated with some antiseptic and band aids.

“I didn’t mean to.” Ranpo huffed, jerking away when Fukuzawa was a little too rough. Fukuzawa apologized before lightening his touch. “I was sitting outside and the wind caught one of my cases, so I tried to catch it, and went over the balcony.”

Fukuzawa sucked in a breath, knowing exactly how much worse this little accident could’ve been. He pulled back, chucking the bloodied cloth in the sink to be disposed of later before he grabbed a plaster to put on Ranpo’s cheek. “You are lucky.” He repeated.

“I know. Don’t need to remind me.”

Fukuzawa nodded, and instead gestured towards Ranpo’s wrist. “How’s the swelling?”

Ranpo pulled away the bag of frozen peas—because apparently the ice pack Fukuzawa had thought they’d owned had vanished—and Fukuzawa gently took the injured limb into his gentle grasp, the irony that it was the same wrist that Ranpo had broken years ago not lost on him. “It doesn’t look too bad. I’ll wrap it for now and we’ll see how it goes.”

A nod was the only response he got, so Fukuzawa let the silence continue has he pulled out the bandages he’d only just bought and began to wrap them around Ranpo’s wrist, making sure that they weren’t too tight, but not too loose either.

Once he was done, he stepped back to admire his handiwork, and nodded. “All done. No more balconies, okay?”

“Yes, Fukuzawa-san.” Ranpo sighed, shimmying off the bench and cleaning up the medical supplies, putting them back in the first aid kit where they belonged, while Fukuzawa went about preparing that night’s dinner. The silence between the two of them lasted approximately two minutes before Ranpo started speaking again. “Did you go check out that building that that Natsume guy told you about?”

“I did. It’s not the entire building, only the fourth floor, but it’s in a good location. It has a café below it.”

“A café?” Ranpo’s eyes lit up in delight as he spun to face Fukuzawa, looking like Christmas had come early. And well, when sweets were involved, it may as well have been. “You didn’t eat there without me, did you?”

Fukuzawa raised an eyebrow and gave Ranpo a look. “Of course not. I want you to see the building anyway before I confirm anything, so you can come with me next time and we’ll get lunch there. How does that sound?”

Ranpo grinned up at him without saying anything, the smile more than enough to bring a smile to Fukuzawa’s own face. “Is that enough bribery to get you to help with dinner?”

“Nope!”

Why is it so busy? How do all these people live in Yokohama? Fukuzawa grimaced as he bumped against another passenger that was standing inches away from him. The passenger threw him a dirty look before inching away, but where he intended to go, Fukuzawa didn’t know because the train was cramped, filled with people on their way to work, and students on their way to school. He’d completely forgotten about the morning rush that day as he’d dragged Ranpo out of bed and out of the house with the intention of seeing the potential building they would use as a base for their detective agency, and he was very much regretting not waiting an extra hour. The only consolation was that most of the crowd should empty by the next stop… hopefully.

“Ouch! Watch where you’re standing if you’re gonna lose your balance like that!” Ranpo’s voice snapped, and Fukuzawa refocused his attention on the present. Ranpo had been separated from him when they’d gotten on the train, but he was still close enough that if Fukuzawa really wanted to, he could reach across people and grab him. Right now, though, Ranpo was glaring up at a tall businessman that threatened to tower over Fukuzawa, cradling his injured wrist against his chest. There was a slightly pained look to the boy’s face, and it didn’t take long for Fukuzawa to put together that the man had bumped into his wrist.

“Maybe you shouldn’t stand so close if you don’t want to be stepped on, kid.” The man growled, leaning over in a way that had Ranpo leaning back to avoid him. Ranpo’s eyes widened just the tiniest amount, and Fukuzawa saw his throat move as he swallowed uneasily.

Oh no you don’t. “Excuse me.” Fukuzawa said gently as he began to move, carefully navigating between disgruntled passengers before he came to a stop behind Ranpo, dropping one hand on the kids’ shoulder, while the other went to grab a hold of the grip. His eyes met that of the businessman “Is there a problem, sir?”

The businessman, who did indeed tower over Fukuzawa, lifted his gaze to glare at Fukuzawa, who was more than happy to return it. He wasn’t called the Silver Wolf for nothing after all. The two stared at each other intensely, other passengers looking at them warily and edging away where possible. Finally, the man looked away. “Tch. There’s no problem. Teach your kid some manners.”

“Manners? It’s you—” Fukuzawa squeezed Ranpo’s shoulder warningly to stop him from continuing.

“It’s not worth it.” He said, shifting so that he was between the man and Ranpo. “You alright?”

Ranpo seemed to deflate, the tension Fukuzawa hadn’t noticed until he’d been standing behind him leaving his body a little, although he still appeared to be on edge. Ranpo let go of the grip in favour of holding onto Fukuzawa’s yukata. “I’m fine.” He said, his fist tightening its grip. “He knocked my wrist, that’s all.”

Fukuzawa nodded. “Just stay close, we’ll be there soon.”

Ranpo nodded and stepped closer to Fukuzawa, hiding away from the world in the only way he seemed to know how. Not that Fukuzawa minded, as he wrapped his free arm around Ranpo’s shoulders. Thankfully, the train began to slow, coming to a stop and Fukuzawa felt like he could breathe again as the train began to empty; new passengers embarking, but as the train started off again, it was clear in the way everyone seemed more relaxed, that it was much emptier than before.

Small mercies.

After another twenty minutes, they reached their stop, and Fukuzawa guided Ranpo off the train and away from the rest of the crowd. “Show me your wrist.” Fukuzawa said once he’d found a quiet place.

Ranpo looked up at him with a confused look, but offered the limb up anyway. “What, do you think a little bump is going to make it worse? As if. I’m not that fragile.”

“I’m just making sure.” Fukuzawa explained, ignoring Ranpo’s ‘fragile’ comment entirely, satisfied when the bandages seemed to be as tight as they had been when he’d wrapped the limb that morning. “Let’s go.”

“Ah, can we…” Ranpo started before trailing off.

Fukuzawa looked over his shoulder, a touch concerned when he noticed Ranpo seemed paler than before. “What is it?”

“Can we wait a minute? For the crowds to leave, I mean.”

Fukuzawa looked over at the crowds in question, and for once, was more than happy to adhere to Ranpo’s request. There were a lot of people leaving and entering the station, more than he was willing to force his way through. It would be far easier on the both of them if they waited for the crowd to thin before continuing on their way. “Sure, the buildings not going anywhere. We can wait.”

As it turned out, the crowds within the station were not exclusive to the station, because when Fukuzawa and Ranpo finally managed to get out of the station, the streets were just as busy. There were people literally everywhere, and it was admittedly, a little disorienting. He could feel Ranpo’s grip on his clothes tighten as a huge crowd of workers bustled around them, carrying on without a care in the world. Is there something happening? Fukuzawa frowned, making sure he had a hold of Ranpo as he guided the boy down the street, doing his best to avoid them running into other people. The crowds continued to grow, people chattering excitedly as they walked in the same direction.

“Can we find another route?” Ranpo’s quiet voice was almost drowned out by the cacophony of the crowd; if not for Fukuzawa keeping an ear out for his ward, he wouldn’t have heard the words at all.

And Fukuzawa would’ve loved to have taken another route that would take them away from the crowds, but this was the only route he knew—for now at least, he’d make sure to learn other routes in case this happened again—and he didn’t particularly want to drag out the commute any longer than necessary. “This is the only way, I’m afraid. Just bear with it a little longer.”

There was a reason why Fukuzawa left Ranpo behind when going into overly crowded areas.

Ranpo’s knuckles were white where they were clutching at him.

Pushing Ranpo in front of him, Fukuzawa began to force his way through the crowd, using his taller frame to carve a path. The crowd had steadily been building, and as they rounded a corner, Fukuzawa realized why there had been such a large group of people gathering. How convenient, that on the one day he brought Ranpo with him, it would also be the same day as the opening of the new shopping complex a few streets down from their destination. Fukuzawa’s pace slowed, natural-born curiosity causing him to look over at the shiny new building.

Several things happened then.

Loud cheers erupted from the gathered people.

Ranpo fell to his knees, clapping his hands over his ears, eyes squeezed together.

The doors to the building opened.

In a split second, Fukuzawa made a decision and reached down to wrap a hand around Ranpo’s upper arm and pull, forcibly dragging the boy to his feet. Normally, he wouldn’t be so rough, coaxing Ranpo into moving rather than forcing him, but once the crowd began to move, it was no longer about comfort, but making sure that Ranpo didn’t get trampled. Fukuzawa was quick, pulling Ranpo close and fighting against the tide. All the while, Ranpo stumbled behind him, eyes shut and body trembling.

Finally, the crowd opened up, and the two of them were free from people, but still, Fukuzawa didn’t stop moving. He kept dragging Ranpo behind him until he spotted a public bathroom, dragging the two of them into the safety of the empty—thankfully—building. It was then that Ranpo jerked away from him, falling to the ground, and curling into a ball, the emotions he’d been holding back breaking free. Tears rolled down his cheeks, and his breathing turned into a stuttering mess. He was panicking, and Fukuzawa could do nothing but watch.

Such an event had happened before, not long after Fukuzawa had taken Ranpo in, where they’d been shopping for supplies after moving into their current apartment. Fukuzawa hadn’t been able to recognize the signs at first, chalking up Ranpo’s hesitance of entering the building as more of a reluctance. But the shopping centre had been busy that day, and Ranpo had frozen stiff when they’d wound up in a particularly busy section. Ranpo had frozen for exactly ten seconds before the emotions had exploded out of him, and he’d become a panicked mess; Fukuzawa near panic himself. In the end, he’d scooped Ranpo off the ground and fled the centre, which had made the panic worse, and he’d wound up being punched in the face by a small fist. It was the first time Fukuzawa had experienced a panic attack from Ranpo, and he’d been hoping to never experience another one.

But of course, he was never that lucky.

Fukuzawa sat on the floor near Ranpo, near enough so that his presence was known, but not close enough that he’d make the panic worse. After that day in the mall, Ranpo had described how the panic had felt to him—like he was being squeezed and suffocated at the same time by some unknown force.

“What helps?” Fukuzawa had asked.

“Nothing.” Ranpo had whispered in return.

After the first panic attack, Fukuzawa had read up on them, reading stories about what had helped other people, and advice for what to do if someone you knew was experiencing one, so theoretically, he knew he could probably help. But none of that advice was applicable to Ranpo, not when the boy himself didn’t know what helped him. So, Fukuzawa was left to watch as Ranpo gasped and choked on the air, body shaking so violently, it was closer to a seizure than panic; emotions running rampant throughout his body.

Fukuzawa frowned, trying to think of anything he could do to help. Supposedly touch helped some people calm down, the physical contact between two people grounding them to reality and reassuring them that they weren’t alone. He didn’t know if Ranpo would appreciate being touched, so Fukuzawa scooted just that little bit closer so that he could lay his hand beside Ranpo’s curled fist, his fingers brushing the others hand just enough to let him know it was there.

He was rewarded when Ranpo’s hand latched onto his own, squeezing tightly with strength he didn’t know Ranpo even had. Fukuzawa rubbed his thumb across smooth skin, brushing over the knuckles in a repetitive, soothing motion. As he did so, he took deep breaths, exaggerating them so that Ranpo could clearly hear him—he’d heard that that was another technique one could use during a panic attack—and after another minute or so of Ranpo breathing erratically, his breaths began to sync up to Fukuzawa’s own. Once or twice, Ranpo’s breath would hitch and pick up speed, but a quick squeeze of Fukuzawa’s hand stopped it from getting out of hand again.

Eventually, Ranpo unfurled from his balled-up position, although he didn’t make a move to get up off the floor. He was blinking dazedly at nothing in particular, and looked exhausted.

Fukuzawa tapped his thumb against the back of Ranpo’s hand, drawing the boy’s attention towards him. He kept his voice low. “How are you feeling?”

Ranpo blinked at him. “Tired.”

“Do you want to go home?” Fukuzawa asked.

The grip on his hand tightened momentarily before it relaxed. A small nod followed.

“Can I touch you?”

Another nod.

With a nod of his own, Fukuzawa gave a gentle tug, and Ranpo inched closer. Another tug brought the kid into his arms and Fukuzawa didn’t hesitate to stand, bringing Ranpo with him. One arm went around his neck and the other latched onto his yukata, a head burying itself into his shoulder. No words were said—not that they needed to be—as Fukuzawa strode out of the bathroom, his phone in hand to call a taxi to take them home. There was no way in hell he was going to risk taking the train back home, not with Ranpo still feeling the effects of being overwhelmed. Fukuzawa tightened his grip; he should’ve realized what was happening the moment Ranpo had asked him for a break.

Ranpo was good at hiding his discomfort, often believing that any weakness shown in public was a sign of him being different. After all, normal people didn’t have emotional breakdowns and panic attacks when the crowds got too large, according to Ranpo anyway. Fukuzawa had been quick to refute that argument, refusing to let it become a mindset. Some people loved crowds, and others hated them, and it didn’t matter which you were, anyone was at risk of being overwhelmed. Ranpo was unfortunately, just one of the people that was more at risk.

“We’ll go another day. Just focus on staying calm.” Fukuzawa soothed as he ran a hand through Ranpo’s hair when he felt another shiver against his leg. Thankfully, the two of them hadn’t had to wait long for a taxi, and despite the exuberant fare, Fukuzawa had asked the driver to take them back to the apartment. He’d winced at the final price—maybe he could convince Natsume-sensei to reimburse him under ‘work related expenses’—and left the driver behind after paying.

Now, they were both back home and safe, the apartment silent compared to the crowds they’d been subjected to. Ranpo was curled up on the couch beside him, facing the back of it with a blanket covering his entire body in an attempt to hide. Every now and then, Ranpo’s body would tremble, and every time, Fukuzawa would run a hand through his hair, repeating his earlier words. It was all he could do in that moment, when only time would be able to heal the damage caused today.

But that was okay, Fukuzawa was a patient man, so he’d sit for as long as he was needed, until Ranpo felt better.

-----

How could I let this happen? Fukuzawa sighed, leaning back in the chair he’d been sitting in for several hours now, unwilling to move no matter how many doctors and nurses told him to take a walk, or go home to shower. He couldn’t, not when he’d be going home to an empty apartment, not when Ranpo was lying right there, on the bed in front of him, hooked up to various tubes and wires, unable to come home with him.

They’d been working with the local police force on a case; a serial killer that had been targeting young men and woman, beating, and torturing them until they grew tired and slit the victim’s wrist, watching as they bled out in front of them, watching the life leave their eyes in some sick twisted fantasy only the killer could understand. Fukuzawa had only seen the one corpse, the one that had been the reason why he and Ranpo had been called out in the first place, and the sight of the poor boy’s mutilated corpse had managed to rattle even his steel resolve, leaving him with a nauseous feeling. Even Ranpo had looked disturbed once he’d gazed upon the corpse, faltering on their approach. But that had only lasted a moment before he’d continued on, determination on his face, ready to solve this case.

And solve it he had. Ranpo, in a way that Fukuzawa had long since grown used to, spat facts and evidence at the officers that hadn’t even picked up on in their initial scan of the crime scene like the crime itself was being replayed in front of him. Even after all these years, Fukuzawa was always in awe of the way Ranpo solved cases, and this one was no different. With barely any effort, Ranpo had deduced the methods and motives of the killer, and from there, the identity of the killer.

That was all it should’ve been.

But it wasn’t.

The killer had been watching from the crowd that had formed, had been waiting for Ranpo to appear on the scene to enact his carefully cultivated plan of revenge. Because while Ranpo had been able to deduce the motives behind the deaths of the other victims, he had somehow missed the trap lying behind the trail of corpses. Fukuzawa had watched, unable to react fast enough, as Ranpo and walked over to an unsuspecting elderly woman and revealed her identity as the murderer the police were looking for. The woman had simply done nothing more than stare, before a manic grin appeared and shots were fired.

Somehow, somehow, they’d missed the signs of a second murderer, the woman’s daughter on the roof of the building.

The shots had caused everyone to look towards the sound, some officers already running towards the building with their own guns drawn.

The distraction had been long enough for the elderly woman to pull out a knife and by the time Fukuzawa had refocused on her, the damage had already been done.

He was never going to forget the sight of Ranpo choking on his own blood.

Fukuzawa hadn’t even thought, flying towards the woman, knocking her unconscious with a well-placed hit, leaving her for the police to deal with while he’d gone to Ranpo’s side, putting pressure on the worst injury he could see; a bullet wound to the chest. Ranpo had looked up at him with wide eyes, expression one of fear. For years, Fukuzawa had feared for such a day, where he wouldn’t be able to act fast enough to stop a killer from harming Ranpo. For years, Fukuzawa had done his best to protect the boy under his care, only failing sometimes—although they’d only ever been minor injuries that could be treated at home.

This was—

This was—

It was the stuff of nightmares. Fukuzawa had shed a lot of blood over the years, taken many lives himself, and failed to save just as many. But this was different. This was a boy he’d chosen to protect, chosen to bring into his life and care for as if he was his own, despite knowing nothing about parenting. And now that boy was bleeding out in front of him, gasping and choking for air his lungs were unable to take in. One of Ranpo’s bloodied hands and come to clutch at his sleeve, his eyes not leaving Fukuzawa’s own. He’d been speaking to Ranpo, reassuring him that everything would be fine, all the while keeping pressure.

The sirens fast approaching had been a blessing in disguise, and Fukuzawa would be eternally grateful to the bystander’s that had called the ambulance.

How could I let this happen?

He’s still just a boy.

I failed him.

Those were the thoughts that swirled throughout Fukuzawa’s mind as he rode with the paramedics to the hospital, and those were the thoughts that followed him as he waited in the waiting room while Ranpo was rushed off to surgery. And those same three thoughts continued to ravage his mind, even as a kind nurse had crouched before him and cleaned his hands of Ranpo’s blood, reassuring him that everything would be fine, and that Ranpo was in capable hands. Empty words; Fukuzawa would only believe that Ranpo would be fine when he saw him with his own two eyes.

Which was how he’d ended up sitting in a hard plastic chair for hours on end, watching over Ranpo whilst machines kept him alive. Fukuzawa had almost panicked when the doctor had told him that, but the doctor—amazingly, the same one that had treated Ranpo every time they came to the hospital—had reassured him many times that Ranpo had simply been placed into a medical coma in order to give his body time to heal from the injuries he’d sustained.

“It’s just for a few days. The surgery was rough on him, so we want to give him some time to heal first before letting him wake up.”

That was what the doctor had said before leaving Fukuzawa to his thoughts, and since then, Fukuzawa hadn’t moved. One of the nurses had been kind enough to bring Fukuzawa something to eat during the night, but he’d barely been able to stomach the simple meal, far too focused on the fact that Ranpo could’ve died—could still die. Fukuzawa sighed, leaning over so that he could rest his arms on the bed, one of his hands reaching over to cover one of Ranpo’s own, taking care to avoid jostling the IV in his hand. He allowed his head to rest on top of the covers and felt his eyes begin to close; there was no hope in him sleeping, but he could at least rest his eyes.

Just for a little while.

“Fukuzawa-san, are you sure you don’t want to go home, even just for an hour?” One of the nurses assigned to Ranpo’s care asked him as she flitted about the room, carefully checking on Ranpo’s healing wounds without so much as disturbing the boy.

“I’m fine here.” Fukuzawa said, watching her work. “It’s been—”

“Only three days.” The nurse interrupted him, giving Fukuzawa a kind smile, one that he was sure was effective in soothing her patients. “I know the waiting game is hard, Fukuzawa-san, but do your best to be patient. His injuries are healing well, and we were able to remove the intubation tube this morning. I’m certain Ranpo-san will wake up when he’s ready.”

What if he’s never ready to wake up? Fukuzawa couldn’t help but remember the way frightened, green eyes stared at him. It was the most frightened Fukuzawa had ever seen Ranpo look, and, well, what if Ranpo was too scared to wake up? What if his mind was somehow warning him that it wasn’t safe for him to wake up yet, and that was why he was still unconscious?

“Fukuzawa-san.” He looked up again, not having realized he’d dropped his head, into the nurses’ eyes. “Go home. Take a shower, and have something to eat. I’m about to go on break, so I can sit with him until you return.”

Despite every fibre of his being screaming at him to not leave, Fukuzawa gave a resigned nod, standing from the chair, ignoring the way the world swirled around him briefly from having been sat in the same position for so long. He really did not want to leave Ranpo alone, but he knew that if Ranpo woke up and found out he’d been neglecting his own health, the kid would give him a lecture.

“You always tell me to stop and take care of myself, so you need to do the same!”

“I’ll be back in an hour.” Fukuzawa promised as he left the room, Ranpo’s hypothetical words on his mind as he did so.

Another two days passed without Ranpo waking, and Fukuzawa had fallen into a routine with the night shift nurses. Before their shift would start, one of them would come and sit with Ranpo while he went home and took care of himself before returning to his post by Ranpo’s bedside where he would remain until the next night shift started. Despite the fact that the nurses had every authority to throw him out of the hospital once visiting hours were technically over, they never did; allowing him to sit vigil every night, for which he was grateful. It was better than the one night he’d gone home and fallen asleep when he’d sat on the couch; he’d been plagued by nightmares of being too late, and the sounds of choking, the smell of blood as pungent as if he’d been bathing in it.

He made sure not to fall asleep unless he was by Ranpo’s bedside since then, the boy’s presence enough to reassure his subconscious into giving him a dreamless sleep—if he slept at all, that is.

Ranpo’s injuries were healing slowly, but surely, according to the doctor that had visited that morning, and he’d been able to be moved to his own room instead of remaining in intensive care, no longer at risk of dying, not unless the world decided to be particularly vengeful towards a boy whose biggest fault was his addiction to sweets. The only thing they were waiting for, was for Ranpo to regain consciousness.

The doctor’s had told him that despite being unconscious, it was quite possible that Ranpo would be able to hear and feel things still; they’d said that comatose patients could often recall when visitors touched them, or spoken to them—not full memories, but partial ones—and that knowledge had been enough for Fukuzawa to bring a book back with him to read, along with the soft blanket from Ranpo’s bed. He’d worried they wouldn’t allow the blanket, but the nurse on duty had taken one look at it and helped him tuck it around Ranpo’s still form.

Right now, he was reading out loud, having pushed his chair next to the head of the bed so he could read quietly. One of his hands was resting in its usual spot atop of Ranpo’s own, a comforting presence that Ranpo could hopefully feel wherever he was. Fukuzawa wasn’t really paying attention to the book, his attention focused more on the beeping of the heart monitor and the rise and fall of Ranpo’s chest, but he did his best, keeping up a steady stream of words.

“Mmhm.” The sound was soft, but in the silence of the room, it may as well have been a gunshot, and Fukuzawa’s attention was no longer on the book, instead he stared at the boy in the bed, waiting, hoping, that what he’d heard hadn’t been a part of his imagination.

One eye cracked open, and Fukuzawa let out the breath he’d been holding upon seeing that brilliant green that he hadn’t seen in nearly a week. He kept quiet, staying calm, even as the eye drifted shut again, a soft sigh falling from Ranpo’s mouth. Fukuzawa felt tears form in his own eyes and fought to keep them falling. There would be time to shed tears later, but for now, he’d rejoice in the fact that Ranpo had woken up, albeit for not even minute.

The weight crushing his chest vanished.

It wasn’t until that evening, just as the doctor had done his usual check before going home, that Ranpo properly woke up. Because, of course he couldn’t wake up at a convenient time. The doctor had literally just left the room when Ranpo’s eyes—both of them this time—opened and fell to look at Fukuzawa. Fukuzawa had clasped Ranpo’s hand gently, giving it a squeeze as he called for the doctor. As the doctor scurried back into the room, Fukuzawa smiled at Ranpo.

“Welcome back.”

“Did you cry over me?” Ranpo asked as he shoved another spoonful of pudding into his mouth, gazing at Fukuzawa curiously, even though it came off more as if he was staring straight into Fukuzawa’s soul. It was rather daunting to be subjected to that gaze usually, but just for today, he welcomed it.

“I think anyone would cry when someone is bleeding out in front of them.” Fukuzawa said from his spot on the edge of the bed. After Ranpo had woken up and been examined by the doctor, the detective had claimed—demanded—he was hungry, so Fukuzawa had left the room to track down something simple for Ranpo to eat. He’d come back with a few tubs of pudding, and Ranpo had already eaten three of them while Fukuzawa watched in mild disgust. But considering all of Ranpo’s nutrients had had to be delivered via the IV in his hand, he kept his mouth shut and let the kid enjoy his pudding.

Ranpo was awake and talking, and that was more than Fukuzawa could ask for.

“Yeah well, I know that. But it’s you. You don’t cry.” Ranpo argued, pointing the spoon in his direction. “And I don’t remember what happened after I was shot, so tell me. Did you cry?”

Fukuzawa sighed. “Yes, Ranpo, I did cry. But only once I was alone in the waiting room wondering whether or not you were going to live or die.”

Ranpo nodded, satisfied, and then promptly changed the subject. “So, what happened to them?”

“To who?”

“To the murderers. You know, the ones that shot and stabbed me? I know shock makes you forget things, but surely you didn’t forget that much.” Ranpo said, and then proceeded to shove the rest of the pudding into his mouth, passing the empty cup back to Fukuzawa before taking the last cup and opening it.

“They were arrested of course. They have been charged for their crimes. After nearly killing you, they confessed pretty quick to everything.” Fukuzawa paused, debating on whether or not he should continue when Ranpo threw him an impatient look. “Their target was you all along.”

“Well, duh, I knew that.”

“Of course you did. But do enlighten me.”

“Well.” Ranpo paused to eat some more pudding. “Most of the killers and criminals we go after don’t tend to target me because I’m me, so when I saw the kind of people those two were killing, it didn’t take long for me to realize that they were targeting me. The old woman apparently had a son that killed himself when I revealed his crimes and she wasn’t very happy about that.”

“She can stay unhappy in jail.” Fukuzawa huffed, getting off the bed to throw away the empty cup in the bin before returning to Ranpo’s bedside.

“She won’t make it to jail.”

“Oh? What makes you say that?”

“She’s sick. Something incurable. I’d say she only had a few weeks left to live when she started killing. I dunno about the daughter though.” Ranpo finished explaining, tilting his head to the side. “I’m not quite sure what possessed her to help her mother kill people.”

“Sometimes, love for family can make people do stupid things.” Fukuzawa said, not all to certain himself what reasoning the daughter could’ve had. He was sure the police would figure it out though, so if he wanted to find out, he could just ask them at a later date.

“Ugh, sounds terrible. Why would you kill a bunch of people just because your parents asked you to? If you told me to kill someone, I’d just call the cops.” Ranpo scrunched up his nose at the idea.

Fukuzawa rolled his eyes. “Well, it’s a good thing I don’t plan on asking you to kill someone then. But I will ask you to behave nicely when the nurses come to give you a shower today, though. We don’t need a repeat of last night’s incident.”

Ranpo’s face flushed a brilliant scarlet at Fukuzawa’s words and he turned away from his guardian to stare at the wall. “It’s embarrassing. I don’t like it. And I don’t need their help in taking a shower.”

“You can’t even lift your arms above your chest.” Fukuzawa argued. He’d stepped out of the room while the nurses came to change Ranpo’s dressings the previous night, only to return to a commotion from the bathroom. A cry of pain from Ranpo had sent Fukuzawa running into the room, only to see exasperated nurses trying to pick Ranpo off the floor and put him back in the chair. Apparently, Ranpo hadn’t taken too kindly to their attempts to help him get clean, so he’d fought them, only to fall and nearly reopen his wounds. Once Fukuzawa’s heart had stopped trying to escape his chest, he’d told Ranpo to behave before leaving.

Ranpo had sulked the rest of the night, but at least he wasn’t a biohazard anymore.

“This is stupid.” Ranpo whined, leaning back against his mountain of pillows. “When can I go home?”

“When the doctor says you can.” Fukuzawa explained patiently, for what felt like the hundredth time. “This isn’t like that time you were sick, or when you broke your arm. You nearly died, so the doctors need to make sure everything’s fine before they send you home.”

“Ugh, but I’ve already been here, stuck in this bed for two—”

“Three. You were unconscious for a week.”

“—three weeks. I’m tired of being stuck in this room with nothing to do.”

“I’m sure it won’t be much longer. Just be patient.” Fukuzawa soothed.

“I have been.” Ranpo huffed, a sullen expression on his face. “I just want to go home.”

Fukuzawa reached over and ruffled Ranpo’s hair gently. “I know you do. How about I see if the nurses will let me take you outside for an hour or so today?”

And just like that, the sullen look was gone, replaced with a beaming smile that Fukuzawa was not immune to, as a smile grew on his own face. For the past two weeks, Ranpo had either been in pain, or too tired to engage with him, so to see an actual, genuine smile on his face was a relief to him; a sign that he was recovering from the injuries that had nearly claimed his life. It had been scary, watching Ranpo fight to live. The first week had been spent in a whirlwind of misery and ‘what ifs’ and the second and third weeks had been just as stressful, with Fukuzawa worrying about whether Ranpo was going to recover from his injuries or not.

But as the days passed, Ranpo grew stronger, and would continue to get stronger, until he regained the independence he’d lost upon being admitted into the hospital. It would take time, but no matter how long it took, he’d be there right by Ranpo’s side, supporting him in every way just as he had been since he’d adopted the boy.

Fukuzawa didn’t know what he’d have done if he’d had to bury Ranpo that day.

He hoped that such a day would never come.

No parent should have to bury their child after all.

[lunarsilkscreen]

Why did I leave the military

In 2010, the repeal of don't ask don't tell happened, which was a landslide victory for gay men. But for Queer people in general? Iffy ground.

For the entirety of my existence I knew what I was, am, are. But gender confirming social policy and social stigma means you can't talk about it. Like the first two rules of Fight Club.

It exists, but you don't talk about it. Because quote: "It's morally and objectively wrong to wear clothes of the opposite gender."

That's the Line you can't cross. And yes, this includes Kilts if you're outside of the Ireland/Scotland area.

So if you're further than that on the queer spectrum, you look ambiguous, people confuse you for another gender, or they just can't tell. That is a moral and personal failing. One corrected through Hairstyles, clothing, and gendered perfume flavours.

So if you're a genetic men and other men are confusing you for a women, and other (maybe sapphic) women want to date you. They can't acknowledge that.

Just "Oh, we can't do that thing at all".

But the talk will go on behind your back regardless.

Some people look like me are upset because they aren't seen as the Pinnacle of masculinity. A trait I also shared, but not really cause it felt good mind you. I wanted to be a women. Right? At the very least, I was OK with ambiguity.

"so why the F*? Would you join the military if it would put you in the box?"

Oh you know, GI. Jane, the existence of the "Tom Boy". Video Games.

Plus I had a lot of reasons I couldn't continue staying where I had grown up, or with my family, or even continue going to college the first time around despite having qualified for the MEAP{ Michigan Educational Assessment Program } which awarded money to kids just out of high school for excelling at a test that summed up the entire school education.

Quick Google search says it's the "M-STEP" now. I dunno how many other students qualified. I just know I qualified for that *on top* of tuition incentive program.

To which people understandable ask what happened?

It was going great, but I had no way to practice for driving test to get out there. Had a friend, friend promised would help me. Which made me start the aid process. But that process had a two year limit on it.

That two year limit on it, along with no driver's license along with unstable home life, along with losing that friendship, because her words; "you're a bum". Along with whatever other list of grievances she had with me. Meant I lost that second year of aid. Gone. I need to stop trusting people.

So unstable home life, depression, definitely queer, definitely no friends. A friend of mine was joining the Air Force. And I thought "F* it, YOLO".

The complex reasons? That instability. That lack of future. The paycheck. And the possibility that I *might* be able to pursue my dreams that way.

So why the F* would I leave that behind?

In the Air Force, we're taught to lead from the front. I dunno if that's the same way in other branches, I assume it is.

At that time I was falling apart mentally, the only thing keeping me going was this knowledge that life sucked on the outside, and there was, and still is nothing out here for me. I re-enlisted for a little while, got to do a desk job with a lot of programming. But I was still falling apart mentally.

And when I went to pursue the reasons why, There still wasn't anything that I could do about it. Just me, and deteriorating mental health. And being Vaguely Queer, but not really getting along with other queer people cuz the community sucks. (most communities suck, but the gatekeeping in the queer community is something else man.)

And then, the cherry on top was the Executive Order by President Trump that trans people should be banned from serving in the military.

Many queer people accuse me of this being the only reason for it. F* them. You know why? Gatekeeping.

Excuse me for leaving on my integrity.

I could've stayed just a few more months until the end of my enlistment and not had to burn a bridge. But I used my other disability, let's just say arthritis. Because there's a list. As an instant out.

I could've waited and had the same benefits you know.

I could've stayed in and had a fulfilling career. Well, maybe. There was talk of a thing I was supposed to be up for. But it wasn't real until the moment I left. It wouldn't have stopped me from leaving either way.

But it was; A presidential declaration that the My (and by extension the Military's) Mental Health did not matter in the slightest. And the possibility of going back to a Job, Airline Mechanic, on a devasting weapon that had already taken a toll on my mental health.

And I couldn't deal with both of those possibilities.

So I saved what I could in order to bide my time for a job.

And everybody that I could've relied on back home. In any facet, I ended up being unable to rely on them, and with declining mental health that also didn't matter to them; made a string of decisions that put me in a bind.

And with no friends, and no backup, and relatively no voice.

I decided to protest the U.S. government. And Trump himself for being a megaphone for the Evangelicalsm that hated me. Made my family reluctant to support me. And just overall being Dick's.

Because, unlike those actually in the "queer community" I took a risk.

One that friends and family took advantage of.

I would say "calculated" but I knew what the ultimate price would be. Because I know how people act. I know how jealous and hateful and spiteful they are.

And they haven't proven me wrong yet.

[away-ward]

Hey ko!

How do you think kaibanks' relationship would have played out if they moved away from thunder bay/ meridian city after they got married for a fresh start

hello~~

My understanding of KaiBanks isn't too deep, so don't take my opinions all that seriously.

"Fresh start" makes me think you may think that the source of their problems were Thunder Bay or the family, specifically Rika. However, I think they are ultimately the source of some of the problems we see. Even if they had moved away and detached themselves, their relationship would face similar problems.

Kai still starts a dojo/training center. It's what he knows, it's what he likes to do. The real estate thing is more a side hustle for him, because his friends really want to do it. He likes the idea of having stake in Thunder Bay, but I really don't think he would have done it on his own, unlike Michael, Damon, or possibly Will (though his motive is different than the other two). Real Estate is a good investment, but I mean specifically starting a business like a resort or owning a lot of property for the sake of owning it. I think Kai would be more deliberate with his purchases.

Nik would still manage the dojo and teach, because she's Kai's partner in everything. Even though she went to college, never once did she try to set out on her own. Even the Senator thing is similar to the real estate thing for Kai. Though she enjoys it, it isn't something she originally wanted for herself or was something she would have been motivated to do alone.

Mads still would have been born before Nik graduated, because they never once thought of birth control. Only now they won't have the help of Kai's parents, which might cause some additional stress on them. I think between Kai's insecurities surrounding his father and being a good son would play into his idea of what makes a good father. Ultimately, it would create room for doubt. Nik would need the help adjusting to motherhood since she'd only had bad examples. They'd really need to lean on each other.

You'd think with that and without their usual people around, they would solidify their relationship. Kai can't be distracted by Rika; therefore there's no reason for Nik to be jealous.

But Nik is jealous regardless. We saw that in Fire Night. I don't believe Kai has ever shown any interest in any of his students. He's maybe too nice and slow to firmly respond, but it's Kai's nature to be kind, especially to young women. I agree that he needed to be quicker and firmer, but I never once thought he was sincerely interested in anyone but his wife. And we know Kai hasn't stepped out of his marriage. Yet, Nik is still jealous of other women wanting her husband.

Kai is an attractive man. That's never going to change, no matter where they move. They would really need to work on Nik's insecurity, and unfortunately, it is not solely Kai's responsibility to stop her from being insecure. Nik needs to manage that feeling, understanding why Kai might respond the way he does. Likewise, Kai needs to learn to shut down any flirting because he knows how it would affect his wife. This is something they could do in Thunder Bay, they just haven't.

Maybe they like the friction it causes in their relationship? Michael and Rika like keeping secrets and fighting over them. So, along the same line, maybe Kai and Nik like her jealousy. Kai likes knowing she's still so obsessed it drives her crazy, and Nik likes when he chases her.

Overall, their relationship stays the same for the most part, because it is what they've made it, not pressure from external sources. But since I believe Kai and Nik are committed to each other, I believe they'll put in the work to make their marriage a success, no matter where they are or who they're with.

-Ko

Feel free to drop your opinion in the comments or ask box.

[eradicatetehnormal]

My Zoomer Ass Watched Pink Flamingos For the First Time

So, I think? I enjoyed that. My taste in media is what most would consider garbage, but relatively safe garbage. Stuff that's garbage in the sense that it's poorly written or executed, not in the sense that it's genuinely filthy. I mean, 90% of my blog is dedicated to a video game series with anime and Disney characters, so yeah, I was really out of my element here.

So first off, I really like the way the movie characterizes Divine in the beginning. The standout scene for me was her putting raw meat between her legs. I didn't get it at first, but I read an interpretation of that scene where the writer said that Divine is meant to be, well, filthy. She shits on femininity and leaks nasty body fluids. She would always prefer to have flesh touching her, even if it's raw meat. That's genius characterization, imo.

The central plot of the movie is very entertaining, as well. I love the concept of two rivals duking it out to see who's the worst. We get some great moments out of it like Divine receiving a box of shit or her and her crew killing and eating those officers.

The main reason this movie has been on my mind is because a Youtube channel I'm starting to fancy, Anthony Gramuglia, recently made a video about how we need more bad queer representation, a sentiment I agree with. I'll always have more of an interest queer content that isn't about two, skinny, white boys from upper-middle-class neighborhoods talking about the pressures of being in the closet *bleh!* I'm just sick of seeing that shit hyped up.

But it was interesting. This film was one of the main examples of how unsanitized and offensive queer media used to be. That it wasn't as concerned with making queer people look good. Don't get me wrong, the character of Divine is anything but inoffensive, at the same time though, I feel like this movie makes her out to be the lesser of two evils. I mean, yeah Divine is gross, blowing her son, shitting in public, and cannibalizing people? That's pretty nasty, but she never reaches the heights of people who run a sex trafficking ring and flash themselves in public consistently ('cause I mean like, you gotta clean up the police bodies somehow, you can't have that stinking up your property. Also, that was arguably self-defense, the people at the party weren't really doing anything wrong.). She even does something somewhat heroic by letting the two women locked in the couple's basement free and get revenge on their rapist. I thought she was going to kill the two afterward.

Maybe that's the point, though. That there's a difference between being filthy and being evil. Also, Divine's revenge was just way better. Burning down a trailer and your ops aren't even inside? Cowardly.

This was an interesting watch. I can't go into detail about how much of a landmark this was on queer cinema and cinema in general. I just know that it was. On a scale of personal enjoyment, I'd give this a 7/10. And yeah, kill everyone now, condone first-degree murder, advocate cannibalism, eat shit. My final message. Goodbye.