#because i need to pause my thinking to explain myself

[requiemforthepoets]

this is me trying 𖦹 OP81

PAIRINGS: oscar piastri x female!reader

SUMMARY: growing up, the only thing you know is that you need to be strong, provide, and take care of your sister. but being with oscar, it was different, he made you feel things—that it’s okay to not be fine, vulnerable, and to be taken care of.

AUTHOR’S NOTE: i have this fic finished the other day but i was debating on whether to post it or not, but here we are. it’s been a while too since i last wrote for oscar, and this is like a comfort (?) fic idk lol. also, can i just say that LANDO ON POLE FOR THE SG GP!!! 😭🧡 ok, i hope you guys will have fun reading this one. enjoy! :)

REMINDERS: this is purely fiction, the way how the character is portrayed in my story does not reflect the person that is portraying my character in real life. always separate fiction from reality, and do not repost or copy my work in any way.

WORD COUNT: 3.6k

WARNINGS: not proofread, typos, eldest daughter syndrome, no use of y/n, cursing, unnamed sister, named friend, and parents death

You were sitting in the living room, surrounded by case files and legal books, trying your best to prepare for the court trial that you’ll be doing soon, but your mind was elsewhere. You can't focus on the work that you’re working on in front of you, no matter how hard you try. Your phone buzzed, and you almost didn’t answer, thinking it’s just another work call, but when you saw Blaire, your friend’s name, flash on the screen you quickly picked up, expecting a casual chat.

“Hey, Blaire, how are you?” You greeted her, trying to mask your exhaustion.

Her voice on the other end was hesitant, not the usual warm tone that you’re used to. “Hey…I really hate to bring this up, but I was wondering when you would be able to repay the five thousand dollars?”

Your stomach dropped. “Repay?” You repeated, utterly confused. “What do you mean five thousand dollars?”

The conversation between you and Blaire unraveled quickly. She explained how she had lent the money to your sister out of need, thinking it was for you or with your approval. Rage bubbled in your chest, your pulse quickened, at this point all you can see is red. You thanked her hastily, barely able to end the call before fury overtook you. Without thinking, you dialed your sister’s number, the beeps echoing in your ear like a countdown to an explosion.

“Hello?” Her voice was casual, completely unaware of the storm coming her way.

“What the actual fuck did you do?!” You yelled, not caring if it was late at night. “You borrowed five fucking thousand dollars from Blaire without asking me!? How could you?!”

There was a pause, a brief moment where you could almost feel her shrug through the phone. “Oh my god, can you relax? It’s not like you can't afford it. It’s not that big of a deal, you can just easily pay for it with how big you’re making, it’s barely a scratch on your bank account!” You couldn’t believe what you were actually hearing.

“Not a big deal? Did you spend the money already? Do you have any fucking idea how humiliating it is for me that you did this without even consulting me? You think just because I make good money, I’ll fix every mess you create?” You were seething.

“Well, yeah,” she responded with a laugh, clearly not grasping the gravity of the situation. “You’re my older sister. Isn’t it your job to take care of me, right?”

Your grip on your phone tightened. “I’ve been taking care of you your whole life! I’m working myself to the bone just to make sure you have everything you need, sending you to that fancy school that you’ve always wanted so you can have a better future, and this is how you repay me? By lying and stealing?”

The silence on the other end of the line felt heavy, but your anger has not subsided. She mumbled something that sounded like a half assed apology, but it was already too late for that. You immediately hung up and slammed the phone down on the table, heart racing, pulse pounding in your ears. Anger still swirling inside you like a storm, the words of your sister still echoing in your mind. You can just easily pay for it with how big you’re making. Her carelessness, lack of respect—it hit harder than anything you had experienced before. It wasn’t about the money, you could handle the five thousand dollars easily, but the way she completely dismissed your hard work, as if it was nothing, as if your sacrifice and years of struggle meant nothing—that was what burned deep. It hurts like fucking hell.

You sat down there on the couch, trying to calm yourself down, tears started to prick at the corners of your eyes, but you blinked them back. You didn’t cry. You cannot cry. You have always been strong your whole life—the provider, carer, and protector. That’s who you were. No one had ever taken care of you, not since your parents passed away when you were fifteen and your sister is only ten. It has always been you, alone, against the world, and now, it felt like even your sister was against you.

You didn’t hear Oscar enter the living room until his voice, soft but firm, broke through the silence. “Hey, I heard you from our room. Are you okay?”

You swallowed hard, your body automatically stiffening instinctively and continued browsing through your documents like nothing happened.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Don’t worry,” you lied, though the quiver in your voice betrayed you.

Oscar walked over and sat down beside you on the couch, his hand gently resting on your shoulder. “You don’t always have to be fine,” he said quietly. “Tell me, what happened?”

You exhaled sharply, your hands trembling as you ran them through your hair. “It’s my sister,” you muttered, trying to keep your voice steady. “She borrowed money from Blaire. Five thousand dollars. Without even telling me. Now, she’s acting like it’s my job to fix it.”

“Five thousand? That’s a lot.” Oscar frowned, his brows knitting in concern.

“I know,” you said, “she doesn’t even care. She just assumes I’ll take care of it, like I always do every time she gets into stupid situations. She thinks just because I earn good money, I’m supposed to fix everything.” Your voice cracked, and before you could stop it, the tears you had been holding back for so long finally broke free. “I don’t know how much longer I can do this, Oscar. I’m always the one fixing things, I’m always the one who has to be strong.”

Oscar didn’t say anything for a moment, he just stared at you, his eyes filled with understanding. Then, without a word, he pulled you into his arms. You tensed at first, still not used to being vulnerable, but Oscar’s embrace was warm, grounding. Slowly, your body relaxed into his, and the weight of the world seemed to lift just a little as you rested your head against his chest.

“It’s not fair,” you whispered to him. “I’ve always had to be the strong one. I’m tired, Oscar. I’m so fucking tired. I don’t know how much more I can take.”

His hand gently stroked your back, his voice soft and reassuring. “I know. It’s okay to be tired. You don’t have to be strong all the time. Not with me.”

You pulled back slightly to look at him, your eyes searching his face, “I just don’t know how to let anyone help me,” you admitted, voice barely audible. “I’ve been doing this for so long, I don’t know how to not be the one in control.”

“I get that. But you don’t have to do it all alone anymore. I’m here. Let me be strong for you, too.” Oscar smiled gently, brushing a tear from your cheek with his thumb.

For a moment, you didn’t know what to say. The idea of letting someone else carry even a fraction of the weight feels completely foreign to you. But as you looked at Oscar, his eyes full of sincerity, something inside you shifted. Maybe, it’s time you let it all fall down, you didn’t have to carry everything on your shoulders all the time.

“What am I supposed to do about her?” You asked, your voice small but steady now.

Oscar sighed softly, thinking for a moment. “You have all the right to be angry and upset. Your feelings are valid,” he said. “She needs to learn that actions have consequences. But at the same time, she’s your sister. She’s young, and sometimes young people tend to make mistakes. You’ve been doing everything for so long that she probably hasn’t learned how to take responsibility for herself yet.”

You nodded, wiping your eyes. “Yeah, maybe. But I can’t just let her think she can keep doing this.”

“No,” he agreed. “But you also don’t have to do this alone. We can figure it out together.”

You looked at him, really looked at him, and for the first time in a long time, you felt like you weren’t alone. Maybe you didn’t always have to be the strong one, the provider, the protector. With Oscar by your side, you could learn how to let someone else carry the weight with you.

“Thank you,” you whispered, leaning into him once more. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

Oscar smiled, pressing a soft tender kiss to your forehead. “You’ll never have to find out, I’m not going anywhere, my love.”

The next morning, you stared at the screen of your laptop, fingers moving quickly over the keys as you finished drafting the contract. The legal jargon was familiar, comforting even, but the fact that you had to use it against your own sister left a bitter taste in your mouth. The contract was firm, direct, and laid out the consequences clearly: five thousand dollars, to be repaid in installments, with interest and penalties if the deadline is missed. You hated doing it—your heart never felt so heavy—but you knew it was necessary. You had been too lenient for far too long, if she didn’t learn this now, she might never understand the true value of money and the responsibility that came with it. It was time for her to learn the hard truths you had known your entire life.

Oscar was sitting across the table, sipping his coffee, watching you in silence. “You’ve finished it?” He asked gently. You had told him last night that you need to straighten everything out, and told him your plan, in which he quickly supported you.

You nodded, eyes scanning the contract one last time before saving it. “Yeah. She’s not going to like it, but this has to be done.” You sighed, “I’ve been too lenient, too forgiving. I can’t keep cleaning up after her messes.”

“You’re doing the right thing.” He said as he reached over, placing his hand over yours. “It’s tough, but you’re teaching her a lesson she won’t forget.”

“I hope so,” you sighed, glancing out the window, the weight of responsibility pressing down on you once more. “I’ve never been one to ask for anything back, but she needs to learn that she can’t just treat me like this. I want her to be successful, but she can’t rely on me forever.”

Later that day, you booked a flight for her to Monaco, and notified her about the flight schedule. She was studying in Switzerland, and it would be a four hour flight from Switzerland to Monaco. It was time to have this conversation face-to-face. You couldn’t keep allowing her to avoid responsibility just because you were miles apart. This is a conversation that is long overdue.

A couple of days later, she arrived at your and Oscar’s shared apartment. She seemed different—more subdued, perhaps. You could tell the weight of your anger still lingered in her mind. She greeted you cautiously, her eyes flickering to Oscar, who stood nearby, his presence calm but protective.

“Sit down,” you said, pointing to the couch.

She looked at you, clearly trying to gauge your mood, but she did as she was told. You sat across from her, with Oscar by your side, and the freshly printed contract lying on the table between you. The tension in the living room was thick.

“I had already settled your debt with Blaire,” you began, your voice calm but firm. “But this conversation is not just about the money. It’s about respect, about responsibility.”

“I said I was sorry.” She crossed her arms, trying to play it cool.

“Sorry doesn’t fix this,” you snapped, your patience was already running thin, barely hanging on by a thread. “I have been providing for you because I want nothing but the best for you. But what you did was careless, and you disrespected everything I’ve done for you. You didn’t even ask me before borrowing that money, and then you just blatantly assumed I would handle it. You do this every time to me, you always get me into awkward and humiliating situations.”

She bit her lip, her attitude wavering. “I know, but you make so much—”

“That’s not the point!” You cut her off, about to lose your cool but Oscar had managed to calm you down by softly caressing your back. “Yes, I make good amount of money, but that money just doesn’t magically appear. I have worked hard, harder than you can imagine, to get to where I am. Do you want to know what’s worse? What’s worse is that you’re not even thinking about how hard it is to earn that money, how I burn myself off everyday. So I’m making you earn it back.” You slid the contract towards her.

“What’s this?” She looked down at it, then back at you, looking all confused.

“It’s an agreement,” you said. “I’ve decided to give you the five thousand dollars. Consider what you bought from that money as a gift, because I know you’ve been doing well in school, and it’s been a while since I’ve given you anything. But this will never happen again. You owe me that money, and you're going to pay it back. Every cent of it, with interest.” Her eyes widened, and she opened her mouth to protest, but you cut her off before she could even speak.

“This is not negotiable. I’m still going to support you, I’m still going to pay for your tuition, but you need to learn how hard it is to earn this kind of money. You’re going to work for it, and I'll expect proof—payslips, records—everything. If you miss a payment, there will be penalties added, and if you refuse or try to make a fool out of me, I’m not afraid to take legal action.”

“You’d sue me? Your own sister?” She stared at you in disbelief.

“Yes, I would,” you said coldly. “I don’t want to, but you’ve left me with no choice. You are already eighteen and will turn nineteen in two months, you are already capable of knowing what’s right and wrong. You need to understand that I’m not going to bail you out every time you mess up, this is your responsibility now.”

For a long moment, she didn’t say anything. Her face was a mix of shock and anger, but you could tell the gravity of the situation was already starting to sink in.

“I’m not trying to be harsh,” you said softly, leaning forward. “But I’ve been in your shoes, and I know firsthand how hard life can be. I have shielded you from that, and maybe that was my mistake. But if you’re going to succeed in this world, you need to understand that nothing is free, nothing in life is free. Everything comes with a cost.”

Oscar then leaned forward, gently placing a hand on your shoulder. “Look, we’re not doing this to hurt you,” he added, tone gentle but firm. “But this is a wake-up call. You need to understand how your sister has worked so hard, and how important it is that you start contributing. No one’s saying you have to do it alone, but you have to start doing something.”

Your sister’s eyes shifted between the two of you, and for a moment, you saw a flicker of guilt in her expression. She glanced back down at the contract, and you handed her a pen.

“Okay,” she whispered. “I’ll do it. I’ll pay you back.” Her attitude and defiance slowly faded from her face.

“Good.” You nodded, “then sign it.”

She hesitated for only a moment before scribbling her signature across the bottom of the contract. You felt a strange mixture of relief and sadness, knowing you had to be this tough, but also hoping it would be the turning point she needed.

“You can stay with us while you’re in Monaco,” you told her, “but I expect you to find a job as soon as possible. If you fail to keep up with your end of the deal, there will be consequences. Understood?”

“Understood.” She nodded, though her expression was still a mix of resentment and defeat.

You exhaled, feeling a small sense of relief wash over you. This wasn’t easy, and you hated having to be this strict with her, but it had to be done. Oscar wrapped his arm around you, his touch grounding as soon as you watched your sister head towards the guest room.

“You did the right thing,” he said quietly.

“I hope so,” you whispered, leaning into him. “I just want her to grow up.”

“Don’t worry, she will.” Oscar assured you, pressing a soft kiss to the side of your head. “With you as her sister, she doesn’t have much of a choice,”

Later that evening, the apartment finally fell quiet, dinner was definitely awkward and quiet, but with your sister already tucked away in the guest room, the weight of everything you had said and done began to settle in. You were sitting at the edge of the bed, heart heavy and mind replaying what had happened earlier over and over. The way your sister had looked at you—hurt and angry—it cut deeper that you were willing to admit.

You had always been strong, but this strength had come with a cost. Now, sitting in the stillness of the night, the reality of your actions hit you like a tidal wave. It wasn’t just the contract or the money, it was the fear—the fear that in trying to teach her a lesson, you might have pushed her too far. That in being the disciplinarian, you had damaged something that might never fully recover or heal.

Oscar entered the room quietly, sensing the shift in your mood. He sat beside you, his presence had always been comforting, but it wasn’t enough to stop the flood of emotions you had been holding back.

“Was I too harsh, Osc?” You whispered, voice barely audible.

He frowned slightly, tilting his head to look at you. “No, you weren’t. She needed to hear all of it.”

“I know,” you replied, voice trembling. “But what if I lose her because of this? What if she hates me for it?”

You felt your tears welling up again, but this time you couldn’t stop them anymore. They spilled down your cheeks, unchecked, as you finally let go of the tension and frustration you had been carrying.

“I’m not being harsh to punish her, I just want her to understand how hard life is, how much I’ve sacrificed. But what if all she sees is me being cruel?”

Oscar pulled you close, wrapping his arms around you as you broke down. You rested your head on his chest, sobs coming in waves, guilt and fear crashing over you. You had always been strong for so long—too long—and now, it felt like everything was unraveling.

“She’s my baby sister,” you choked out between sobs. “I don’t want to lose her. But I don’t know what else to do. I don’t want her to think I’m just some heartless person who only cares about money.”

Oscad held you tighter, his voice calm and steady as he spoke. “She won’t hate you. Not forever. She’s upset now, sure. But she’s young, and right now, she probably doesn’t understand why you’re doing this. But she will, trust me. One day, she’ll look back at it and realize that you did this because you love her.”

You shook your head, your chest tightening with the weight of your emotions. “I feel like I’m always the one who has to be the bad guy. I never get to be the one who’s just there for her, to support her without judgment.”

Oscar stroked your hair gently, his voice soothing. “You’ve done more for her than anyone else ever could. You’ve given her everything. You’re not the bad guy, you’re her protector, even when it means being tough on her. Yeah, maybe this will cause a rift for now, but it won’t last. She’ll come around, she’ll see that you’re doing this because you care.”

You pulled away slightly, wiping at your tear-streaked face. “What if she doesn’t?”

“She will,” Oscar said firmly. “But even if it takes time, you can’t keep beating yourself up for doing what’s right. You’re teaching her a lesson that no one else will. You’re giving her the tools to grow up, to be responsible. Sometimes, that means being tough. That’s tough love.”

You nodded, but the guilt still gnawed at you. “I just wish I didn’t have to be this person all the time. The one who fixes things, who keeps everyone in line.”

“I know. But you’re not doing this alone anymore, okay? I’m here. Whenever it feels like it’s too much, rest on me. You can always rest on me.”

You leaned into him again, his warmth easing the ache that you’re feeling inside of you. “I just hope she understands someday,” you whispered.

“She will,” Oscar said softly, kissing the top of your head. “And until then, you’ve done what you needed to do. You’ve set her on the right path, and that’s what matters.”

As the tears slowly subsided, you felt a flicker of hope, knowing that even though this was hard, it was necessary. Even if your sister doesn't see it now, you could only hope that one day, she would understand that everything you did was out of love.

The weight on your shoulders became a little lighter, knowing that Oscar was right. Even if it took time, even if there were still battles to fight, you knew you weren’t facing them alone anymore, and for the first time in what felt like forever, you allowed yourself to breathe. You had done what needed to be done. Now it was up to your sister to follow through.

[idkimnotreal]

third world countries have lower average iqs because our education systems are worse. that’s a known fact.

what’s relatively unknown, though, is the damage that third world public education can do to potential potential 130+ iqs.

i myself am one such case. do you know what it’s like to go through school, the entirety of it, in zombie mode? do you know what it’s like to develop social anxiety because i could simply skip group assignments and presentations because a recovery exam awaited me at the end of each term, which i was guaranteed to pass with minimal effort? do you know what it’s like to be top of the class, and all the praises that it incurs, without ever learning to study because school wasn’t challenging enough? do you know what it’s like when every single one of your teachers is painfully apathetic to your talents because they’ve lost hope at this point?

i feel like my school system set me up to fail. for a short time near 2010, my family had the means to afford private school for me, but my father chose not to because of affirmative action for pupils from public schools to enter university. little did he know, pupils from military schools in brazil are also eligible for that, and the drop in grades necessary to pass is barely 5% if that. so it was useless in the end to keep me dumber for something that was never coming anyway.

and it just all enrages me. my teachers, my parents, the world. i can’t study now. i feel like it’s pointless. i know why it happens - i was praised for being smart without studying. it’s that simple. it’s core behaviorism stuff. and yet i can’t fix it. i can’t ever feel useful if i’m studying. feels like wasted time and effort (not even with adhd meds; it’s not a focus issue, i just don’t want to study because i can’t see the rewards at the end). because i can be smart without studying... that’s what they told me, unconsciously. it’s caught up with me at last.

[sm-writes-chaos]

my ocs really are just facets of myself holy ezerk

[weirdly-specific-but-ok]

for whom good omens is being written

Hey maggots and the rest of the fandom, it's the Good Omens Mascot here. Today I read a post about this tweet:

The accompanying video genuinely made me cry. And I've been thinking about this for a long while, as far back as February, when I saw a lot of conflicting opinions on what people wanted from the third season. It really is true that no matter what you do, some people will be dissatisfied. But what matters is that Neil is writing this for Terry.

And I was reminded of some paragraphs from the Good Omens TV Companion, which I'd read in Amazon's sample excerpt of the book. I know this is a long post, but I really truly do think you all need to read these, I've done my best to select only the most important parts. Here you go:

'His Alzheimer's started progressing harder and faster than either of us had expected,' says Neil, referring to a period in which Terry recognized that despite everything he could no longer write. 'We had been friends for over thirty years, and during that time he had never asked me for anything. Then, out of the blue, I received an email from him with a special request. It read: “Listen, I know how busy you are. I know you don't have time to do this, but I want you to write the script for Good Omens. You are the only human being on this planet who has the passion, love and understanding for the old girl that I do. You have to do this for me so that I can see it." And I thought, “OK, if you put it like that then I'll do it."

'I had adapted my own work in the past, writing scripts for Death: The High Cost of Living and Sandman, but not a lot else was seen. I'd also written two episodes of Doctor Who, and so I felt like I knew what I was doing. Usually, having written something once I'd rather start something new, but having a very sick co-author saying I had to do this?' Neil spreads his hands as if the answer is clear to see. 'I had to step up to the plate.' A pause, then: 'All this took place in autumn 2014, around the time that the BBC radio adaptation of Good Omens was happening,' he continues, referring to the production scripted and co-directed by Dirk Maggs and starring Peter Serafinowicz and Mark Heap. ‘Terry had talked me into writing the TV adaptation, and I thought OK, I have a few years. Only I didn't have a few years,' he says. 'Terry was unconscious by December and dead by March.'

He pauses again. 'His passing took all of us by surprise,' Neil remembers. 'About a week later, I started writing, and it was very sad. The moments Terry felt closest to me were the moments I would get stuck during the writing process. In the old days, when we wrote the novel, I would send him what I'd done or phone him up. And he would say, "Aahh, the problem, Grasshopper, is in the way you phrase the question," and I would reply, "Just tell me what to do!" which somehow always started a conversation. 'In writing the script, there were times I'd really want to talk to Terry, and also places where I'd figure something out and do something really clever, and I would want to share it with him. So, instead, I would text Terry's former personal assistant, Rob Wilkins, now his representative on Earth. It was the nearest thing I had.'

(...) As Neil himself recognizes, this is an adaptation built upon the confidence that comes from three decades of writing for page and screen. But for all the wisdom of experience, he found that above all one factor guided him throughout the process. 'Terry isn't here, which leaves me as the guardian of the soul of the story,' he explains. 'It's funny because sometimes I found myself defending Terry's bits harder or more passionately than I would defend my own bits. Take Agnes Nutter,' he says, referring to what has become a key scene in the adaptation in which the seventeenth-century author of the book of prophecies foretelling the coming of the Antichrist is burned at the stake. ‘It was a huge, complicated and incredibly expensive shoot, with bonfires built and primed to explode as well as huge crowds in costume. It had to feel just like an English village in the 1640s, and of course everyone asked if there was a cheap way of doing it. 'One suggestion was that we could tell the story using old-fashioned woodcuts and have the narrator take us through what happened, but I just thought, “No”. Because I had brought aspects of the story like Crowley and the baby swap along to the mix, and Terry created Agnes Nutter. So, if I had cut out Agnes then I wouldn't be doing right by the person who gave me this job. Terry would've rolled over in his grave.'

And, finally, this paragraph:

"Once again, Neil cites the absence of his co-writer as his drive to ensure that Good Omens translated to the screen and remained true to the original vision. 'Terry's last request to me was to make this something he would be proud of. And so that has been my job.'"

I think that's so heartwrenchingly beautiful, and so I wanted you all to read this, too, just in case you (like me) don't have the Good Omens TV Companion. It adds another layer of depth and emotion to this already complex and amazing story that we all know and love.

Share this post, if you can, please, so that more people can read these excerpts :")

Tagging @neil-gaiman, @fuckyeahgoodomens and @orpiknight, even if you've definitely read these before :)

[all4yoi]

only you

𝑒nhypen x fem!reader ⚹ cw. part 2 of just a game , hyung line , 2nd pov , ︎ fluff / comfort , lowercase intended , crying , cliche fluff omfg , karina mentioned on heeseung's & wonyoung on sunghoon's , not proofread ! part one here !

after catching them holding hands with another female, you walk away from them and they run after you, assuring you it was all a misunderstanding.

★ LEE HEESEUNG (0.5k words)

the day was coming to an end and heeseung has yet to find you.

after he had politely rejected karina, he ran after you but to no avail. all of his attempts on trying to reach you was a bootless errand. everytime he had seen a glimpse of you - whether in the cafeteria, library, the hallways, and god even in your shared class - you somehow always found a way to avoid him.

he could've simply gave up and moved on, he could've ran back to karina and date her instead. but he didn't want to give up and move on, he didn't want to run back to karina and date her, because what he wanted- needed, was you.

heeseung didn't want to go home yet, he needed to see you and explain everything. he'd be a fool to let you out his reach especially now that he knows you feel the same for him. he wasn't going to lose you because of a stupid mistake he made.

spotting a familiar figure sitting underneath a tree in the university's garden, he silently walked towards them, his fingers crossed hoping that he's finally found you.

and as if the universe was on his side, he saw you gorgeously flipping through a book with your pink earphones on. heeseung silently sat beside you, hoping you won't run away from him again. he saw how you stiffened and how your fingers stopped playing with the book's pages, and he wanted nothing but to hold your hand. it was your hand he wanted to hold- no one else's. you may not be with him yet, but ever since he realized he liked you, he was already yours before you even knew.

"y/n," he started softly, gently removing one earbud from your ear so you could hear him. you let him and look at him with hesitance, scared that he's here to tell you that he's changed his mind and he likes karina now instead.

heeseung smiled softly at you, "please let me talk and explain everything, okay?" you nodded, feeling your throat clogging up. "karina, you know she's one of my good friends, right? when you saw me holding her hand a while ago, she was the one who took my hand. i was so taken aback by her confession that i completely froze-..

because she's like a sister to me and you're the one i want. you're the one i need.. the one i like." he paused, brows furrowed in worry, hoping you'd understand. "i'm sorry for letting her hold my hand, and i'm sorry for hurting you. i really really like you y/n, please let me redeem myself to you." he finished, a small hesitant smile in his face as he studied yours.

feeling overwhelmed, you burst into tears. heeseung panicked, thinking he said something wrong and brought you to his chest, wrapping his arms around you.

"i thought you'd choose her over me." you cried in his chest, your own arms wrapping around his waist. heeseung didn't know why, but even when you were crying in his chest with your arms wrapped around his waist, he was feeling over the moon.

shaking his head, he pulled you closer if it was even possible and mumbled in your hair, "i'll choose you in a room full of other girls baby. only you."

other members utc!

★  PARK JONGSEONG (0.5k words)

3 hours was enough space right? jay liked to think it was, he was too impatient and just wanted to run to you and explain everything, but he knew you probably didn't want to see him after what you've witnessed.

jay had tried to put himself in your shoe, imagining seeing you holding hands with another boy after confessing to you- by the thought of it alone already made him feel ten times more worse, he hated himself with how much pain he had caused you.

so instead of waiting until tomorrow, jay took his bag and walked out of the cafeteria, ignoring his friends that were calling for him. he already knew where to find you, after all, he's always had his eyes on you ever since the first semester started.

jay muttered a quiet 'good afternoon' to the librarian before making a beeline towards the back of the library and there you were in your element. laptop open, headphones on with multiple books on the table you've occupied.

he liked to think that his type were girls that were a bit dumb so that he could lead the relationship, but when it comes to you? smart, pretty, and soft spoken? if his heart could speak, he's certain that the only word it can mutter is your name, and he's not ashamed to admit that.

the moment you looked up and made eye contact with him almost made his knees give up if it weren't for him holding on to a shelf to stabilize himself, and when you softly smiled at him despite what you saw that morning, it made him yearn for you more. he wouldn't ask for no one else.

call him cliché but you were the only one for him.

"what are you doing there? come sit." you motioned on the empty seat across from you to which he occupied immediately. "have you eaten?"

"have you?" he questioned back, eyeing the papers and books splattered on the table. "i had coffee." was your reply.

jay knew that you were still upset, it was showing in your body language. you were tense, stiff, and your fingers were shaking behind your laptop. he wanted to punch himself for making you feel this way.

"i'm sorry y/n, i really am." the hum you let out made him continue, his eyes studying your pretty face silently. "it's really not what it looked like-"

"everyone says that jay." the way you bit your lip told him that you didn't mean to cut his sentence off and be so harsh.

"yes, i know, it's stupid but i'm telling the truth. she bumped into me and fell, i couldn't just leave her on the floor because everyone saw our collision so i offered her a hand. that was it, i was about to walk away but she introduced herself and insisted on shaking hands.. then you saw me.

i know it looked so wrong from your perspective without context, and i'm sorry for upsetting you. i really had no other intentions, i was telling you the truth when i told you that night that i like you too, so much." he reached out for your hand, sighing in relief when you didn't pull away.

you nodded your head in understanding, squeezing his hand to tell him you now understand. "i'm sorry for jumping into conclusions and not hearing you out the first time."

he shook his head, squeezing your hand back. "it's okay, i understand. we're good now?" chuckling at him, you nodded and smiled at him. "we are, thank you."

★ SIM JAEYUN (0.4k words)

the tears in your eyes as you walked away from him made his heart crack. should he run after you? will you find him annoying? do you want him to run after you or do you want nothing to do with him now?

after arguing with himself on his head, he ran after you and engulfed you in a hug before you could turn around the corner and disappear from his sight. "please let me explain." his own voice cracked, and the weird looks you both received from the other students did not faze him at all.

"jake, not here please. they're looking at us.." he hastily took your hand and led you into an empty classroom, wanting nothing more than to assure you that what you thought is wrong and all he wanted was only you.

after he had made sure the door was locked and no one else was hiding somewhere, he immediately took your hands in his rubbing the back of your palm with his thumb.

you didn't know what to feel, was this how he held that girl's hand too? did he hold hers with gentleness too? with that in thought, your tears were back.

"no no, please don't cry. it was all a misunderstanding i promise." he held your face and wiped away the tears, his eyes held worry but so much love as well.

"she mistook me as her boyfriend, it didn't even last for 10 seconds because the moment she held my hand we both pulled away from each other.. it was just wrong timing that you saw it and we made eye contact, please believe me." he was practically crying with you right now, his own tears cascading down the apple of his cheeks.

you frantically nodded your head - now you were the one panicking at the sight of his tears. "i do, thank you for explaining. please don't cry." his tears were wiped with your thumbs as you hugged him tight.

"i don't want you to ever think i'm lying to you, you're really all i need." he explained further through his sobs, his arms tightening around you more.

there you two were, hugging each other in an empty room, tears falling down from both of your eyes as you comforted each other. and at that moment, no one else mattered - it was just the both of you in the world.

★ PARK SUNGHOON (0.6k words)

to say that sunghoon felt like shit the whole day yesterday and this morning was an understatement. he had desperately contacted you in all your social media accounts - fucking christ he even contacted you through your school's email, but to no avail, he was always left ignored.

he didn't blame you though, if he was to experience and see what you did yesterday, he would act the same - maybe even worse. sunghoon wanted nothing more but to make it up to you, to explain that he was only doing wonyoung a favor to make her crush jealous. i guess you could blame him for agreeing, but did he really have a choice when she just randomly grabbed him and told him to smile at every passing student? maybe.

he had texted wonyoung that same afternoon, telling her- demanding her politely? to explain everything to you, she told him she did but was only left on read by you. the girl apologized profusely to you and sunghoon, she didn't have any idea about the two of you and if she did - she wouldn't have done what she did.

but what's done is done, and now sunghoon is still trying to desperately reach you. throughout the day, he would hear your name coming out of other people's mouth, but not once did he catch a single glimpse of you. sunghoon was running out of options, he didn't want to be that type of guy to show up infront of your door step in fear of crossing boundaries, but he was seriously considering doing it today.

sunghoon mentally chanted your name in his head as if that would help and summon you, and you know what? maybe it did work because now he was seeing you standing across from him, your back facing towards him as you looked at the bulletin board.

not wasting any time, he raced towards you and gently grabbed your forearm, successfully turning your attention from the bulletin board to the taller boy behind you. sunghoon wanted the ground to swallow him whole when he saw how your face dropped at the sight of him.

"let's talk, please?" he whispered that only you could hear, glancing around the corridor before looking back at you. the small hesitant nod was everything he needed before he lead you in an empty hall as everyone was in the cafeteria.

sunghoon took his chance and took you in, loving the way you've dressed yourself today and he wanted to just keep you in his arms all day, but he reminded himself that he needed to clear things up and make you his girlfriend obviously before he could even do that.

"wony already explained everything, i'm sorry for assuming the wrong thing.." sunghoon was taken aback by your sudden apology, and the tightness in his chest grew.

he took your face in his hand, gently bringing your chin up so he could look you in the eye. "i should be the one apologizing.. i'm sorry for making you feel that way, i didn't have any other intentions towards her and i only like you.. so much to the point that it hurts. i'll do anything to prove it to you."

he couldn't understand that someone so precious as you could grow such feelings for him, he couldn't process and believe that he's important to someone he finds important too. should he be punished by the gods above because he finds your teary eyes enchanting? he could see his reflection in your eyes and the love it carries, and somehow he finally understands. sunghoon feels warm as he brought you to his chest, tucking your head in the crook of his neck.

"i'll show you, i'll give you my everything and my forever. you're it for me."

[gothwineaunts]

Wow, hello!

So, I was actually feeling pretty motivated to write this post yesterday. But things have gotten exponentially worse, and I admit the pressure is getting to me. There seem to be a ton of expectations surrounding what I should be saying here, in order to… I guess, absolve myself? As if there’s a checklist people want me to go through to perform the “perfect” creator apology. But, I don’t see the point. I care a lot about this community and I think you deserve something a lot more sincere than some hollow chat-gpt apology. I understand that that’s foolish, on my part. Things are done that way so often because they work. But what you’ll find throughout this post, is that I’m kind of an idiot about some things. I’m stubborn and hard-headed and a little bit pretentious. And so, what I’m planning to do here is to simply tell you the truth about what happened. No cherry picking. All my mistakes, but also the context that goes with them. And at the end, my formal apology. This is a long and winding tale with a lot of characters. I’m going to be sharing some usernames as we go, in the interest of clarity and transparency. You’ll understand why with the context. But please do not seek these people out. Don’t pick fights with them. It will only make everything worse, for all involved.

Cool? Cool. But first I need to address the elephant in the room. This will probably seem like irrelevant drama at first, but this is the nuance and background that I wasn’t adequately able to articulate the night before last. In more ways than one, this is a story told in twos. The first set of twos is you, the readers. Who you are, and what you’re hoping to find out in this post.

1.      The overwhelming majority of you, are earnestly wanting to understand what has happened in the Nevermore Discord. You are concerned that I am not who you hoped I was. You are disappointed, and I understand why. To you, I am so sorry. I want to say that things are not as bad as they seem, but that is not for me to decide. You will need to draw your own conclusions from the words I write. And I understand, whatever you choose to do next.

2.      And there is a small, but incredibly vocal minority of people who are absolutely living for this. They are spreading complete fabrications with no screenshots to speak of. Horrible, horrible accusations. People who are more excited about watching a dumpsterfire than they are about the series that brought them here in the first place. I’m not going to attempt to cater to those people in this post. Because nothing will ever be good enough. Everything that can be taken in bad faith will be taken in bad faith. It would be pointless. But you’ll see them in the comments and reblogs. This is a known group to not only myself, but many others. I will share some of their names in a later section so you know who to watch for. They will make a lot of noise around this post because they’ve been trying to make something like this happen for actual years. And now that I had a genuinely concerning response that good people reasonably want me to explain, they’re lunging at the chance to throw absolutely anything at the wall. It’s parasocial levels of hatred. This is some deep and horrible lore.

The next set of twos is how two things can be true at the same time. And that is exactly what is going on here, in this situation. Let me be really clear, because I don’t want either truth to be lost in my explanation as they are intrinsically linked to one another.

1.      I did a downright terrible job explaining myself in the Discord when people started asking about crimson. I can give you all kinds of contributing factors for this, and I might later. But none of them really matter. It was incredibly careless of me to use “egging them on” and “cried wolf”  to describe what I understood. At the time I was really laser-focused on expressing what happened as simply and quickly as possible because the channel replies were paused and I felt like everyone was just waiting for me to be finished with my message. But after stepping back, I immediately understood how badly I messed up, because of course these idioms are routinely weaponized against survivors of SA and CSA. That is not how I intended to use them. It was an unfortunate case of one thing looking and sounding like another thing. Incredibly ham-fisted and irresponsible on my part. To the survivors who read my words and felt that it echoed their past experiences, I’m heartbroken that I did that to you. That lapse of judgement was a betrayal to both you and me. I don’t know where my head went, and I’m just blown away by my own lack of awareness in that message. So for that I am and will continue to be sorry.

2.      The second thing that can be true is that, while you are all absolutely owed an explanation and an apology, there are also some people amongst you who are using this fuck-up on my part as a springboard to take me down.  These people have been trying to get a call out post to pop off about me for at least a year, and they have been very quick to jump into the reblogs and comments about this very serious topic with complete lies and slander. Just, anything that might stick to the wall. We’ll address this later on as well. But please understand that me discussing the harassment I’ve faced from these groups is not at the expense of me also owning up to my faults and taking the proper accountability.

And the last set of twos is one I’ve alluded to in the first sets, concerning a pair of toxic side-servers that ran adjacent to the main Nevermore Discord. Completely unofficial cliques. And invisible to myself and Flynn and our mod team. We were eventually made aware that both of them were breaking laws and Discord ToS in ways that leaked into our server and affected our members negatively. As such, both groups were mass-banned. And the cliques are the ones running a majority of the discourse you’ve been seeing here, because while they are formally banned from the discord, we have absolutely no say in their participation on Tumblr. Now, keep in mind. Both of these groups were uncovered after crimson was banned the first time. That’s important later.

Clique #1

My understanding of the first group is that it started as a gaming server for people who met one another through the Nevermore Discord. I don’t know when or why it started being used to talk shit about other readers, but I do know that it got really vicious. And it was sort of an open secret for long before I knew anything about it. I found out after that there were a lot of people passively in this server, just observing. It was that much of a spectacle.

Now, this clique had been pretty rude. Like they’d try to start fights with me in the discord fairly often, both in the Patreon and free spaces. But it wasn’t grounds for dismissal until we found out about the baiting and the alts.  These people had a lot of grievances, but one really united them: they were extremely upset about anyone who would ship Prospero.

Many of you know, that Prospero is an aromantic character, canonically. And you may notice that canonically, he has no apparent love interest. But this group wanted to make sure other readers were not thinking about Prospero in relationships, or creating ship content of him for any reason on the grounds that it would be considered a “proship.” I told them (and I stand on this) that it’s not up to them to police the thoughts of other readers, and that aromantic people have widely varying lifestyles and experiences and do not need to be infantilized that way.

This turned out to be a bad move on my part, because it brought with it an onslaught of alt accounts coming in and "innocently" kicking up what I now refer to as the “prosp-aro” debate every time they had the chance. But because of this and what a common occurrence it was, we started being able to pick out the alts. And we realized that this group of people had been using the same alt accounts with different names to antagonize certain readers they’d decided they hated, and it had gone on for a long time.

I did a lot of investigative work in dms trying to figure out who all was responsible for the harassment, and settled on a list that was vetted by three different people who knew about the clique. And all three of these people insisted that, while Laci was in the group and in a lot of the screencaps saying pretty dubious things, that she was good people. So I believe them, and let Laci stay. This group was banned on April 3, 2024, and contained the following users:

-          lilnatx (nat)

-          suitino (sushi)

-          jj_the_jet_plane (layden)

-          rivsticks (jasper)

-          atheimee (athena)

-          jinxs.com (lanx/jinx)

-          smartestginger (nico)

-          thereallandofbugs (bugs)

-          rosienemui (rosie)

These were the names they were known by on the Discord. I don’t have the Tumblr accounts tied to these identities. But some might be the same. I know a lot of them are here.  It should be noted that jinx was later unbanned due to pressure from Laci that they had been banned in error, after the fact. We allowed them back in after a few days as a favor to Laci since the situation seemed like it was very stressful for her. This would prove to be yet another a mistake since, as you have probably seen in the screenshots from the night before last, jinx rapidly escalated things to another level while I was trying to figure out how to handle crimson’s unbanning and subsequent rebanning an hour later.

Clique #2

Phew. Still with me? Great. The second group we needed to ban was one that actually started long before the first one, but was a lot smaller and comparatively more subtle. This group, to my knowledge, cropped up around the time that ep. 39 of Nevermore was released. (11/10/22) We knew about this group but not who all was involved in it or in what capacity for a very long time. They would consistently post things on Tumblr trying to start a scandal. I recall posts alleging that we were racists, or SA apologists, or that we were sending death threats to a random confessions account.

To be clear, these allegations are completely false. This clique will say anything. Like a recent post one of them put up during this discourse said that hiwi (our mod) is both a r*pe apologist and a childhood friend of mine and that’s the only reason she hasn’t been banned. Hiwi is absolutely nothing of the sort, and I have never met her in person. In fact, she lives on the other side of the continent.

Now, this clique is a little different than the first. The first, to my knowledge, was a group of friends that got toxic and felt morally superior about their opinions and it all kind of got away from them. The vibe was a little catty, I guess. Gossipy. But this clique has more of a stalker vibe. It’s dark.

They’ve had it out specifically for me for as long as I can remember. And some of them (at least one, at all times) would subscribe to our patreon, both to sow dissent in our stream chats and also to leak literally all the content back to the others, including me talking about random shit like what I ate for lunch. Just so they could like. Laugh about it, I guess. I’ll never understand why. [Editing note: because in the final moments of proofreading this post I see one of these people has made some master post about what a terrible person I am? A lot of those screenshots are from Patreon channels and the guy STILL has them laying around. I’m telling you, they stole everything that wasn’t nailed down.] 

The biggest grievance this clique had is that any ship with Montresor is an “SA fetish ship” because to them he is a r*pist because of how he made Ada bark (?) and since Montrada is canon, that means we are supporters of SA, and that Morella and Ada should be together instead. Listen, I’ll level with you, this one baffles me. I don’t even know how to begin to untangle it. But if you see a lot of vitriol about us being SA apologists from these users, it’s because Montresor exists. That’s pretty much it.

You can ask them for screencaps ‘til you’re blue in the face, but unless they build fake ones from the ground up, they’re never going to be able to back up their wild claims. Simply put, they’re provocateurs, and they use the scariest words they can to whip people up into a panic.

We became aware that they were leaking patreon content when one of them was caught publicly referring to things that were being said behind a paywall when we knew they weren’t a patron. It unraveled from there.  People who knew about their antics shared screenshots and information with us, and we finally realized the scope of the clique’s hatred and banned whoever was even left in the Nevermore Discord. But they continue to be active in the community on tumblr. You’ll have seen them around. They were banned on 5/11/2024 and the names involved are as follows (again, a mishmash of discord names, nicknames, and tumblr accounts):

- percy (gremlinguy145 on tumblr)

- queenmorningrose (annabel-lee-nevermore on tumblr)

- spoopycactus630 (spoopy-nevermore-dump on tumblr)

- grif/horrorshow (conscience-grim on tumblr)

- unreqiknizd

- duke aralt (westofthestyx)

- eden (sapphic-mad-scientist on tumblr)

- priemium

Again I’d like to reiterate. The point in sharing these names is not to incite any sort of response against these people. But they are folding themselves into the fray and doing what they can to whip everyone else up into a mob, and all as we’re talking about a discord server that they have been banned from for months now. The above context is also relevant for the next section, which is why you’re all here in the first place.

What the hell happened with Crimson?

I hope it’s not confusing, but now we’re going back to 3/14/2024, before anything I just outlined above had come to light. The cliques were quietly doing their harassment and baiting and raiding and whatever-the-hell behind the scenes, but Flynn and I and the mods were blissfully unaware of how bad it was getting. We get a dm from Laci. The same Laci who was part of Clique #1 and was rescued from being banned with the others by her friends outside the group. Jinx’s friend, who managed to get them unbanned as well. You have probably seen these screencaps already, but I will show them to you again, just in case.

Sufficed to say, we were immediately alarmed by the information Laci shared in her DM with us. Now, I want to be very clear about this because it’s been lost in the game of telephone. What Laci outlines in her dm to me, were the events that occurred between six users (including crimson) in a group chat with minors. Everyone in the evidence was censored (pfp and username), as was the image that crimson showed them. When I asked, Laci agreed to give me one name of one of the minors in the dm. I’ll call them Alice, but that is not their real name. I asked if I could talk to Alice about this, I was told by Laci, no. Alice doesn’t want to talk. I was like, ok I understand, that’s fine. 

I hope it makes sense when I say that it is not feasible for us to moderate the things that happen in peoples’ dms. As you’ve seen above, the mod team doesn’t usually get involved with drama unless whatever is happening is directly affecting the experience people are having in the Nevermore Discord because that is all we can see and the only place we have any real authority.  But this was obviously a special case. We banned crimson very quickly without asking any follow-up questions, because of course we did!? I’ve seen people say I’m harboring or defending crimson or that we’re buddies but we barely spoke, ever. They were a stranger to me then, and they still are now.

But something about the entire situation wasn’t adding up to me. And I want to be clear that none of this is in any way meant to discredit csa survivors, I’m really just trying to put you in my headspace and walk you through my thought process. But I found that the evidence was just, sort of strange. Laci started her dm explaining that she found this information out because she and a group of people were investigating crimson for ‘art tracing’ which felt, to me, like a bizarre non-sequitur and totally irrelevant next to the evidence of them showing nsfw content to minors. Petty, kind of. Like I wanted to ask – why were you doing that in the first place? People trace Flynn’s art all the time. As long as they’re not selling it, it’s not a big deal.

Most of the crops are from a PC but the windows are oddly small, and only contain a couple messages at a time. Some have American formatted time and some have European formatted time. So different users, I assume? The names were blotted out, which I would understand for a public call-out but not for a private report to the mod team. Laci was not in this gc at any point in time, despite being the one to report. 

One of the users was apparently 12, to which I ask – what is a 12-year-old doing on discord at all? If we knew who they were, we would have reported the account. Discord is not a safe place for a child that age, let alone a small group chat. Along with 18-year-old Crimson, there was also a 22- and 17-year-old in the chat, which left us wondering – why hadn’t anything been done?

I had no evidence that anyone ever told crimson they were minors, and I feel if it existed, it would have been in the screencap dump (I find that sometimes a noticeable lack of key evidence is evidence in itself). No one seems to have tried to kick crimson from the group chat or report their account for inappropriate behavior. Then there’s the fact that this is a group chat. Anyone in it can leave at any time. 

Then I came across the messages that started this whole gc, and it only got stranger when I realized Alice started it, called it “Women Lovers” and created it “so we can talk about Nevermore women without having to filter ourselves” after they all reacted to a sultry but sfw drawing of Lenore that crimson had made and posted in our hideout channel. And all that made me wonder why Alice didn’t just kick crimson, if she had admin power?  Do you see what I mean? It’s just all a bit head tilty. I noticed it at the time. But I said nothing. Because it didn’t matter. Crimson, no matter what happened, exposed minors to nsfw content. And that’s on them. And I’ve never in my life defended it. We banned them.

Crimson was beside herself. She came off humiliated and apologetic, and insisted she had no idea and begged to come back to a community she said she loved. But we told her no, there’s no coming back from doing what she did.

Time passes and we uncover Clique #1. And while we figured out who the main players were, I dmed with Laci. And it was Laci herself, who tells me that it was Alice who made most of Clique #1’s alt accounts, and that it was Alice who used those alt accounts to harass people and try to get them to start fights or say something that might get them in trouble. 

And I’ll be honest with you, the mod team still didn’t think much of it, outside of – we need to figure out which accounts were the alts. So we did. We had several confirmed to us.  And those accounts were zeroing in on certain users that the clique didn’t like. At the time we noticed two notable targets in addition to the mod team. I won’t name them, it’s their business if they want to weigh in about all that. But in screencaps, they’ll be labeled Target #1 and Target #2.

More time passes and Clique #2 comes to light. As you can imagine, by now we’re feeling disillusioned, and very tired of trying to moderate shit we cannot see for ourselves. And that’s when crimson comes back to very hesitantly ask if they might be able to appeal their ban. It wasn’t until then that it occurred to us that Laci (on behalf of Alice) was the only one who ever reported anything to us about Crimson. 

And I want to just say that again. Because it’s gotten lost too. Laci was the only person who ever reported Crimson. There was not one single other person who ever sent a modmail or a dm or even a ping to anybody on the mod team. I have since (only yesterday) seen some screencaps that are rather skin crawly, but even those happened in yet another side server. Thinking on this, the mods went back through the known alt accounts Alice had used. And they found that Alice harassed crimson both on her main account and on the same alt accounts that she used to harass the other targets.

By now, Alice is banned for completely unrelated reasons. Not because of what happened with Crimson. I’ve seen that one flying around and I’m sorry it’s just not true. It’s because she was relentlessly harassing and cyberbullying people in the discord we moderate. Laci is still there, but had lost my trust, for being involved with both the drama I’ve mentioned here and more that I don’t care to dip into. It’s ultimately irrelevant. But what am I going to say to Laci? “Hey, did you and Alice, by any chance, coordinate some kind of bizarre trap together to get crimson banned from the discord because you suspected them of tracing their art?” And once again. Because I want to keep this top of mind. Even if that were the case, it doesn’t make what Crimson did alright, and it never will. Sharing nsfw content in front of minors is a disgusting thing to do. And one that we frankly are really irritating about in the moderation of the discord. I’ve heard people say that we over-moderate when it comes to art. 

But all this stuff about a “known pedophile?” If it was known, then we were on the outs. And to even this minute right now, I don’t have any conclusive evidence that Crimson is a pedophile. The evidence I have is that Crimson shared nsfw with a group of people whose ages they did not know. Which is fucking gross. It’s an adult’s responsibility to make sure they’re speaking with other adults before posting things of that nature. 

But at the time, the way I read the situation is that Crimson had only just stopped being a minor and was egregiously negligent in how they were speaking and what they were posting, likely in part due to them not being aware enough of their adult responsibilities.  And hey. I know some of you are chomping at the bit. You can call me naïve for this! This is what I’m referring to when I say that I can be a real idiot. But I feel everyone has been very quick to call Crimson a pedophile. I know this is pedantic to say, but the prerequisite for being a pedophile is “being attracted to minors.” Based on the information I had at my fingertips, I did not think Crimson sought out these minors. Crimson was invited to the gc, they did not ask to join. 

I have seen discussions about all the things crimson did to their victims since we unbanned them but I have not seen screencaps to support that whole ‘marriage proposal’ thing, and again I think it sounds a bit odd coming as a pedophilia accusation from someone only one year younger than crimson.  

But you know what? I don’t know crimson. Maybe we were wrong. But even if we weren’t, I realize in hindsight that it was a stupid decision for the mod team to give them a second chance. We didn’t have anyone to consult about what happened because all the other people in the chat had been obscured from me and I didn’t feel like Laci would give me a straight answer. 

The mods and I felt at the time that crimson, like the other targets of Clique #1, had been singled out and that they deserved another very closely monitored chance in the discord, which they said they still missed dearly. I’m a bleeding heart, alright? A total sap. I know that. But being honest with you, I felt bad. It feels horrible to be singled out and targeted. And I was probably too close to that feeling at the time, seeing as we were on the tail end of finding out the Clique #2 had pursued me so relentlessly for so long. 

So for my part, I’m sorry. I made a rash decision that was influenced by some very personal circumstances. And we should have left it alone. Based on the evidence I've seen, I don’t know if I personally would call crimson a pedophile and certainly I wouldn't call them a known pedophile, but I am regretful that we risked it either way.

When I was trying to explain all of this in the west common room channel two nights back, things had boiled over and were already getting out of hand very quickly. A lot of brand new accounts were joining the discord with one word intros just to start conflicts in the public server with crimson. Alts. Either from banned users or burner accounts. And I got panicky. One of the mods paused the messages in west common room but no one besides me was available to handle the situation at that moment. Reacts about being silenced were pouring in and I felt pressured to quickly take over and try to explain. 

In my rush, I stupidly didn’t backread more than a quick skim. And I ate shit, y’all. You saw. One thing I want to state outright. I’m talking a lot about my thoughts and my feelings and it’s because I don’t wanna speak for Flynn or for the mods. But I didn’t make this decision alone. In fact, I was dragging my feet and being really lazy about okaying the whole thing. Just because I was busy, not because I was fretting over it or anything. But I had to be pinged and then literally tapped on the shoulder by Flynn, asking me to respond to mod chat when this was being discussed earlier that day. That doesn’t change the fact that I was part of the decision. I agreed to unban crimson. Foolishly. I understand that, now. 

I hope that now it makes some more sense though, how it came to happen. I never meant to hurt anyone. My own past and present feelings got in the way, and I own that. But in the moment, my personal intention was to give crimson a second chance because I felt that they’d been targeted by Clique #1. Not to ignore anyone’s concerns or make them feel unsafe, even if those were the ultimate outcome.  

So, completely underprepared and defensive, I jumped into west common room and I just. Blew it. Totally fucking blew it. I knew it instantly but it’s hard to stay logical when people are telling you you’re vile and evil and they’re sick that they ever thought you were a good person and that they’ll never see you the same way again. My mind went blank and I don’t really remember much of what happened next. But I said what I said, and I should have done better. 

I wish there was a word bigger than sorry. I’m beside myself. I know there was probably a way to make everyone happy. To make everything okay. But I wasn't clever enough to figure it out in the moment, and it eats at me. So it’s like I’m sorry for my poor judgment and my terrible choice of words, but there’s another layer where I’m also sorry for not matching how wonderful this community is with how wonderful (or well, unwonderful) I was two nights ago. I promise I am going to work harder to be better for you all.

Again, to every victim of SA and CSA, my heart is with you, more personally than you might realize. I don’t think I could have handled my explanation in a worse way. And I’m so so sorry.

Moving forward, I am also going to take an enormous step back from moderating and participating in the discord in general. I feel like a lot of this happened because I was still treating it like it belonged to a smaller fandom, like Shiloh’s. But realistically, I don’t have time to both moderate and make the series itself, and I really dragged my feet on being honest with myself about that. And for that too, I apologize. We’re going to get more mods, they’re going to have full control of the moderation, and Flynn and I are going to do what we love more than anything in the world and just make Nevermore.

I understand if you won’t be there for it. This is not a flattering picture I’ve painted for you. And you’d be well within your rights, to decide not to give us another chance. But it's been a pleasure to lurk here in this wildly talented corner of tumblr. And I’ll never forget it. <3 Yours truly, -Kit Trace

[chocochipsushi]

𝐀𝐧𝐲𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐦𝐲 𝐛𝐚𝐛𝐲

NSFW! minors do not interact! 18+ only!

🌸Word count: 8.3K

🌸AU: Toji, your father’s best friend, finally gets to call you his in public

🌸CW: cockwarming, public sex, exhibitionism/voyeurism, unprotected sex, light slapping (just once), indecisive (kinda psycho imo) y/n, fluff

🌸A/N: The final piece to this series!! I hope you guys enjoyed it as much as I did. thank you for all the support, especially since it was technically my first series here.

<< Part 1 🔞, Part 2 🔞, Part 3 🔞, Part 4 🔞

“Toji!” I squeal, throwing myself onto his hot body that’s been exposed to the sun for a while now. 

I hear my mother clicking her tongue. “Jesus, honey!” 

As Toji pulls his sunglasses up to squint at me, his other hand rests on my waist. Even with the furrow between his brows, his lips are slightly tilted in an affectionate smile.

I grin down at him. “Hi.” 

“Hey, sugar.”

My heart races at the pet name but I reach out to slap his shoulder in embarrassment anyway. As my parents get closer, I get off Toji to snuggle into his side, resting my head on his warm shoulder and my hand on his chest. He slides his arm around my waist to hold me closer to him. 

“How was the drive down?” Toji asks my father as my parents set up their beach chairs next to his empty chair. 

Smushing my cheek on the ball of his shoulder, I get myself comfortable snuggling with Toji. He rubs my waist affectionately while he listens to my father complain about the traffic. 

“Do you want your chair next to Mum?” My father pauses in his reply to Toji just to ask me. Though he knows what my answer would be already anyway, because he stares at Toji and me for a second before he rolls his eyes, “Why did I even ask?” 

I laugh as my mother passes him my beach chair to place it next to Toji’s. 

That eventful brunch that happened a few months ago ended awkwardly, to say the least. Toji brought me out for a drive after and explained what had happened between him and my father. In short, my father was skeptical but didn’t disapprove. He just needed some time to get used to the idea. Which Toji really helped with. He came over a lot, conditioning my parents to be comfortable with seeing him more, especially to accustom them to his lingering touches. Over time, they warmed up to the idea, and stopped skirting around the topic that Toji and I were dating. We still keep it down low, not wanting to scare my parents with our PDA. We don’t kiss with my parents around, and he doesn’t stay over at our home. 

My father and Toji had to do some explaining to their friends, specifically around the argument that Toji basically watched me grow up (which was put down when they explained that that was technically not true since he was out of the country from when I was nine, all the way till I was 24). They accepted the relationship way faster than my parents did, some even swearing that they thought we would have been a better match if I was born earlier or Toji later. But I guess it helps that Toji, despite being my father’s best friend, is a few years younger than my dad, and not to mention that my dad had me when he was only barely 21. My parents weren’t really good with their planning and I always teased them for it. 

“We got some beer, too,” my father announces to Toji as he points to the ice box next to him. “Ice cold.” He winks. 

Immediately, Toji sits up, making me slide off his body while his arm that had been around me falls away. I watch Toji reach out a begging hand. 

“Thank God. The heat is insane.”

My parents laugh. My dad passes him a can and the both of them crack their beers open at once. They bump their drinks before taking long, thirsty gulps. While I watch them, I subtly snake my leg around Toji’s, almost using him as a bolster. After almost inhaling half the can of beer, he turns around and offers me the drink. I shake my head. It’s not even noon yet, and I don’t think I would like to be drunk by four in the afternoon. 

Propping my head on the palm of my hand, I lay on my side as I stare at Toji’s back, observing the hard lines and curves of his muscles moving with every little movement he makes. I don’t know how long I have been watching him, but he turns to me a while later when his conversation with my father has come to a standstill. He stares for a while before he brings up his sunglasses to sit on top of his head, at the same time brushing his hair back. 

“Wanna soak in the sun, Princess?” 

I smile. Holding my hand out, I say, “Yes, but you have to help me with the sunscreen.”

Toji takes my hand at once and pulls me to sit up. “Of course,” he promises. 

So I take off my sundress, leaving myself in a two-piece bikini. I fold it nicely and put it into my bag, only to turn back to Toji to see him ogling at me with dark, mesmerised eyes. It makes me smile, knowing just how much this rock-like personality can be so expressive only when it comes to me. I take my sunscreen out of my bag and hold it out to him, which he takes, slowly. He is still staring at me. 

“You can do my back, Toji,” I chirp, immediately flopping to lie down on my stomach. 

He doesn’t respond and doesn’t do anything for a while. Then I hear the cap of the sunscreen bottle opening and I get myself comfortable. 

Toji’s hands are warm and rough, but so gentle and careful as they spread the lotion on my back. He is slow in his caress, almost like he wants to savour this moment, and I am enjoying it so much that I can already feel myself trying to fight off the brain fog. He even goes under the strings of my top piece, making sure that every inch of my skin is covered. 

And when he gets to my lower half, Toji shifts himself to kneel next to my hip where he lathers the cream down the back of my thighs and calves slowly. He makes sure to get my ankles too. But I have to snap my eyes open to look at my dad when Toji goes back up where he spreads the lotion on my ass cheeks, even sliding his fingers under the hem of my bikini to make sure he has covered all grounds. 

My father glances over then, making my heart pound and my body hot for a whole second before he looks away. I glance down at Toji and realise that he has situated himself so strategically that his broad back would be shielding my parents from the view of Toji fondling my ass. 

I suck in a breath and purse my lips as I turn my head to the other side when Toji starts sliding his hands between my inner thighs. His touch and caress are sensual as he rubs in the lotion, making me feel so many things at the pit of my stomach. He rubs his calloused hands up and down my inner thighs, his thumbs slipping under my bikini piece to give me the full experience of his fondling as he massages the meat of my pussy in circles. 

I am biting hard on my bottom lip when I lift my head and crane my neck to gape at Toji, who is already watching me. As if that is the exact thing he wanted, his lips stretch into an naughty smirk and he finally takes his hands off of me. He takes the bottle of sunblock and chucks it next to me. 

“Princess can do her front on her own.”

I watch in disbelief as he gets up, dusts himself off, and goes to take his seat in his beach chair next to my dad. They are already in conversation as they crack open another beer, and I am left hot and bothered on Toji’s beach towel. 

A little bit annoyed and very much frustrated, I flip onto my back and sit up, aggressively grabbing and opening my bottle of sunscreen. I am probably not as thorough as Toji is in lathering me up, but I can blame him for starting something he knows he cannot finish, leaving me wanting more. Once I am done, I throw my sunblock into my bag and go back to lying down, grabbing my own towel in my bag to throw over my face. 

I can hear my parents and Toji talking about how busy the beach is, how nice the weather is, and how long they haven’t been anywhere close to open waters. Taking in a deep breath, I drown out the conversation happening next to me, soon feeling peaceful and ready to take my nap. 

I don’t know how long later, but I wake up briefly to flip onto my stomach when I am aware of the sweat on my body. I rest my cheek on my hands and easily go back to napping again despite the cacophony at the beach. I am still in my half-conscious state, taking in all the sounds around me, when I feel a warm, wet hand on my ass and a tickle on my cheek. 

As I slowly wake up from the fogginess in my head, I feel a kiss pressed to my cheek, water droplets now on my skin. I hum and nuzzle my cheek on the back of my hand even more. 

“You look so good, baby,” Toji’s husky murmur warms my face as he presses another kiss to my cheek. He kneads my ass, his thumb playing with the hem of my bikini. 

“Wherem’re p’rents?” I mumble sleepily. 

“They went back to the car to get something.” Toji leans back away from my face now, though his calloused palm is still fondling my asscheek. “You guys parked far?”

I hum as I think, though I just end up almost dozing off again so I lift my shoulders slightly to tell him that I don’t know. Toji tsks and slaps my ass lightly before leaning down again close to my face. 

“Give me a kiss, baby,” he murmurs. 

I turn my head and pucker my lips, though my eyes are still shut. Toji presses a long and firm kiss on my pillows and I feel him give me one last caress to my ass before getting up, probably going back to his beach chair again. 

This time, when I try to go back to sleep, I find it hard to fully stay unconscious. So I attempt at continuing my nap for the next 10 minutes before flipping onto my back. Shielding my eyes from the sun, I turn to the side where Toji is still sitting alone, looking all intimidating, topless in his beach chair, the water droplets on his body glistening in the sunlight, his semi-wet hair in clumps. As if hypersensitive to my movements, he tilts his head to take a peek at me over his sunglasses. 

“My parents?” I wonder groggily, my voice hoarse and slurred. 

The corners of his lips turn down slightly as he pushes up his sunnies again. “Dunno.” 

I take a second to shut my eyes again and inhale a deep breath to wake myself up. Toji is already watching the beach goers again when I sit up, his arms resting comfortably on the arm rests, his one hand holding a beer can. 

I get up and rest my palm on his shoulder, making him look up at me as I move to sit on his lap, his wet boardshorts already sticking to my skin. Immediately, he moves his hands out of the way so that I am situated between his legs, sitting nicely on his thigh. Toji circles his arms around me for a second to transfer his drink to the other hand so that he could rest his cool palm on my waist. 

“You went into the waters, Toji?” I wonder as I play with his bangs. 

He hums in reply. That’s a yes. “Had a nice nap, Princess?” I nod to his husky murmur. He grunts and kneads my flesh gently. “Don’t wanna sit in your own chair?”

I shake my head and shift myself until I am leaning into him, my face in close proximity to his. “You’re more comfortable.”

“That’s ‘cause you’re making me lose my shape from eating all your leftovers,” Toji teases as he flicks the underside of my chin. He brings his hand down to rest on my lap now. 

“So you have a literal dad bod.” He doesn’t, but I grin at him cheekily anyway. 

He clicks his tongue and scowls at me, though I know he means it jokingly. Wrapping an arm around his nape, I lean into him and rest my head in the crook of his neck, half-crossing my legs so I can be closer to him. The man sets his beer can back into the cup holder of his chair so he could rest his palm on the curve of my ass. I am enjoying the nice breeze when I feel his hand caressing my mound, his fingers lining and toying with the hem of my bikini bottom. It only makes me hum in content as I move to stick my ass out more, giving Toji more to hold in his hand. 

Taking that as a good sign, he curls his fingers under the fabric and starts stroking my skin with the back of his digits. I lift my head slightly to kiss him on his neck. Toji’s other hand that had been on my lap slithers to wedge itself between my legs, his thumb rubbing a spot on my inner thigh. 

“Toji…” I try to murmur as a warning, except it comes out breathy and sultry. 

His chest rumbles beneath me as he hums. “Hmm? You alright, baby?”

I decide to stay quiet and nod my head, wanting to see what Toji would do next. Not at all to my surprise, he starts inching closer to my crotch, finally rubbing the back of his thumb on my clothed pussy. I cannot help but to rub my thighs together, at the same time allowing Toji to push the crotch of my bikini aside, the back of his thumb sliding between my lips. Forcing his thumb between my legs, he manages to find my lips gradually being lubricated with my juices. He hums in satisfaction, having found what he wants. 

Using his knuckle to rub and tease my lips open, he slides his thumb up and down my slit. He finds his way back up to my clit, smearing the little nub with my cum. Toji tilts his head to press a kiss to my hair, almost like a sweet gesture, before rubbing my engorged clit with the knuckle of his thumb. I sink my teeth down on my bottom lip as I cling onto my boyfriend, my nails digging into his flesh. Toji slips his other hand away from my ass, only to give me a light slap to my ass cheek. As if to soothe me from the sudden jerk my body did, he caresses my waist, running his rough palm up and down my side. 

I widen my legs just a little, giving Toji more access to my pussy and at the same time trying to feel up his erection unsuccessfully. Frustrated by the space restraint for my thigh to be rubbing on his tent, I take a hand away from around his neck and rest my palm on top of his cock, feeling just how warm and hard the bulge in his boardshorts is. Experimentally, I give his erection a stroke. Toji lets out a low groan.

Dipping his hand deeper between my legs, he finds my pussy now seeping with my juices. Squeezing my thigh with his hand, he teases my entrance with his thumb by rubbing my hole before slipping his finger inside of me. I moan at the sensation of his rough digit in my cunt, my hand on his crotch squeezing the rock hard tent in his shorts. Toji moves his thumb in and out of me slowly, fingerfucking me at the beach where my parents are soon coming back to. 

Suddenly reminded of my parents, I widen my eyes and still my body. Toji feels how stiff I have gotten and stops what he is doing. He dips his head so that his lips are brushing my forehead. 

“Everything okay, Princess?”

I move on his lap so that I am properly clinging onto him now and my head is right next to his. I squint into the distance and spot my parents walking back with bags in their hands. Feeling Toji slipping his finger out of me, I quickly turn away and grab hold of his wrist, keeping him there. He looks at me worriedly. But I give him a sweet smile and lean in to give him kisses on his lips. 

“Keep going, Toji,” I murmur softly, sultrily. 

He doesn’t need to be told twice. Rubbing the length of his finger along my puffy lips, Toji leans in to kiss the spot below my ear. “You’re getting wetter, Princess,” he whispers, his hot breath tickling my earlobe. 

Seeing my parents getting closer, I bravely whisper back, “Wanna put it in, Daddy?”

Toji is always a daredevil when it comes to sex, but I know that he would never agree to this if he had known that my parents are returning. However, since he can’t see them from where he is sitting, he readily agrees by taking his hand out of my bottom and pushing me gently off his lap. As I get off him, I bend over to grab his towel, only to suddenly receive a slap to my ass. I hear Toji let out a needy groan behind me. 

As I spread out the towel to drape over the lower half of my body, Toji pulls me closer by the hip before pushing aside the crotch of my bikini bottom. I lower myself slowly until I feel his tip poking between my lips. Shimmying my hips to fit his cockhead between my folds, Toji squeezes my waist and pulls me back slowly, allowing me to take his size in. Toji groans, and I don’t even need to turn around to know that he probably has his eyes shut and his bottom lip caught between his teeth. He always enjoys the first time he enters me. 

I am still getting myself adjusted to his girth as I slowly take in his cock when my mother shouts my name, sounding just a few metres away from us now. “We got ice cream!”

Immediately, I freeze and my entire body goes cold. Toji, always the one that takes care of everything, tightens his hold on my waist and curses under his breath as he pulls me to sit down, completely taking him in now. I let out the most pornographic moan and Toji lets himself enjoy my pulsing tightness with a low groan before he gathers me quickly towards him. He carries my legs and brings them to rest on his thighs so that I am sitting on him, facing slightly to the side. 

“Daddy—”

“Shh, baby,” Toji hisses, now making sure his towel covers our connected parts well. 

I turn to give him a pout for the tone he used with me. He cups my chin and pulls me in almost roughly in his haste, giving me a quick apology on my lips. It is an unexpected but heart-fluttering act that has my pussy throbbing around Toji’s meat. Embarrassed, I lean into his chest and rest my head on his shoulder, hiding my face in his neck. A few seconds later, my parents finally join us again, this time with a few bags in their hands. Toji squeezes my waist as he turns to them. 

“Got more beer,” my father announces with a grin, lifting the bag in his hand. 

“Good, ‘cause this was the last one,” Toji says as he presents the can in his hand.

“And we got ice cream,” my mother says as she fishes out my favourite ice cream from her bag and holds it out to me. 

I gasp and move away from Toji. “Thank you!” I am so excited that I have a hand on Toji’s abs, pushing myself up slightly to reach out for the ice cream bar. 

Toji’s body tenses up, especially when I sit back down with the ice cream in my hand. I turn to him and see him widening his eyes slightly at me in warning. I give him an embarrassed giggle. Holding the ice cream out to him, he takes it and opens it before giving it back to me. 

“You went into the water, Toji?” my dad asks as he plops down on his chair with a new can of beer. 

Toji takes one last sip of his and crushes up the metal cylinder in his hand. He hums. Before my mother returns to her own chair, she passes Toji a new can of beer. He opens it and takes a long swig of the golden liquid. 

“Yeah. It’s nice,” he finally answers. 

My dad glances at me, realising that my body is not wet. “You didn’t go?”

I shake my head. Before I get to reply, Toji mutters, “She was napping the entire time. Just woke up a few minutes ago, this Princess.”

“She slept on the drive down here, too,” my father mutters. 

Toji clicks his tongue. I stare up at him and he gives me a mock scolding look. “Sleepyhead,” he says, smacking the side of my thigh. 

My pussy clenches around Toji’s cock, making me blush when my boyfriend starts caressing the spot he abused, his eyes dark on me. My father stands up and takes his singlet off. He turns to his wife next to him. 

“Shall we go in the waters too, honey?”

My mother immediately takes off the skirt she is wearing so she is in her bathing suit. She agrees, “It’s so hot today.”

Toji looks up at the two of them standing and says, “The water’s cool so you’ll like it.”

“You two want to come?” my father invites. 

Toji lets me answer for us, to which I shake my head. He turns to my dad and promises, “We’ll take good care of the beer.”

“The only person I’m worried about getting to the beer is you, Toji,” my father teases. Then, he calls out to my mother and they both start towards the sea. 

Now that it is just the two of us, I move away from the hard wall of muscles to look at my boyfriend. His eyes immediately flicker down to my lips where I am giving my ice cream kitten licks. As I start to say something, he pulls me towards him with a hand on my nape, his lips already on mine. I spread my lips as I let a moan into his mouth. Toji’s tongue slips between my pillows and hums when he tastes the sweetness on my tongue. He kisses me with hot passion, with overwhelming love, with gentle caresses. By the time he breaks the kiss, I am heady and dazed from the kiss, my pussy probably slobbering all over his meat. He brushes my hair away from my face as he slides his hand along my cheek, finally leaving his hand cupped around the back of my neck and his thumb resting behind my ear. 

He presses a kiss to my forehead and places his chin on top of my head, my face now buried in the crook of his neck. I can feel the rumble of low voice reverberating through his chest as he murmurs, “Naughty girl. You knew they were coming, didn’t you?” I don't say anything. After all, how do I lie to someone who knows me even more than I do myself? Toji rubs my arm. “Today’s a nice day, huh, baby?”

I nod my head. Toji is quiet as he watches the people on the beach. After a few moments, I move away from his body and frown, “Aren’t you going to touch me?” 

He looks at me over his sunglasses, a teasing look in his eyes. “Huh. Aren’t you a little daredevil?”

I whine and pout, so Toji rests his warm, heavy palm on my collarbone, caressing me gently as he moves his hand closer to my chest. He leans in to drop a kiss on my shoulder, at the same time prodding me in a different spot with his cockhead as he moves closer to me. 

“So many people are watching, sugar,” he mutters, now lining kisses across my neck like an invisible necklace. His hand drops to my tits now, brushing his knuckles on my mounds, over and over. “And this is a kid-friendly beach.”

I tilt my head back with a low moan when he starts making out with the side of my neck, right where he can feel my pulse pounding against my skin. He is fondling, almost playing with my tits now. If it weren’t for the heat of the sun, I would have thought we were in the confines of a private space. Attempting to fight against the tantalising pleasure Toji is swallowing me up in, I dig my fingernails into his skin as I grasp onto his bicep. 

“Toji… Daddy…” When he wouldn't stop, I have to swallow that haze clouding my mind and snap in a terse voice, “Toji.”

Finally, he lets go of my skin with a dissatisfied groan and drops his hand to my lap. His cock is twitching between my soaked walls, harder than he has ever been. I lift his sunglasses to rest them on top of his head. His dark eyes are on mine, almost begging. 

“You asked me to touch you, sweetheart.” 

Is he whining?

I bite back a smile. “I know, I’m sorry. I didn't mean it.” He gives me another pleading look. He looks very stupidly cute for a grown ass man who is pouting. “Heat of the moment and all that.”

Toji lets rip a loud groan, his final tantrum thrown as he crashes his forehead against my collarbone. “Fucking cock tease,” he grumbles under his breath. 

I slap his bicep as I pout at him, to which he only rolls his eyes. I whine and move towards him to kiss him on the lips as an apology. “You weren’t going to fuck me here anyway,” I say, except it comes out more as a question than a statement. 

“Oh, I was, honey. Have I ever denied you of anything you ever wanted?” I think about it, and with a pink tinge on my cheeks, I shake my head. Toji sighs. “Whatever. You’ll just have to cockwarm me until I’m soft again.”

I laugh because that is never going to happen. But I indulge him as I nod, leaning in to drop a kiss on his cheek. Toji leans back and takes a long sip of his beer. I go back to finishing my melting ice cream. Toji’s other hand caresses my back absentmindedly, his fingertips drawing lazy circles. 

“Toji,” I complain. He isn't helping the situation. 

He darts confused eyes to me. “What?” I let out a louder whine when he rubs my waist cajolingly. He is even more puzzled now. “What, baby?”

“Your hand!” I finally groan. 

Toji quickly removes his hand from my body, lifting it in the air in a surrender. “Didn't know you didn't want to be touched at all. Sorry.”

Another groan immediately comes out of me as I throw myself at him, burying my face in his neck. He isn't sure what to do, especially when I’d just scolded him for touching me. But I blindly grab his wrist and slap his palm on my back. So he strokes me gently, almost carefully. He sets down the beer in his other hand to brush my hair behind my ear so he could drop a kiss on my temple. 

“You alright, Princess? The sun too hot for you?” I shake my head. “Hungry?” Another shake of my head. “Tired—? No way, you slept so much. Thirsty?”

I finally give up and lift my head off his collarbone to whisper in his ear, “I’m horny, Daddy.”

“Jesus, baby,” Toji curses, his body relaxing against me, his hand now comfortably rubbing my back. “I thought you were mad at me.” When I huff and rest my cheek on his shoulder unhappily, he asks, “Can’t even wait till we get to the beach house to settle down for the night?” I shake my head. Even if we did get back to the beach house, my parents would be there, cockblocking me from getting fucked real good. “What should we do then? Hide behind some trees?” 

I lift my head with a hopeful look at that idea, which only receives a disbelief chuckle from him. I moan when he gives me a light, teasing slap to my cheek, my gummy walls fluttering at his gently mean action. Is he trying to drive me nuts?

“Not happening, sweetheart,” he states, still smiling, obviously enjoying how much of a spineless slut I become when I am horny. “I have a better idea.”

I am asked to get off of him, much to my dismay and annoyance. But he promises me that I would have my way as long as I am a good girl for him, which I am, though with some sulking. 

Toji packs up our things and tells me to wait there while he looks for my parents. I watch him cross the beach, observing the way women are noticing him. It makes me so smug that this man is mine, especially when he walks back to me with a cheeky smile and takes my hand in his. He picks up our belongings and walks me to his car. 

We’re off as soon as he keeps everything in the boot, heading off towards the beach house where we would be staying for the night. He reaches over to place his hand on my knee, massaging my inner thigh sensually. I lift my legs to rest my feet on the dashboard. 

“What did you tell my parents?” I wonder as I watch his hand creep closer to my core, his veiny hand slipping under my sundress. 

“That you’re cranky and moody, so I had to bring you back.” I whine and smack his arm, though he merely chuckles. His hand finally reaches my crotch. He rubs my pussy over the fabric of my bikini and I eagerly spread my legs. Toji slides my swimwear aside to swipe the tip of his finger along my lips, only to curse. “Fuck, Princess. You’re so fucking wet.”

Sliding two fingers inside me easily, he pumps me slowly with his digits, allowing me to rock my hips against his thrusting motions. I move to press my cheek against his arm as I let out sensual moans. At every stop light, Toji leans in to kiss me, the both of us making out until the car behind him has to honk to make him move on a green light. I have to take several deep breaths as I watch Toji lick his lips and swipe the corners of his mouth with his fingers, his other hand still playing with my wet pussy. 

By the time we are parked outside the beach house we are staying at for the night, Toji is bricked up so hard that he throws me over the shoulder the moment I get out of the car and storms his way into the accommodation. He fumbles with unlocking the door for so long that he almost has to break down the door. But once we are inside, Toji wastes no time. He throws me on the couch and I grin at him as I wiggle out of my bikini bottoms. Throwing the fabric at my boyfriend playfully, Toji catches it and presses it to his nose, giving it a long and good sniff. 

He lets out a long moan, his eyes rolling to the back of his head. Then, he sets his lustful gaze on me, throws my panties to the ground, and stalks over to me like a predator. With his hands on my bent knees, he slides them under my thighs as he drops himself on the couch, crouching as he lifts my legs to rest them on his shoulders. I have to hold my breath as I watch his face get closer to my pussy. 

He glances up at me through his bangs and with those eyes still on mine, he swipes his tongue slowly along my wet lips. I shudder in pleasure, longing for some dopamine release. Toji readjusts his position to a comfortable one as he drops a line of kisses on my pussy. Then, he takes my puffy lips in his mouth, almost like he is making out with my cunt, his tongue digging between my folds and flicking at my hole over and over. My hands fall to his black locks, my fingers grasping around his soft strands as I arch my back in pleasure, my toes pointed and pressing into his shoulders. 

“Oh, Toji…” I whimper when the man enters a finger into my hole, pumping my wet pussy slowly while his mouth sucks gently on my clit. 

It feels so good being touched and pleasured like this, but I want more. I’ve been waiting since the beach and I don’t have the patience for foreplay right now. Tugging on Toji’s locks, I separate my boyfriend’s face from my pussy just enough to get his attention. My throat closes at the sight of the bottom half of Toji’s face glistening with my juices. He licks his lips, frowning in confusion at me. 

“Fuck me, Daddy,” I whine. Taking a hand off his head, I point to the door-to-ceiling windows facing the quiet beachfront. 

Toji quirks an eyebrow at me. “On the balcony, baby?”

It wasn’t what I had in mind but I still think about it. I shake my head. “Against the window.”

He leans back a little, surprised that I am actually being serious. “You want people to see?”

Moving so that I’m no longer lying on the couch, I flip around to get on all fours as I stare out at the beach facing our residence. “There’s no one,” I reply softly. Toji can’t help but to drop his head to latch his mouth on my ass, sucking and kissing my flesh, while his hand fondles with my other cheek. I look back to see him watching me. So I ask again, “Against the window, Daddy?”

He finally lets go of my mound. As he drops a kiss on my ass, he stands and leans over me, his sturdy arm wrapping around my waist to carry me off the sofa. He sets me on the ground and presses his lips to my ear to murmur, “Anything for my kinky little princess.”

Tapping on my butt, he urges me forward. While I walk over to the window, I turn around to see Toji pulling his cock out of his shorts. Feeling my heart jumping in my chest, I quickly turn back around to press up against the window and perk my ass out. Toji grabs my hip while his other hand reaches out to slap his meat on my ass cheek. Eager to finally be satisfied, I push my ass out even more. Toji lets out a low groan. 

Before he does anything, he leans down to press a kiss on my back. Then, he traces my ass crack with his cock and finally meets my throbbing pussy with his tip. We’re both groaning as he rubs his cockhead up and down my slit, coating his meat with my juices before he fits his tip between my lips, perfectly at the entrance of my cunt. 

With a hand on my hip and the other on my shoulder, he holds me there as he sheaths into me slowly. Toji lets out a long groan as his fingers tighten their grip on me. I just know that he is putting in a lot of effort not to ram into me completely. The moment he is entirely buried inside of me, Toji wraps his arms around my body, pressing me to him. Always wanting to be as close to me as possible every time we fuck, he snuggles his face into the crook of my neck. 

“Fuck, you’re so wet and warm around me, Princess,” he groans into my skin. “So fucking good…”

I let out a deep breath and place my hand over one of his. Sliding it down my body, I position his hand at my crotch. “Gonna fuck me, Daddy?” I pull his finger to rest on my clit. “Make me squirt all over your cock?”

“Fuck, baby,” he swears. He adjusts his stance and grips my hip tightly with one hand. “I’m going to ruin your pussy,” is all he says before he starts ramming into me like a dog in heat. 

With his other hand on my crotch, he begins rubbing at my swollen pearl, making me mewl and moan like a slut. I press my fingers into the glass window as I rock my hips, at the same time slamming my ass back against Toji’s cock every time he sheathes into me. The male lets out low, feral groans with every thrust, clearly relieved now that he is finally relieving all that sexual tension stored inside of him. 

“You’re so fucking wet, baby. I’m going to cum,” Toji growls. “Gonna put a fuckin’ baby in you, Princess. Fuck,” he curses. Feeling my tightening walls, he chuckles breathily. “Yeah? You like the idea of that, sweetheart? Wanna be knocked up by me, huh, d’ya Princess?”

I whine in embarrassment. The house is filled with the sticky, loud sound of Toji’s hips slapping against my ass every time he pounds into me. It is hot, and honestly so dirty that I can’t help but feel sexier. 

So I crawl my hands down the window slowly, until my ass is sticking up in the air and my back arch is so visible Toji groans and leans down to drag his nails over my skin, leaving red marks in his wake. Taking his hand away from my clit, he cups my ass cheek and kneads my flesh. 

“Oh, fuck, baby girl,” he moans, almost whining. His hand on my ass squeezing hard. “I’m cumming, baby. Daddy’s going to cum,” Toji grunts out. 

With his both hands now gripping onto my waist, he makes one final thrust into my soaking cunt and holds my hips pressed up against his cock as he shoots his seeds far and deep into my womb. He moans and whines my name the whole time, almost as if to ground himself. His hips twitch a few times as he empties more of his seeds inside of me. 

Finally, when his breathing slows down and his moans turn into grunts, I lift myself up, only to see a man standing on the beach, staring into the house, his one hand holding onto the leash of his dog. 

“Toji, there’s—”

I stop when he suddenly leans in and nuzzles his face in the crook of my neck, at the same time driving his cock deeper inside of me. He moans against my skin and calls out my name so breathily that my heart stops for a second, only to start racing. 

Feeling his hand creep down to my crotch, he rests his middle finger on my sensitive pearl. Toji rocks his hips just so slightly and caresses my swollen clit with his digit. My walls grasp onto his meat and I have to drive my nails into his bicep as I hold onto him, trying to stay grounded at his ministrations. This time, Toji tilts his head so he has his lips by my ear. 

“You’re so hot, baby,” he moans. His husky voice, his almost-dirty praises, and the way his digit rubs so gently on my clit make my heart soar. “Wanna fuck you all day.” 

He lets out a grunt as he makes a hard thrust into me. Toji pulls out slowly and just before he rams into me again, he adjusts his head to rest his temple on mine. It is at this moment that he must have finally noticed the man and his dog watching us because he freezes so suddenly, his finger no longer teasing my clit. 

“We have an audience, baby.”

“I know,” I answer breathlessly. 

Toji pulls back slightly, making me turn to face him. His eyebrows are furrowed. “You knew?”

I give him my most innocent look as I nod my head. “I tried to tell you but you ignored me.” 

His green orbs slide up and down between my eyes and my little pouty lips. He leans in and licks me slowly from my chin to my pout. Then, with a kiss, he grunts into my mouth and resumes his slow fucking. I whine when he taps lightly on my sticky clit. 

“Kinda hot, huh, Princess?” 

Toji grunts as he makes a slow but hard thrust into me, his tip pushing against my cervix. I let my eyes roll to the back of my head as my head thumps against his collarbone. 

“Having a stranger watch us fuck in your family’s beach house…” He lets out a breathy groan. Dipping his head down to nose the back of my ear, he mutters lowly, “Give him a nicer show, why don’t you, baby whore?”

A small gasp falls from my lips when he bends to bring up a leg, hooking his arm under my thigh so that I am opened wide and bare for our audience as my boyfriend continues fucking me slow and deep. Toji brings his other hand up to lick his digits before poising them on my clit and I immediately brace myself against the glass panes. 

The moment he speeds up his fucking and begins toying with my swollen pearl, my brain turns into mush. I can’t think, I can’t speak. Lewd moans and horny gasps are all that I can offer every time Toji grunts dirty praises into my ear. I know that the man and his dog can surely see the look of intense pleasure on my face. But Toji’s girthy meat is sliding in and out of his little cocksleeve, so tight and warm and snug just for him. The bumps of his veins, the ridges of his cockhead — they feel so good against my wet walls. 

“Oh, fuck, baby,” Toji groans into my ear, his tongue sloppily licking at my lobe. “You’re getting tighter. Gonna cum for me, Princess?” I can only bite on my bottom lip and nod my head. He sucks in a deep breath and massages my red pearl with more passion. I let out a whine, especially when my only standing leg trembles. Toji growls at how tight my pussy has clamped down on his thrusting cock. “You’re so close, aren’t you, little one?” 

I can only use whatever energy I am left with to hold myself up against the window and fuck myself back into his impaling cock. Our chemistry, our rhythm, our bodies, even our breathing, are so in sync that when Toji tightens his hands on my flesh, I throw myself against his body, my arms going behind me to snake around Toji’s neck. His arms wrap around my waist until our bodies are skin-to-skin with no spaces in between. He makes one last thrust into my tight pussy and it is the end for us. 

Toji has to bury his face into my neck as he bites down on my shoulder to muffle his loud groans and shouts. I can feel the pulsing of his balls against my ass, the flood of warm seeds in my pussy. Even through my black out of pleasure, I can hear the pornographic moans and screams from my mouth, my entire body twitching and trembling against Toji’s tight hold around me. I don’t think I have been visited this long by my orgasm. Every time I think I am about to come back down to earth, Toji makes a tiny hip movement and another wave of mini orgasm crashes through my body. 

By the time the calmness that only follows after sex blankets my body, I realise how close Toji and I are. I am still in his arms, the both of us standing before the window. If we just wait for the sun to set more, we might just look like one deformed person standing in the silhouette. 

I look out into the distance and notice the man with his phone out, definitely filming us. I let out a content sigh and turn slightly so my nose is in Toji’s hair. The older man lifts his head just enough so that he can look me in the eye. I give him a little smile. His green orbs flicker down to my lips, just staring for a few seconds before he cups my jaw gently and leans in to press his lips to my smile. I melt into his kiss, just letting him hold me. 

Finally, when we pull apart, I pull his arms away from my body as I give him a cheeky grin. “I think we were filmed,” I say as I stick my finger out in the direction of where our only audience is. Toji tilts his head to glance out the window, only to roll his eyes and groan. I try to step away from him. “But I think I want to keep that video. I’m gonna go—“

Toji immediately stops me, his eyes turning into slits. “You’re staying here.” I open my mouth to argue, but he interrupts me before I get a word out, already knowing what I would be complaining about. “I’ll get the video. You go clean up before your parents come back.”

I perk up with a bright smile. “You would?” 

He slides his calloused hands down my sticky waist before he steps back, now slipping out of me. I watch him walk to pick up his board shorts to slip them on. And just before he leaves for the balcony, he pecks me on the lips and flicks the underside of my chin. 

“Anything for my baby.”

“Oh!” 

I look up with round eyes, startled by the exclamation. Two ladies are blinking at me, looking left and right as if searching for someone. I quickly swallow the tart I am chewing and smile politely at them. They could after all be our company’s customers. 

“Hi.”

One of them gives me a concerned look. “Where is your father?”

I knew it. They’re our clients. 

Smiling apologetically, I murmur, “Sorry, my father couldn’t make it today. However, if you have any concerns, you may speak to me—“

A lady looks confused while the other is frowning. “Eh?” She scans my face for a moment before shaking her head as if to get rid of any misunderstanding between us. “I mean the man that—“

“Hey.” A warm, heavy hand rests on the small of my back, its presence already flooding my being with security and comfort. Even though I am aware of who the newcomer is, I tilt my head to look up, at once meeting Toji’s soft gaze. He leans down and gives me a soft, haste peck on my lips. When he parts from the kiss, his thumb rubs my back as he murmurs, “Mr. Kondo said he would buy us a TV for our new place as a wedding gift.”

“A big one?”

“65-inch, at least, I told him.”

“S-Sorry for intruding but…”

I had totally forgotten about the two ladies that had approached me before. I let out a small gasp as I turn to them quickly. “Oh, I’m so sorry!” I apologise anxiously. “You mentioned you were looking for my father, right?” 

There is a long beat of silence and the air around us is electrified by awkward tension. I take in the horrified looks and gaping mouths of the two females, their eyes anxiously darting between Toji and I. 

Ah. 

I tilt my body slightly and place a hand on Toji’s chest. He slides his palm down to rest on the curve of my waist. “This is my fiancé, Toji Fushiguro.”

“Oh— I—“

They are fortunate that someone calls out for them, saving them from their stuttering. With a quick bow, they take their leave. I watch them scurry off for a while longer before glancing up at Toji, only to notice his face coming closer. He gives me a quick, soft kiss on my lips, his hand on my side caressing me gently. He pulls away but his tender gaze is still on me. 

“What was that for?” I wonder, though I am not complaining. 

He hums. “It’s nice to hear you call me your fiancé.”

“Wait till we’re married and I get to call you my husband.”

“I think I would die.”

I giggle, which gets me a squeeze around my waist in return. He leads us back into the house when I complain that it is getting chilly. The familiar interior brings me back to the first time Toji and I were here, the place where all of this had started. 

Stopping at the foot of the stairs going up, I glance at Toji, who is staring into the dark corridor upstairs. Then, he turns to me, a cheeky glint in his eyes. 

“Shall we relive our first time, baby?” 

<< Part 1 🔞, Part 2 🔞, Part 3 🔞, Part 4 🔞

-

© chocochipsushi 2024 all works are mine, please do not rewrite/plagiarise

[all-purpose-dish-soap]

soap pick up line where reader goes up to him and says

“do you like magic? because ive got a rabbit and a wand we can use”

risky, so very risky

06 / 396 words

Soap peers at you, frowning over his pint glass. "What's a rabbit got to do with magic?"

Your teasing smile falls into a look of disbelief. "Are you serious?"

"Is this a joke or are you trying to waste my time again?"

"The rabbit from a hat trick?" You grope for the right words to explain. You didn't think there would be cultural context required for this pick-up line. "It's like the stock stage magician trick. How do you not know what that is?"

Soap scoffs, swirling his beer and turning his barstool so that he's leaning back on the bar and facing the other patrons. "You're takin' the piss. Rabbits don't fit in hats."

"That's why it's a trick. My God. Are there no street magicians in Glasgow? No silly magic shows?"

Soap takes a swig of his beer, looking amused by your reaction. "Wouldnae know if there were. Got better things to do than pay money to watch some dunce dressin' up rabbits."

"Unbelievable. Who do you hire for birthday party, then? Don't say clowns. No kid wants a clown."

"Dunno. Do people actually still hire out for that? Thought they'd moved on to high-tech shite. Video games." He cracks a grin and leans back with his elbows on the bar behind him. "Clown doesn't sound so bad. Maybe we hire you for a gig like tha'?" 

"Hilarious."

He shrugs. "Suppose you could hire one of those fortune-teller types who can read your palm and talk to animals."

"What? That sounds fake."

"Right, so you're saying rabbits do fit in hats?"

"That's not what I mean and you know it. They don't do parties."

"Aye, I swear they do. I thought about gettin' certified myself before joinin' the military. Make some extra cash. Thought I might like to be a cat whisperer."

You feel yourself make a face. "Why?"

"You really wanna know, hen?" He takes another sup of beer, but now there's a wide smirk on his lips. "You sure?"

"Why are you saying it like that?" You pause for a beat. "Why cats?"

"Same reason you've got yourself a wand and a rabbit, hen." He leans in. "Cause I know exactly what a pussy needs."

...

part 2

more Soap / masterlist tag

[jromanoff]

Study Break II R. George

Pairing: student!Regina George (2024) x law student!Reader

Warning(s): Reader not eating enough

Authors note: I’m in the middle of uni exams this week so I wrote a little something to indulge myself :)

Summary: College!AU - Regina is worried about your study habits and decides to intervene.

Word count: 1.6k

Regina leaned against the door frame, watching you hunched over your textbooks, completely engrossed in your studies. The thick civil code books were laying open on the side, several coloured tabs sticking out to keep track of the laws you needed to use for your upcoming exams. Regina thought it almost looked like a rainbow at this point. That was the only pretty thing about the stuff on your desk though, it looked like a bomb exploded with the mess you’ve made.

"Babe, can you take a break? I miss spending time with you," Regina pouted, hoping to draw your attention away from the books in front of you. Her pout usually did the trick. She wanted to have some quality time with you since you haven’t been spending time with her these past few days, too engrossed with your studies. You even stopped having dinner with her.

You glanced up briefly, your brow furrowed in concentration. "Sorry Gina, I really need to focus. These exams are important."

Regina sighed dramatically, crossing her arms as she walked closer to you. Did you just really resist her pout? "You've been studying nonstop for days. Don't you think you're overdoing it a bit?"

You paused, looking at Regina with concern. "I know, but I need to do well in this. It's important for my future. I don’t want to be a failure."

Regina softened, her concern for you overriding her desire for attention. Regina almost laughed at this realisation, her High School-self could never. "I understand, but I'm worried about you. You need to take care of yourself too."

You reached out to take Regina's hand, caressing it. "I appreciate your concern, babe. But I really need to study now, I’m fine.” you said with a reassuring smile, concentrating back on your books.

Regina frowned and decided she needed to change her approach, this was clearly not working. So instead of complaining or outing her concerns, Regina tried to engage in a conversation with you.

“What are you studying, anyways?” Regina curiously inquired as she saw her girlfriend so intensely focused.

She never asked you about the content of your studies before, because she probably wouldn’t understand it. She, on the other hand, always excitedly rambled to you about whatever she learned that day. From fashion designers to fashion history, Regina shared it all. You didn’t mind it, though. Seeing your girlfriend so excited about her studies made you happy too and extra knowledge never hurt anyone. It was a nice contrast to your law studies.

“Legal philosophy” you replied curtly.

“Sounds boring” Regina remarked. Her efforts were met with a dismissive attitude from you, causing Regina to frown in disappointment. But Regina wouldn’t let this deter her from trying again.

“What are you reading about now, then?” Regina asked once again, looking over your shoulder at the book you were currently reading.

“The Case of the Speluncean Explorers” you responded, perplexed by Regina’s sudden interest in your ‘boring’ law studies. Especially after she just complained about not getting any attention from you.

“The what explorers?”

“The Speluncean Explorers,” you explained, slightly exasperated. “It’s a fictional judgement where five judges with different opinions shed their light on a fictional case. Five explorers got stuck in a cave and eventually ran out of food so… they agreed to eat one person so the other four could survive. They decided who it should be by throwing a dice and when the remaining four explorers were rescued they got a murder charge. I really need to study now if you don’t mind.” You hoped this elaborate answer would satisfy Regina’s curiosity so you could refocus on your studies.

When Regina kept silent after your explanation you thought you managed to fend off your girlfriend for the time being. Wrong.

Regina felt increasingly ignored by your continued focus on studying and your dismissive attitude towards her. So she decided to retort to an old tactic – a kiss to divert your attention. Despite being in college now and attempting to leave her manipulative ways behind, Regina deemed this situation an emergency. You would definitely cave in after a kiss.

Regina put her fingers under your chin, turning your face towards her. Then, she leaned in and pressed her lips softly to yours.

That sudden display of affection caught you off guard, but as Regina deepened the kiss your resistance immediately faded away. The tension in your shoulders eased as you gave into your girlfriend. Regina gently took the book you were holding from you.

“Regina, no. I need to study” you pulled away and protested, but Regina just kissed you again.

“What was that for, anyway?” you questioned her as you finally broke apart.

“So you’d be focused on something else than your studies. I deserve some attention too, you know? Not only your stupid books” Regina smirked.

You narrowed your eyes at her “I know what you’re trying to do” you told her and turned back to your desk. As you attempted to pick up your books once more, Regina shot you an ice cold glare. "If you don't put that book down right now... I swear to god you'll regret it," she warned, her tone leaving no room for argument. Regina rarely used that glare on you, but when she did? She was serious about it. Her glare and tone of voice caused you to immediately put your book back down, holding your hands up in surrender.

"That's what I thought," Regina asserted, a smirk playing on her lips. "Now, you’re cleaning up this mess of books and notebooks on this desk first," she declared, taking charge of the situation and asserting her authority over the chaotic study environment you created over the last week. How you could even study in this mess was a mystery to Regina.

Reluctantly, you set aside your textbooks and notes as Regina took charge of making dinner in the meantime, bustling about the kitchen.

The aroma of home-cooked food soon filled the air, causing a low rumble to come from your stomach. You quickly finished cleaning up your stuff and walked to the kitchen where Regina stood behind the stove.

“That smells delicious” you told your girlfriend as you embraced her from behind, resting your chin on her shoulder.

“It does, huh? Can you set the table for me, please?” Regina requested.

“Of course” you replied, giving Regina a kiss on the cheek before removing yourself from her. You set the table for dinner and sat down, waiting for Regina and the food.

As Regina set the steaming hot plates of food on the table, you immediately started eating before Regina herself had even the chance to get seated.

Regina observed you quickly shoving down the food she made with concern. It's a confirmation of her suspicions – you hadn’t been eating well all week, too consumed by your studies to the point you forgot to eat. With a pointed look, Regina breaks the silence. “I'm definitely keeping a closer eye on you when the next exam period comes up. You're not taking care of yourself properly. You’re never skipping dinner with me again in an exam period," Regina said, her gaze unwavering.

You frowned at her and attempted to deflect her concern. “You really don't need to, that's asking too much of you." you insisted

But Regina's resolve remains unyielding. "I don't care what you think. I'm keeping an eye on you. And that's final," she declares, her words leaving no room for argument. With a sigh you accept defeat, knowing that Regina can’t be swayed once she has her mind set on something.

That’s one thing that hasn’t changed since high school: Regina always gets what she wants.

After dinner, you cleared the table and did the dishes together. Then, Regina insisted on cuddling with you.

Entering your room, you see Regina is already situated on the bed. She already removed her makeup and changed into something more comfortable.

"Come here, you," Regina said, opening her arms wide with a playful smile. "I need some cuddles."

You hesitated for a moment before relenting, changing into comfier clothes and joining your girlfriend in bed. As your head hit the silk pillow (that Regina bought for you, because according to her it’s better for your hair) you sighed in content. "I guess I could use some cuddles too," you admitted softly, smiling back at your girlfriend.

Regina pulled you close, wrapping you in a warm embrace. “Now, I know you’re tired so I’ll let you go to sleep in a bit, but you do need to promise me to give me attention tomorrow.” she said, softly stroking your hair.

“I promise, my love” you murmur, pressing a gentle kiss to Regina’s forehead.

Eventually exhaustion takes hold of you both, and you drift off to sleep, wrapped in each other's embrace.

The next day you would spend no time on your studies, but only on Regina. You were determined to make it up to her. You even took her out on a spontaneous date to one of the high end restaurants she loved to make up for the lack of attention you gave her the past week. Afterwards the two of you went shopping and then cuddled for the remainder of the evening.

And your exams? Passed with flying colours.

[bluesidez]

GymRat!Miguel Part 3

content warning: small food mentions, a little suggestive at parts so MINORS BEWARE, sexual tension?? 😗, insecure thoughts about a plus size body (may or may not be triggering for some), a few mean girls, college party, alcohol, drugs, mentions of throw up like once, a bad look for sororities (sorry, y'all are probably very wonderful people)

word count: 3.2k (NOT A DRABBLE WTF 😭) not proofread, if you see a mistake lmk

GymRat!Miguel's workout playlist is here! I had to stop myself from adding more songs because it’s already so long lol. I didn't even include any cool down songs.

Prev | Next ✩°｡ ⋆⸜ 🎧✮ Masterlist

GymRat!Miguel who wakes up without having to hobble to the bathroom for once. No morning wood because his dream of you was soft this time. You two were cuddled up on a couch with the world’s most fluffy blanket. He smiles to himself as he drags his feet to the bathroom. It was if dancing clouds and bubbles were floating around his head.

GymRat!Miguel who’s able to sit and chat with Ms. Beatrice longer today because his class doesn’t start until that after noon. He compliments her on the egg sandwich from the other day and she squeezes his cheeks when she thanks him as if he were a baby.

GymRat!Miguel who tinkers in the engineering building as he waits for lunch. He joined the small but mighty robotics team as soon as he found out there was one. There was a fighting robot division, and he needed to figure out the problems with his team’s robot sooner rather than later.

GymRat!Miguel who spots you at the student center having your lunch. He wastes no time to grab his food and book it to your table. He calls your name before he gets there, not wanting to startle you. You smile when you look up surprised to see him there.

"Can I join you?" he says, trying not to seem out of breath with how fast his heart is beating.

"Yeah," you say, arranging your things around. You push your computer to the side as he places his burito bowl on the table. "I'm finally getting to see you outside of lab."

In his mind, he takes a note of you being in the student center at this time. He wants to make eating with you a routine thing.

"What were you watching?" he asks, trying to curb the rush that your presence has on him. He opened up his bowl and started to mix his food, waiting patiently for your answer.

"This is a little embarrassing but," you pause to dump one of your nuggets in sauce. "I was watching someone explain the downfall of Chuck E. Cheese." Your voice gets softer as you finish your sentence, eyes avoiding his gaze.

You were so cute. And it's almost as if you've never met him, the ultimate nerd.

"Nothing wrong with wanting to know why more and more locations went from five animatronics to one. Or how they started to sell their pizzas under ghost kitchens," he says, taking a bite from his bowl.

You looked at him and your smile grew. Miguel could only think 'there she is. there's my girl.'

The two of you chatted about everything from malfunctioning Chuck E's to your classes to your food. Miguel was through the roof.

GymRat!Miguel who offers to carry your art portfolio case for you to the art building. Anything to extend your time together. Plus, why should you have to hold it when he's here? He holds the doors for you and presses the elevator buttons before you can even think to.

GymRat!Miguel who really loves when the elevator door closes and he can look down at as you talk away. Just for those few seconds, the outside world is quiet and it's just you two. In another world, he'd kiss you before the doors open. In another world, he'd tilt your head up and have you look at him when you speak, he wanted to read your eyes too.

You're staring at him expectantly, eyes reminding him of baby deers. He tilts his head at you, wondering why you're staring at him.

"Miguel the door is open. We have to leave before it closes," you say.

He's instantly broke back to reality.

"Right! Sorry," he says, heat rising on the back of his neck. He steps out and holds his hand in front of the opening so that the door doesn't close you.

"Thank you," you say, a giggle under your breath.

Miguel has done some pretty embarrassing things when it comes to you, but he didn't think it would bleed into when he was actually in front of you.

In this world, he needed to not give you the creeps. Get it together.

GymRat!Miguel who is ecstatic that you still want to come work out with him. You all plan to meet that Friday. You don't know what you want to work out, but you say you're excited. Miguel has tonight, Wednesday, and Thursday to plan the perfect workout for you.

Should he go buy a bottle so he can make you a smoothie? Or should he offer to buy you a smoothie afterwards? Do you even like smoothies? Maybe he should invite you to breakfast. Would you want to eat right after you worked out? You needed to eat to make sure you can speed up the healing process though....

GymRat!Miguel who waves you goodbye when it's almost time for your studio class to start, mind filled with so many questions.

Your friend turns to you immediately when Miguel is gone.

"And who was that?" she says, eyes shocked.

"He's a guy from my lab. His name is Miguel," you say, grinning in your hands. You felt like kicking your feet in the air, but alas, no time.

"He's super hot. Like, seriously," your friend says, moving her taboret next to her workspace. "I would hit it. Constantly."

"Please stop talking," you say, laughing along. "I'm not even sure if he goes for girls like me. I'd rather not get my hopes up." You wanted to keep yourself in reality and falling for Miguel might put you too close to the land of delusion. You figured that Miguel was just super nice, especially after you two worked so hard for that lab project.

Your friend stops and looks at you, she slams the liquin tin on the table and puts her hand on her hip.

"First of all, those "types of guys" love big girls, so don't give me that. Second of all, are you not seeing how he looks at you. He's giving you the biggest puppy dog eyes, like, ever." She picks the liquin tin back up and starts scooping aggressively at the sides. "You gotta be more confident! You're gorgeous, anyone with a functioning brain can see that."

You stand there stunned, shocked at your friend's outburst. "I am confident!" Partially true. "I just...don't want to be hurt."

"I understand that, but have you even asked if he likes you or not?"

You shake your head no.

"Exactly. The night is still young," your friend says, pointing her palette knife at you. "And if you don't go for it, I will."

"Oh my god, shut up," you say, throwing a crumbled shop towel at her. You still kept her words in the back of your mind, storing it for later.

GymRat!Miguel who paces in front of the campus gym, waiting for your arrival. He got up extra early and gave himself a pep talk in the mirror. It wasn't a date, per se, but he felt that it could lead to one if he played his cards right. He decided to just invite you out to eat, figuring you would bring your stickered-water bottle.

GymRat!Miguel who spots you before you even call his name. He waves, smile taking over his features. You wave back, and it isn't until you're ten steps away that he finally takes in your full outfit. Another two-piece that was going to be the death of him, the only thing was that this was in the flesh. He cursed under his breath before you got closer, brain short-circuiting at the fabric hugging your skin.

"Ready to go?" he asks, forcing himself to not look at your body and to look at your face.

"Yeah! I'm a little nervous but I'm ready to work," you say, following him to the door.

He opens the doors for you, "Nothing to be nervous about. You're in good hands."

He brings you to his locker so you can put your bag in there, not wanting anyone to snag your belongings.

You guys start at the track, walking a lap as a warm up. Usually Miguel would do a lap or two of jogging, and as much as he wanted to watch you bounce, especially on him, this was a beginner workout. He didn't want to scare you with how intense he can get. While walking, you guys chatted about little things. Miguel tells you how wasn't nearly this big four years ago, ensuring you that the path to get here can be hard. You tell him that you just want be healthy, not caring if you lost weight or gained muscle. Miguel was secretly happy to hear this because he liked your body the way it was, but he would roll with whatever you were feeling.

GymRat!Miguel who helps you stretch. You both sit on the floor and face each other with your feet touching. Miguel saw how much smaller your feet were compared to his and his heart fluttered. His mind was filled with a million voices rambling off new things about you.

"She's focusing so hard"

"How can a gym outfit be so hot"

"She's so close to me when we do this stretch"

"Her hands are so warm"

"Maybe I should have stretched her from behind too"

That last thought gets Miguel to move you guys to the next part of the routine. How is his head always in the gutter?

GymRat!Miguel who starts you off with dumbbells, giving you the 5 lb weights to start. He starts you off with a few shoulder and arm exercises, giving you tips and praise along the way. His touches linger on your arms as he corrects your form, watching your body intensely. His constant "good"s, "one more''s, and "uh huh"s hit you right in your core. You're thankful that you're out of breath and heated from the workout, otherwise you would have melted before him.

GymRat!Miguel who pulls out all of the stops, using the heavier weights for his sets. He screams on the inside when you cheer him on. You clap at the end of one of his harder sets, happy that he pushed himself. He bows in silly way, sweat dripping down his face and laughing at your actions.

GymRat!Miguel who spots you while you use a heavier weight to do squats. You wanted to go for the 15 lb weight even though it was your first time doing weighted squats. He didn't want you to fall over, so he stood behind you and held his hands in the air by your waist as you went down. He knew that he was supposed to be focused, but he couldn't help but to glance at your ass a few times. God.

GymRat!Miguel who ends off your workout with the bikes, you guys making it a small competition. He stands and cycles, watching as your jaw dropped. You started to stand but got a little scared and gave up quick. Miguel couldn't have that. He stopped moving and got up to be by your side.

"You got it! Don't be scared," he says, watching you work.

"I literally can't do that," you say, cycling a little faster.

"Sure you can! Try it, I'm right here," he says, encouraging you.

You fight your fear and stand up and cycle. "Oh my god," you say, breaths coming out hard.

"That's it, that's it," Miguel says, voice warm as he praises you. "You're doing so good. Keep going."

You push until you can't anymore, Miguel cheering at your side.

GymRat!Miguel who guides you to the showers after your workout. It sucks that he can't be in there with you. His imagination can only get him so far.

GymRat!Miguel who waits for you to come out of the bathroom, ready to ask you to go for smoothies and breakfast. He hopes you say yes.

GymRat!Miguel who is in awe again at how you look. How many two-piece sets did you have? How does he survive them every single time? He mutters up the courage to ask you if you wanted to go get smoothies, adding on that he would pay. You glow and say yes, stating that you love smoothies. He's soaring.

GymRat!Miguel who brings your food to the table, two wraps and two smoothies. A protein shake for him and a fruit smoothie for you.

"That was a really good workout today. You definitely put me to work," you say, unwrapping the straw to stab it through the top. You hum at the flavor as you take a sip.

"Good?" Miguel asks, and you nod your head with your thumb up. "I'm glad you liked the workout. I was excited to have a partner."

"A partner? Why didn't you invite us to join?"

You both look up to see a few girls standing by the checkout counter. Miguel notices them as the sorority girls from his literature class. They walk over to your table, eyes twinkling as they take in Miguel.

Miguel chuckles awkwardly, not knowing what to say. He didn't think he had to deal with them outside of class too.

One of the girls look at you and goes, "Oo are you a personal trainer?"

You're taken aback, eyes scanning between the girls. You're about to open your mouth to respond but Miguel gets to them first.

"No, we're workout partners," he says, snapping at the girl. "And we're kind of having a conversation right now so is there anything else that you guys want to say?"

The girl cowers a bit at Miguel's words, laughing as if he told a joke and twirling her hair. The leader of the pack turns to Miguel, "Sorry about that. We wanted to see if you could come to our party tomorrow night. It'll be super fun and we would love to see you there."

A party? Miguel hadn't gone to one since he moved on campus. He always wanted to experience a college one. He turned to you and saw that you just tapped at your phone, not looking to the girls.

"I'll go if I can bring her," Miguel says, tapping his foot against yours. You look up, shock in your eyes,

Some of the girls slump, and the leader tightens her smile, "Fine! That's cool. I'll send you the details later."

The girls walk off and you stare at them, eyes squinting.

"They're an interesting bunch aren't they?" you say, continuing to eat your wrap.

"Right?" Miguel says, turning back to you.

GymRat!Miguel who comes to your dorm, ready to walk you to the party. He knocks on your door, a little nervous. He had on a nice top, the top open a little bit and a thin chain around his neck. After a while, you opened the door and gobsmacked him again with your outfit.

"Wow," he says, standing in the door like an idiot.

"Is it bad?" you ask, body glowing.

"No, you look amazing," Miguel says. "Ready to go?" He holds his arm out, softly smiling at you.

You nod and intertwine your arm through his.

GymRat!Miguel who takes in the atmosphere, frat guys yelling by a pool table, a few girls dancing with red solo cups, some people making out on the couch.

For Miguel, it was a lot.

He turned to you, yelling to ask if you wanted a drink. You say yes and you both make your way to the kitchen.

There, you both are met with the sorority girls crowding the kitchen. Some of them are passing some pills around and others are chatting by the island. One of them looks up and sees you guys lingering by the entrance.

"Miguel! You made it! Come on have a drink," she pulls him closer in the room. "Want a xannie?"

"I'm good," he says, handing you a cup of Pink Whitney. You take a sip and turn your nose a little bit. You might have to suck it up to get through the night.

"I'm so glad you made it. I have something that I've been meaning to show you," she says, batting her eyes. She convinces him to follow her up the stairs.

Miguel yells over his shoulder that he'll be right back.

You stand in the kitchen, fingers tapping against your cup. You felt a little silly and out of place. You didn't know anyone else here and the people were cliquey.

You joined a few games of beer pong, trying to enjoy yourself, but you couldn't help but to think about Miguel.

You dance a little, joining some random girls in the middle of the room. The music is ok, but you were just trying to have a good time. After an hour or so, you get nervous. Miguel hasn't been back in a while.

You head back to the kitchen, thinking maybe he could be in there.

"If you're looking for Miguel, he's probably deep in a bed right now," one girl giggles as she comes up beside you, grabbing another drink.

"What?" you say, eyebrows furrowed.

"Yeah girl, why else would he be gone so long? I tried to go up there and the doors were locked. Just text him tomorrow."

Your hand grips your cup tighter, watching as the girl goes back into the thick of the crowd.

You decide to wait a little longer, scrolling on the same three apps back to back for another hour. You look at the time again and the 3 am stares back at you mockingly.

You figure that he's really not coming back down and open your Instagram to give him a text.

“Hey Miguel! I’m gonna go ahead and go back to my dorm. It's getting pretty late."

You walk back to your dorm, arms wrapped around yourself to brace from the cold.

GymRat!Miguel who finally makes it to a bathroom that's not occupied with some one hovering over the toilet. He feels out of it. Throwing back a few too many shots. He was trying to get back downstairs but there was always someone there to pull him back, offering something.

A shot? Sure.

A pill? No.

A game? Maybe.

The girl who brought him up there tried her best to get in his pants, but if he was being honest, he didn't even remember her name. Or any of the names of the girls that came in afterwards. He declined every one of them, just wanting to get some air.

He was able to check his phone.

3:35 am.

He sees your message and feels sick. He runs downstairs and out the door, the cool air sobering him up a bit.

"Fuck," he says hands to his head. He squats and texts you back.

"I am so sorry. I got caught up. Did you make it back safely?"

It was so late, there was no way you would respond. He fucked up.

He texted Gabriel, maybe his drunk mind pushing him to seek help from his little brother.

"So if I invite a girl to a party and leave her what are the chances that she will text me back? :((("

"Dude. It's almost 4am. And where is this so-called game that you have? Ik you're not asking me about anything"

"Gabri :(((("

"I'll be honest, she's probably blocking your number. IF she even has it lol"

Yeah. He fucked up.

dividers by: @yeribbon 🩵

a/n: Miguel's gym playlist is such a jarring difference from my own gym playlist. 😭 I left you guys with an extra long addition today because I have soooo much hw that's piling up and it's tearing me apart.

As always, leave a like and reblog. Leave comments please. 🥺 I want to see your reactions! Let me know how you feel. 🩵

taglist: @ghost-lantern @miguelhugger2099 @slushycoookie @emelie-s-h @lake-lili @obsessed-with-miguels-ass @scaleniusrm @superiorspiderass @lexluvswriting @flordelalunas @froggygal @vmpz8sauceee @famouscattale @nixinluv02 @jada-of-arcadia @spideykid22 @what-the-jams @julia4today @tojishugetiddies @samjinxx @sleeklyalisha @the-pan-liquid @prongs-lover @kikaaauu @urlocallocachica @wanderlustingcastaway @peachey-pie @ch3rry-bl1ss @girl-of-multi-fandoms @love-kha1 @manlikemilesmyguy @sillysillygoofygoose @monticellohoe

[moonlit-void-to-the-far-unknown]

The itch

An: so I’ve never written for TUA, I think, I haven’t written anything in like a long time cause my brain is made of worms most days, but the new season and mostly five in his new attitude? Personality? His almost soft tired of it all way, gives me the feelings. As a 28 year old women it’s odd that a 68 year old trapped in a 18 year old body works for me like it does but hey, I’ve liked weirder (cough I was in the Hamilton fandom cough) so enjoy this sort of bonding with Lila over the new mundane life and the exhausting reality of having to live it, because I love Lila and hate what they did to her and fives characters with the whole 7 year time line romance. Like why make her a mum of 3 and married to Fives brother just to ruin it like that. But anyway enjoy this weird fic.

Readers power: molecular manipulation, think piper from charmed, overhaul from my hero, uhhh it’s hard to explain but basically it means you can make things explode, freeze people and things by fucking with the molecular structure of said thing.

——————————————————————-

You wanted to scream, to smash things, to burn yours and fives apartment down, it had been six years of calm, six years of learning to enjoy ‘normal’. Six years of working at dead end jobs because you didn’t pass the god damn psych evaluation for the CIA, somehow you are far more ‘unhinged’ than your husband.

You and five spent 30 years together, a decade in an apocalyptic wasteland when you ended up teleported there by mistake, and then 20 years at the commission becoming trained and ruthless assassins. Now, now Five worked doing CIA investigations and you got stuck working at a grocery store gas station. It was calm, it was normal, it was absolute hell on earth and made your skin itch.

So sitting in the parking lot of the play place for your nieces 6th birthday, you didn’t know why you couldn’t make yourself leave your car, five was already here, he had texted you as much, everyone else minus Viktor who was in Canada, and Allison who hasn’t shown her face irl to any of her siblings in the 6 years, you just needed to get out of the car and walk in with the gift you signed from both you and five for Gracie. It was a set of toy weapons, knives like her dads old ones, and a few other random ‘play pretend’ things.

Closing your eyes you leaned your head back against the head rest, taking a deep breath. Almost hitting the gas when the passenger side door opened and slammed closed. Turning eyes wide you saw Lila, the exhausted mothers face blank staring forward

“I just needed a minute, just needed” you nodded

“Take all the minutes you need. I assume it’s like pulling teeth in there with Diego?” Lila nodded sighing loudly

“Fives the same way, just on other stuff, like deciding if he wants to go out to dinner or stay in and order pizza, or if he needs new underwear because the ones he has have so many holes in surprised they still count as underwear, or just simple things like the dishes, like how hard is it to wash a cup, it shouldn’t be as hard as it is, how hard is it to just tell me when you need a quiet night cause work was stressful, and you are exhausted from stupid people all day, i work retail, he acts like I don’t understand being tired of idiots…I just…” you paused looking back out the windshield

“It’s like your skin is on fire and nothing stops the itch of being a once highly skilled assassin who could fuck with peoples molecules and freeze them in time or make them explode?” You nodded looking at her

“I find myself flicking my hands out and remembering I can’t just blow up or freeze people anymore, it’s like an itch and anytime I explain it to five he just…”

“Doesn’t listen? Or doesn’t understand that you are used to how your life was and now that it’s different, it’s not bad but it’s eye burning mundane clock ticking by slower then ever reality?”

Nodding you sighed

“Diego, he wants to listen, he just, from what five always told me he had a hard time understanding others because his brain is just, frazzled and he feels inadequate, how they grew up I guess shaped them in every timeline. Five is just used to being alone he was alone for 30 years before we met, then I popped up and it’s just. I don’t think he gets that sometimes I just need him to..”

“Let you Help with the itching”

You nodded smiling at her

“He just, it’s been a lot, and we haven’t quite got the ‘normal life’ down just yet.” Lila nodded

“It’s not easy in normal marriage land either, 3 kids and a chunky husband who, doesn’t make it easier is….”

“Not helping the itching. Well how about me and you, when the itch gets too bad, we help each other? Maybe find a way to do something, go to a rage room? Do a fighting class something to feel the….rush? Of what we did before. Have Klaus or someone babysit the kids, be me and you and just….”

“Fighting each other like the before days?” You laughed nodding

“Yeah…I miss getting to kick your ass and having you kick mine…”

Lila laughed looking around

“We could start a fight club, you, me, Ben when he gets out of prison. Just….maybe we’ll get used to normal eventually….” You frowned nodding

“You know if you ever need anything, help with the kids, a friend to vent to when Diego is being Diego…I’m not to far from your guys place. I can always swing by, let the munchkin tornados beat up on auntie Y/N.” You smiled at her for all the mess you and her had been in against each other, she had become one of your closest friends and family members through it all.

Soon enough you finally made your way into the building, the screams of children everywhere, the smell of sugar and something faintly child everywhere. You spotted five by the ball pit, speaking with Ben, walking over you hugged five from behind sighing as you rested your forehead against his back

“Hello, love.” You squeezed him in response before looking up and over to Ben

“Ahh Benjamin, free from jail, good to see you didn’t die, love that you still look like you want to murder us all” Ben didn’t laugh, just glared at you before sighing

“Not in the snark mood got it.” You felt five squeeze your arm a bit pulling away from you, making you groan

Turning to fully look at you, he looked you over smiling softly

“How was work?” You looked at him blinking slowly before sighing and planting your forehead on his chest, groaning

“Ahh I see” his hand rubbed your back softly, his other lifting the beer to his lips.

“People are stupid. How hard is it to put a gas nozzle in a car….”

“Apparently impossible if what you tell me says anything” you looked at him nodding before turning to look around

“10 bucks says Diego forgets to put up the piñata like Lila asked him” five laughed slightly

“Nah 20 says Lila has a mental breakdown before cake is served” you looked over to where Lila stood with Gracie helping the young girl fix her party hat,

“Nah I think she has a breakdown after presents when she sees what we got Gracie” five laughed looking down at you, brushing the stray hair from your face, smiling at him you sighed softly again,

it seemed even if you wanted to rip your hair out from the new ‘normal’ reality you all had to live in, even if your skin itched from the need to return back to what life was before somehow, it was nice that you still had small moments, where normal wasn’t so bad, normal birthday parties for your nieces and nephews, seemingly normal holidays, and normal, non murder happy work. As much as you loathed admitting it, sometimes it was nice. Like now, now was nice.

[letstripdotcom]

9:00am- matt sturniolo x fem!reader

summary: it took a while for you to get used to matt. he was hard to read and could come off as mean. once you got to know him you guys started to become friends. after a long night out matt falls asleep in your bed.

warnings: smut bc you already knowwww

-

“y/n this is matt, matt this is y/n” my best friend nick explains. from what i heard, matt was a pretty cool person and i i was excited to meet him. “hey nice to meet you” i said cheerfully

“hey” he said flatly, giving me a flat smile. he walked off into the kitchen as nick and i got situated on the couch. that was rude. i thought to myself. matt definitely didn’t seem like the person nick had told me about.

after a while, matt had got situated on the couch with us and helped us pick out a movie. once we finally decided on a movie we all liked, we turned of the lights and got comfortable. matt sat on the other end of the couch and i cuddled up next to nick.

after the movie ended we were all hungry. we eventually decided on ihop, since it was the only thing open at this hour of the night. “i’ll drive.” i offered, getting my keys off the hook.

when we got to ihop i found myself trying to make small talk with matt, trying to see the side of him his triplet brothers saw. i eventually gave up on the conversation, feeling it was very one sided. we ate our food in almost pure silence, then left.

“i’m tired so i’m gonna head home. goodnight guys.” i said as we pulled into the driveway. i dropped the boys off and drove home. the whole drive all i could think about was the way matt acted. he definitely wasn’t the sweet guy i heard about.

-

i hung around matt more often, trying to figure him out, but almost seemed impossible. when i would go somewhere with him and his brothers, he would sit quietly and let them do the talking. conversations with him were almost impossible, because he would try to cut them as short as possible

one day i’m particular, you felt like you needed to know more about matt, and why acted the way he did towards you. you thought out what you were gonna say as you sat on the triplets couch.

“hey matt can we talk for a sec?” you whispered, trying to not be a distraction from the movie that was currently playing. “uh- yeah- i- sure” he stuttered, being caught off by your question. you guys got up and went into the kitchen.

you sighed, and decided to just rip off the bandaid. “is there a reason you don’t like me, or…?” you spoke. “what?” he asked. “i don’t know nick just tells me how sweet you are and all so i just get the feeling you don’t like me” he soaked in my words.

“i don’t not like you, it’s just hard” he paused “ you know, meeting new people, it’s hard to- i don’t know” he sighed, running a hand down his face. “sorry” he muttered.

“hey no it’s okay” i said reassuringly. “i didn’t mean to come at you like that. i guess i was just upset.” he smiled at me softly. “you’re cool, y/n and i would like to be your friend.” “yeah of course” i said semi-cheerfully. we went back to the couch and continued the movie.

-

after that day me and matt became much closer. we talked more often and we found out we actually had a lot in common. we both liked to read and write. we had the same music taste, and we disliked the same people.

one night, me and the triplets sat out by my pool and just talked. hours passed as we changed subjects, talking about life, friends, dreams, and anything you could imagine. “ok ladies i’m going to bed.” nick announced.

shortly after, chris got up too. “i actually have somewhere to be, so see you never” neither of us questioned where he might be going at three in the morning, and we continued our conversation.

“hey i’m hungry, wanna hit up ihop?” matt asked. “i’m so glad you said something because i’m starving.” we got in matt’s car and made the drive towards the restaurant. the whole way there was a blast. we blared music through the speakers and laughed about whatever.

we sat in the empty ihop for about an hour, laughing at the dumbest things before we decided the employees were tired of us. we went out to matt’s car and talked for another hour and a half in the ihop parking lot. we eventually got tired and drove back to mine.

we went up to my room, walking quietly past where nick was sleeping in the living room. “wow chris has been gone for a while” i pointed out. “yeah” matt sighed. we talked some more, the time now almost 6 in the morning. i looked at my phone then i looked over at matt who was passed out in my bed. i didn’t bother to move him so i just closed my eyes and went to bed.

at about 7 in the morning i woke up to feel matt’s arms snaked around my waist. i felt a strong sense of comfort like this, but his breathing on my neck made me slightly nervous.

without knowing i fell back asleep, and woke up at around 9, matt’s arms still around me. this time something was a little strange. i adjusted my position slightly, making me feel matt’s hard on. fuck. i sighed trying to go back to sleep and ignore it, but i could tell matt started to wake up.

“you okay matt?” i muttered, half asleep. he groaned and started to grind his hips into my ass, turning me on a little. “fuck y/n please” he whined. “please what?” i teased.

“m’ so hard” he whined “i need you” he placed his hands on my hips and grinded into me harder. “fuckkk feels so good” he whined. even tho i could probably get off to the sounds he was making alone, i decided to do something more.

i turned over, and pulled away, making him whine at the loss of contact. he looked at me with desperate eyes. “do you trust me?” i asked. “mhmm” he nodded frantically.

i threw one leg over him to where i was sitting on his lap. i pulled down his pants and boxers, just enough to release his dick. i took it in my hand and gave it a good squeeze, making him moan. i pumped it up and down a few times.

i then stood up and discarded of the clothes on my bottom half. i sat back down to the position i was in before. i rubbed him up and down my folds. he whined desperately under me. “let me fuck you” he pleaded.

“okay” i said, turning over as we switched positions. he was now on top as i lied under him. he placed sloppy kisses on my collar bone and chest.

he reached down and his thumb came in contact with my clit. he rubbed to slowly in circles. i moaned and threw my head back into the bed. he hit the sweet spot, making me squirm. when he noticed my actions, he rubbed that spot repeatedly til i came.

“fuck so pretty” he sighed, removing my shirt and bra. “ i wanna see all of you when i’m fucking you” he smirked.

without warning, he started to push into me. he gave me time to adjust before ramming into me forcefuly “fuck mattt, someone’s needy” i joked. he didn’t reply and just continued fucking into me.

he got so deep at one point that you can see it poking my stomach. “fuck matt just like that” i yelled, disregarding everyone sleeping downstairs. i gripped his back with my nails, slightly drawing blood.

“fuckkk- feels s-so good. i can feel you clenching pretty girl” he groaned “taking me so well.” i could hear his words forever. he looked down seeing my fucked out expression. “you doing okay baby?” i tried to come up words to answer his question. “mhmmm” is all i could say. he smiled at me and tucked a loose hair behind my hair.

he thrusted a few more times before i reached my orgasm. i breathed heavily, and raked my nails dow on his back, leaving bloody scratches all the way down. “cumming matt f-fuck” i managed to say as i came.

his orgasm wasn’t far behind. his thrusts started to become more sloppy. he whined and his face twisted as he came inside of me. he pulled out, the both of us breathing heavy. “good morning” he smiled. i rolled my eyes and laughed. “sorry bout your back”

•••••••••••••••••••••••••

a/n- the end sucks but i liked the majority of it😍

[jeannineee]

coming up lavender, part three

cassian x reader x azriel

part one part two

author’s note: part three!!! comment to be added to taglist <3

summary: reader tries to hone her abilities. cassian is down bad. azriel is too, but he acts like azriel.

warnings: suggestiveness!! this is an 18+ series.

“I can’t do it.”

Scowl, rise to your feet. Glare at Rhysand, picture of indifference, if not a little amused.

“You’ve been trying for all of thirty minutes. You’ll have to work at it.”

Cross your arms over your chest, avoid his gaze as you make your way across the room to pour a glass of water. "My power isn't summoned on command. It surfaces when I feel any strong emotion. I learned that a long time ago."

Rhys sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. "I think you're wrong. I think you're scared--"

Your whirl on him, seething. "I am not scared."

He holds his hands up, body tense as his violet eyes dart between your face and your hands. You follow his eyes, face heating as you notice your fists, encased in swirls of purple energy.

Sigh and murmur an apology as you force your power away. "I didn't mean--"

"I know."

"I just--I know my power. I don't think it will work the way you want it to."

Rhys nods. "We'll try again tomorrow."

Offer him a grateful smile, toy with your thumbs as you gather what little courage remains within you. "Can I--will I be able to leave the House soon?"

Rhys pauses in the doorway. "You haven't made much progress. It's been almost three weeks."

"I know that," you reply, picking nervously at your nails. "I just--I need out."

He ponders, remaining still for so long you almost consider relenting.

"I'll permit you to explore the city."

Your heart leaps out of your chest. "Thank you--"

"But you will need an escort. Myself or my inner circle. Whoever is available any time you want to leave."

Bite the inside of your cheek. "I'm not dangerous, Rhysand."

"You are. More than you know. But I'm not requiring you to have an escort solely because of that."

"Then why?"

"If our enemies knew of your power, they would stop at nothing to take it."

Take you, is the part he didn't say aloud.

"I don't understand."

"My inner circle are having dinner at my townhouse tomorrow night. We'll explain everything to you then," Rhys pauses, as if having a silent conversation with himself--no, with someone else. "For now, enjoy Velaris. My home is yours."

~~~

"You're my escort?"

Cassian sports a shit-eating grin as he approaches you. "Sure am. Who better to show you around?"

Close your eyes and sigh. "Fine." You step forward, place your hand on his bicep. Try not to notice how large it is. When you don't notice a change in the environment, your eyes open again, to be met with a confused Cassian.

"I'm more than happy to let you touch me, but I am curious as to why...?"

Groan and drop your hand. "Aren't we supposed to winnow?"

"Winnow?" Cassian barks a laugh. "No. I can't winnow. We're flying."

"We're what?"

"You heard me, sweetheart."

Glance down to the city. The very far away city. A couple thousand feet below. "I don't like heights."

"That's tough," Cassian says from behind you. "But it's flying, or climbing down ten thousand steps."

Loose a shaky breath. "You better not drop me."

A wide grin. "Didn't you feel my arm? I could bench press you for hours and not get tired."

Your cheeks flush. "Let's just get on with it. We don't have all day."

A chuckle from Cassian, and he places one arm behind your knees, the other behind your back, lifting you with ease. "Bossy. I like it."

He doesn't give you the dignity of a response before launching into the air. You bury your face in his chest on instinct, noting the way the wind whistles in your ears. The air is chill enough that you find yourself grateful for his warmth, trying ever-so-subtly to lean into his touch.

"Cold?" Cassian questions, grip tightening a bit.

So much for subtle.

"Just a little."

"You should look."

"Absolutely not."

Cassian scoffs. "I won't drop you. You're safe. Just look."

You slowly, very slowly turn your head, audibly gasping as you take in the view around you. Snow-capped mountains in the distance, a winding river leading into the sea, surrounded by countless ships and houses and people. So many people. "Oh, wow."

"I know," Cassian's breath fans against your ear, and you turn, only to find him staring at you, rather than the view.

Clear your throat as your face burns, remnants of that strange ache in your chest returning as you ask, "You've lived here your whole life--in Velaris?"

"Mostly. I've spent plenty of time in Illyria, though."

"I've heard it's brutal."

Cassian nods. "Not so different from your Court of Nightmares."

You study each other for a moment; some sort of unspoken understanding passing between you, before forcing your attention back to the scenic view; stomach dropping a bit as Cassian begins descending.

~~~

“That’s the best food I’ve had in a while,” you tell Cassian as you sit back in your chair, so full you’re fairly certain your stomach will burst.

Cassian hums and nods; speaking over a mouthful of food. “Told you so. Nothing like it.”

You sigh, tilt your head back. Grateful for the outdoor table; the sun in your face, warming your skin. Grateful for the salt-kissed air filling your lungs. Grateful for things you never thought you’d have.

“Doing alright?”

Cassian’s voice startles you from your thoughts, and you sit up, smiling sheepishly. “Yeah. Just contemplating.”

He arches a brow, silently urging you to continue.

“I never had…anything like this, back…” you swallow thickly, words caught in your throat, “…back home, if you can call it that. This is all new to me.” Fold your hands in your lap and pick at your nails; avert your eyes. "Nature, people, community...”

The silence stretches long enough that you begin to wonder if you've said too much.

"I slept outside, the first several years of my childhood. Not even in a tent. Outside. On the ground."

You meet his eyes, feeling a pull so strong you lose your breath. "I--I'm so sorry."

Cassian smiles halfheartedly, and continues, "I didn't know true kindness until I met Rhys. He was an ass, but the first real friend I had. My point is--I understand, how everything feels foreign."

“Like I don’t belong,” you mutter quietly.

“That will go away too, with time,” he says, before rising from his chair and holding a hand out to you. “If you’re ready, we can head back to the House.”

Slowly take his calloused hand, ignoring the flutter in your chest as you do so. “Lead the way.”

~~~

“Careful,” Cassian murmurs gently as he helps you settle after landing back at the House of Wind. “Didn’t realize you were so clumsy.”

Roll your eyes. “We’ve been walking around all day. My feet are bound to hurt.”

Cassian grins. “I’d be more than happy to carry you.”

You laugh, unamused as you turn on your heel. “Unnecessary, but thank—”

You trip over your own foot and curse, prepared to eat the floor, but Cassian grabs you, settling you upright. You lock eyes, face burning with embarrassment.

Cassian arches a brow. “You were saying…?”

“I was saying…” breath catches as you realize his hands are still on your waist, but you make no move to stop him. “I was saying that carrying me is unnecessary, though i’m sure you’d jump at the opportunity to show off—”

This time, you’re cut off by his lips pressing against yours. You tense at first in shock, but melt into him as though you’d kissed him a thousand times before. Stifle a whimper as his tongue dances with yours, still tasting of wine.

You aren’t sure how much time has passed when Cassian pulls away. His eyes search yours, almost worried. “Are you okay? I probably should have asked first—I didn’t think—”

You smile. “I’m fine. More than.”

~~~

That night, you lie in bed, staring at the ceiling, unable to cease your racing thoughts. Those of your powers, of the consequences of leaving the Hewn City. But the main concern that won’t leave you:

Who are the Night Court’s enemies, and why were you relevant to them?

See a shadow out of the corner of your eye, and scoff as you sit up. It swirls around the foot of your bed; observing.

“Tell your master he doesn’t need to spy on me. No evil plots coming from me.”

The shadow remains. In your head, you hear a question: Are you alright?

“I’m fine. Get out of my head.”

The shadow leaves your room, though you still have the feeling of being watched. Surprisingly, it gives you some level of comfort. But as you near the brink of sleep, you can’t rid yourself of the impending doom; the sense that the worst is yet to come.

taglist: @cleverzonkwombatsludge @marina468 @cherry-cin @sevikas-whore @tequilya @nickishadow139 @thatacotargirl @skylarkalchemist @lilah-asteria @acourtofbatboydreams @esposadomd @aelincaddel @sharknutz @pruvii

[witchkami]

Goodbye for a while ♡

I need to take a break for a long time. I'll explain why, but I'd like to start by saying I'm going to be pausing my Patreon's billing, which means none of my patrons will be charged any money in the time that I'm gone. Since I won't be posting art, that only seems fair to all of you.

I don't normally open up about my personal life, however this is one of those rare cases where not only do I feel I owe it to you, but I'd also like to give an explanation. Back in March of this year the most terrifying thing I've ever experienced happened to me, and I was hospitalized for a week and a half. I hope it's understandable that I don't quite feel comfortable sharing what it was, but what's important is that I am currently okay and safe.

When I got out of the hospital, I started working as soon as I could. I've always been the type of person who could still be productive and work despite any hardships I've been through, but even though the drive to create art was there, I found this time was different. It was difficult to put myself together and draw. Everything started becoming an uphill battle. Every month I would try to push myself to draw as much as I could, but I would continue to feel disappointed because of my own expectations for myself. I realized that my mental health wasn't where I wanted it to be, and it was going to take a long time to heal.

Five months later, and although I'm doing a lot better, there are still broken pieces I'm trying to put back together. Which is why I'm making the decision that I need to take a long break to focus entirely on my mental health. This is not a decision I came to easily, I really didn't want to step away for a while. I kept wanting to believe that if I just kept pushing myself then one day it would all feel normal again, but that's not how these things work. And so as sad as it makes me, I truly do think taking time off is the best thing for me right now.

I don't know how long I'll be gone. It'll probably be multiple months. I want to give myself however much time I need to feel better, and I hope you understand. I wish to come back stronger than I've been this year, and stronger than I am now. I look forward to when I will eventually return and be able to share art with you again. I make art to comfort myself, and it means the world to me that someone could feel that way about the things I draw too. Truly, thank you so much, for everything. Although this is goodbye for now, I can't wait for when I'll return.

Much love, -Kami

TL;DR I'm going to be taking a mental health break for a couple of months. I'll be pausing billing on my Patreon so no one will be charged anything during the time that I'm gone.

[seospicybin]

DON'T THEY KNOW IT'S THE END OF THE WORLD?

PART I

Lee know x reader. (s,a)

Chapters: Part II

Synopsis: Making a contact with an ancient object, you meet a demon who takes form of the man you desired and forces you to commit terrible acts to stop the world from ending. (14k words)

Author's note: I indulge myself with a spooky fic and demon Minho in it. Read with cautions and enjoy x

Based on an episode of Black Mirror. Content warnings: Violence, gore, mentions of abuse, assaults and graphic imagery. Reader's discretion is advised!

"Carving is easy. You just go down to the skin and stop." - Michelangelo

-

Oh, no! You're doing it again.

When you think you're talking in your head, you're actually talking loud enough for everyone in the room to hear. It's even worse that your voice is echoing in the big chamber of the empty gallery.

They seem to not care about it or pretend to because Kim has just walked in to check everyone's work. She's your friend from art school turns an art dealer and she has a way to control everyone around her.

"I told you to let us do it for you," she says, clicking her tongue at you and crossing her arms in front of her chest.

The gallery is having some of your pieces of art displayed for the exhibition tonight and you want to make sure that they're presented the way you envisioned it.

You carefully step down the ladder and stand next to Kim, looking at the sculpture you made of a man holding an arrow with an apple stuck at the end of the arrow.

You hear Kim dreamily sigh then look at you, "You're going to sell..." She pauses to emphasize the word she's going to say next, "Big!"

Money isn't the reason why you create these sculptures but you need it in order to keep being able to do this. You have no idea how expensive a block of stone is!

The reason why you made these sculptures is because this is what you love doing: envision your imagination onto a block of stone and you carve it to bring it to life.

Why did you choose stone as the medium? Because they're durable, stubborn yet resilient. It takes time to create one sculpture but once you've seen the result, you forget about the hard work behind it.

Kim puts her hand on your shoulder and snaps you out of your reverie, "Stop worrying about your sculptures," she says.

She turns you around to force you to face her and puts her other hand on your shoulder, "Go home. Get dressed. Put some color on those cheeks. Have a pre-party with a glass of wine or two."

Dressing up sounds like a lot of work, you'd rather stay in your dungarees and striped top, "Can I just wear these?"

It's like she has just heard someone dies, Kim's hand flies to her temple and screws her eyes shut for a second, "Trust me when I say that the people coming tonight wouldn't expect the artist behind these magnificent sculptures to look like Chucky," she says with a sneering smile.

She squeezes your shoulder and tilts her head to the side, "And that's me putting it the nicest way possible because you're my friend."

It's still a mystery how you ended up friends with someone like Kim, she's the opposite of what you are, an extrovert, a tolerable narcissist, she likes attention and is forthright to the point it's borderline insolent. You're so used to her audacious way of treating you and the blunt words that come out of her red-lipped mouth.

She's been like this even before you met her and you are the friend who likes to suffer in silence, you think that's why you became friends. Nevertheless, Kim treats you better than she treats anyone else for that matter.

That explains why the gallery staff are so afraid of her. It's always best to get out of her way unless she wants you to be there. You pick up your bag from the floor along with your jacket.

"I'll go then," you meekly say.

She grabs your elbow before leaving, "Go home," she says with a glare.

"Home. Not your studio," she says again, making it clear to you.

She knows you well enough to know that you like spending your days in your studio instead of your apartment. You sling the strap of your bag on one shoulder, "Go home. Get dressed. Come to the exhibition late," you repeat the things she wanted you to do.

Kim smiles and gently cups your cheek, "Good girl. Now go!"

Once you get home though, you spend hours just sitting in the emptiness that lingers in your apartment that is too big for one person to live in it.

This is why you prefer to stay in your studio, you like to keep your head occupied rather than being alone with your thoughts like this.

And your thoughts, they're mostly of unkind things and...

Your phone rings from inside your bag and steers your mind back to your head. Without having to look at it, you can tell who it is. There are no other people who call you daily except, well, if it's an emergency call.

"Are you getting ready yet?" Kim goes straight to the point.

"Uh... yeah, I just showered, I—" you jolt awake from lying down on the sofa.

"I'm having problems picking what to wear," you add a laugh in the hope of sounding convincing.

There's a wave of laughter from her end of the phone call before Kim talks to the phone, "Stop joking. Do you like it?"

You get completely confused because she suddenly compliments herself out of the blue, "Huh? What?"

You can hear her dramatic, low sigh and you can imagine her subtle eye roll as she's doing it, "The dress. The one I hung in your closet," she tells you.

You quietly trudge your way to the closet and open it to find the said dress.

"Yes, it's beautiful!" You hurriedly say, not wanting to let her get suspicious as she waits for a response.

"Aren't you lucky to have me as your friend?" she exclaims, sounding so confident with her words.

"I am the luckiest," you tell her as you observe the dress and already regretting hastily approving the dress as you notice it has a plunging neckline.

"I know," she brags and her smirk flashes through your head.

In the background, you hear something is calling her and Kim answers with a shout, "I'm coming."

She dramatically sighs before talking to you, "Work is calling. I'll see you tonight, okay?"

"Yeah, sure, see you tonight!" You're more than relieved to end the phone call with her.

It's too early to celebrate as she hasn't ended the call yet and she always ends the call first. You have an inkling that she'll call your name.

Indeed, she is.

"Hey, don't forget to take your meds, okay?" She says.

That's probably the only yet the most endearing thing she does to you and what makes her your friend.

"Yeah, don't worry about it," you tell her.

It's time to fully assess the dress and you're in awe of how much skin you'll show if you're wearing this. Of course, you have the option not to wear but it all comes down to wearing the dress or facing Kim's wrath.

The former seems to be the safer choice and also because you're not a confrontational person, you like to avoid conflict.

Not wearing the dress means you're going straight into conflict and you don't want that.

With a defeated spirit, you put the dress on even though you have no idea how to move in such a tight dress. You summon up your below-average make-up skill for tonight and put some colors on you.

Not forgetting Kim's words, you take your medicine and wash it down with a long gulp of water. You give yourself a few minutes as you wait for the medicine to work while you sit on the couch holding a glass of water in both hands, staring out at the view from your apartment.

Kim insisted you take this apartment when you're okay with living in the studio. Not only that it's too expensive of a place to live on your own but a big place only makes you inexplicably lonely.

However, after seeing the view from up here, you feel like you're not part of this world in the most humbling way. Seeing the city and the buildings look like pieces of block makes you realize that they don't matter that much. They're all just... material things.

You sigh as you get hit by a wave of melancholia and you take it that the medicine is working.

-

Uncomfortable walking out of your apartment in your dress, you put on a coat as you leave the apartment with the sounds of your heels clicking against the floor.

The owner of the building passed away yesterday, there are so many guests visiting the penthouse where he lived. The first elevator that arrives on your floor is crowded so you skip on getting on that one. You patiently wait for the next one to arrive while clutching your purse in front of you.

A minute later, the other elevator arrives and the doors slide open, you see there's someone else inside. You believe he's been from the penthouse from how he dressed in all black.

You look down to avoid eye contact and step inside, standing at the back of the limited space while trying not to look at the man's face on the reflection from the mirror that walled the elevator.

Arrived in the main lobby, the elevator dings open and the man doesn't waste time but walks out with hands shoved inside his coat pocket.

You fix your coat before stepping out and you feel your feet kicking on something, it's clattering across the floor. You bend down to pick it up, something that you guess is a pocket watch.

Your first thought is that it belongs to the man and you look around to see if he's still around to give it to him, but he's nowhere. It's as if he's gone with the wind.

"Miss, your driver has been waiting outside!" The concierge informs you from behind his desk the second he sees you.

"Yes. I'm coming!" You hurriedly shove the pocket watch inside your purse.

As Kim instructed, you come late to the exhibition and it's already filled with people dressed so impeccably for the occasion. You take a deep breath before entering the scene that is the least you wanted to be.

You take your coat off and hand it to the girl handling the coat check, along with your purse. You feel naked even though you're not, but it's not just the dress, being in the crowd is not your forte.

The first thing to do in a situation like this is to find Kim. You avoid making contact with everyone you're walking past as you look for her in the crowd. It's not hard to spot her when she's always the center of attention anywhere she is.

"There she is!" She gasps the moment she sees you're coming her way.

She puts away her champagne flute and walks up to you, embracing you like the trophy you are, "My rising star!"

Kim puts her hand on the small of your back and smiles brightly while discreetly judging your look.

"Isn't she amazing?" She brags you off to the group of people she's talking to.

You can only sheepishly smile next to her and avoid everyone's eyes.

"She is the artist behind those magnificent sculptures," she adds with that saccharine smile of hers.

They're starting to throw praises at you and you can hear all of them talking at once, making you more uncomfortable staying in there.

You take a step back but Kim's hand does not allow you to escape, she glances at you and takes the cue.

"Excuse us," Kim says to everyone, "Enjoy the exhibition!"

Kim steers you away and pulls you aside, before you can comment on her choice of dress, she snatches the chance from you.

"You could've picked nicker shoes," she whispers through her gritted teeth at you.

You automatically look down to see your heeled shoes which you think match the dress you're wearing.

"I–I think it's—"

She cuts through your words, not giving you a chance to explain. She grabs you by the elbow, "We have no time to change it," she says, then steers you somewhere.

As Kim continues to brag you around like you're the art piece instead of the artist, you start to get that feeling that she's using you.

As a matter of fact, she used you to propel her career as an art dealer. Ever since you agreed to let her sell your art for you, her career took off.

You're more than happy to be of help but she does everything extra and she's been taking you to meet a lot of people that their faces started to blur and it's getting overwhelming that you need to get out of it.

"I'll just—" You barely finish your sentence when you walk away and find somewhere to gain some composure.

You keep walking until you find the restroom and push yourself inside, lock yourself in one of the stalls just sit on the toilet, and just breathe.

You hear the ruckus outside the stall and someone probably needs to use the toilet, you reluctantly get up to start heading outside.

The plan to leave unnoticed comes to a failure when Kim is already there right outside the restroom, "Where have you been?"

You take a deep breath to calm yourself and try to explain, "Kim, I don't think I can do this anymore. I—"

Then again, she never let you finish your sentence, "One more. I need you to meet your new potential buyer."

You grip the side of your dress and you feel like tearing it apart, "No, Kim. You know how I do with people, I don't— I just want to go home," you desperately tell her just to let you go when you're an adult and can do whatever you want.

Kim lets out an exaggerated huff and sends her fringe flying off her forehead, crossing her arms in front of her and you know what's coming for you.

"You think I'm doing this for me?" She asks.

Actually, yes. The initial plan is to sell your art but in the end, she makes it all about her.

"I'm doing it for you!" She says, turning it all on to you. She always finds a way to turn it all on to you, making you feel guilty and defeated.

Talking back to her means that you're saying yes to war and you don't want to fight a losing fight. You fist the fabric of your dress trying to suppress the anger brewing inside you.

"Just one more person," you meekly say.

Her face softens at the sign that you're once again giving her the power, "That's right. Just one more and I'll let you go."

You finally let go of your dress and you wipe your sweaty palm down the back of your dress as she guides you back to the gallery.

"All you have to do is stand next to me, smiling and explaining your art to people," Kim instructed like that wasn't what you've been doing all night.

Except that she forgot that you need to fake all of that.

Kim takes you to one of your sculpture displays and three people in suits have been waiting, talking with drinks in their hands.

"Hello, gentlemen," Kim says with an extra polite voice that makes you shudder at how fake she sounded.

"Heard you're looking for the amazing artist behind these beautiful sculptures?" She continues, presenting you like you're the one who's about to get sold, not the sculpture.

One of the three seems to be the one in charge with a stance that oozes confidence and power, a smirk that only someone who grew up with a silver spoon stuck to his mouth can master. He looks years older than you but his face shows no fine lines but that's just because he never had to frown in his life.

"I adore your art so much," he praises with a teeth-baring smile.

Kim turns at you and introduces him, "This is Nicholas de Ville from the de Ville family."

The way she enunciated his last name only means that this person holds importance and she expects you to impress him.

He holds his hand out next with an expensive, shining wristwatch decorated his wrist, "I'm Nicholas de Ville. You can call me Nick."

He may seem nice and polite because all privileged people learn manners but they only apply that lesson in real life occasionally.

You take his hand or else Kim will force you to do it. You shake his hand for a while and accidentally meet his gaze as you try to take your hand back.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Mr. de Ville!" You say as politely as you can.

"Nick, please!" He insists with a smile.

"And the pleasure is all mine." He adds with a smile that says so many things and they send a chill down your spine.

Kim lets go of her hand and lightly touches you on your arm, "Mr. de Ville wants to know more about your sculptures so..." she quietly pushes you his way.

Nick courteously laughs and says, "Would you be kind enough to give me the tour?"

You consider it for a moment but seeing Kim's glare, you know you have no option.

"Yes, sure, I would love to," you answer with a strained smile.

"Great! Please, lead the way!" Nick says.

When you think the other two are coming with you, it's just you and Nick, walking through your sculptures and you explain each one without trying to bore him like Kim has taught you a few times.

"... it's inspired by the Greek mythology. The apple in the arrow means that when it comes to love, we know no rules, we follow our desires—"

Nick is too busy looking at you instead of looking at the sculpture you're tirelessly explaining to him. Guessing that he isn't interested, you stop talking altogether.

"I'm sorry if I'm rambling," you sheepishly say to him and keep looking at the sculpture.

"No, no, that's okay," Nick says with a smile and takes a stand close to you, also looking at the sculpture.

"Your art is as beautiful as you," he says.

You're getting uncomfortable at how close he is with his elbow brushing yours. You nervously swallow air and lowly mutter, "Thank you."

Nick takes it the wrong way. He takes it that you're replying to his flirtation when you thought he was earnestly complimenting you, he starts to place his hand on your shoulder.

You reflexively shrug his hand away but that only sends his hand down to your back where he can touch your exposed skin. As his fingers make contact with your skin, you take a step back until his hand drops.

"I'm sorry," you regret apologizing for something that you didn't do wrong.

He looks at you as if he didn't just do something wrong or touch you without your consent. You feel repulsed by yourself and take another step back, "I'm sorry, I just need to—"

You keep walking away, away and never looking back.

-

The musty smell and dust that hang in the air welcome you to the studio.

You take your dress off the first thing you do when you get there and put on any clothes you can find in the dresser, a black T-shirt and worn-out jeans.

You put your earrings inside your purse and the pocket watch you collected earlier spills out of it, falling onto the couch.

You're intrigued to see inside the locket to get a hint on who the owner is, you're trying so hard to open it with the strength you have but it won't budge.

Exhausted from trying to open the antique-looking object, you give up and walk over to the sculpture you're working on. You put the pocket watch down on the table next to your carving tools, then pick up a chisel and a hammer.

For every hit of the hammer, you feel like unleashing something that makes you feel lighter and lighter and makes you hit the chisel harder and harder.

You eventually get exhausted and take a step back, leaning against the table while looking at the unshapen block of stone in front of you.

You grope around for a bottle of water and take a sip, putting it down as you wipe your mouth after. Your fingers nudge something as you place your hand on the table, it's the pocket watch blinking under the fluorescent light.

It seems to be calling for you, inviting you to try and uncover the mystery inside.

Looking at the small chisel next to it, you decide to give it another try by prying it open with the chisel. You slip the sharp end in the crack and use your strength to push it open only for the chisel to slide to the slide, cutting the side of your finger.

You drop the pocket watch as blood drops from the wound onto the table. It's not the first time you injured yourself, you know what to do. You go to the bathroom, wash your finger under the running water then grab your first aid kit from the drawer.

After tending to your small injury, you decide to not continue working when you're angry. You take another sip of water and lie down on the couch.

With the quiet that hangs in the room, you slowly drift into sleep.

-

SEVEN DAYS TO THE END OF THE WORLD.

The darkness greets you even though you have opened your eyes.

Pretty sure you kept one of the lights on when you went to sleep but it's all dark now in the room, you can't see anything but lights that shine through the cracks of the blinds.

You slowly get up from the couch to turn the light on, carefully walking to where the switch is, and once you flip it, lights flood the room.

The first thing you see is the pocket watch that is now open, you walk over to the table and pick it up to see inside that it's just a normal watch but it doesn't have numbers on it like all watches have.

You close it and see that your blood tainted the lid, this time, you can easily open it without a hassle.

"Hello!" A voice says.

Surprised to hear a voice coming from it, you drop it back onto the table. A moment later, you laugh it off, thinking that you misheard it considering that you just woke up from sleep.

With hesitancy, you pick the pocket watch again and look at it. Your thumb wipes the glass cover of the watch.

"Hi, Hello, I'm Minho. I'm a demon. You anointed this talisman with your blood so now we're bound together and—"

It speaks again and in response, you hurl it across the room until it hits the wall and drops onto the floor. You stand there, frozen on your feet, and wonder...

"Look, I've got a whole introductory speech here," the voice says again, coming from the part of the room where the pocket watch is.

For protection, you stand behind the open bathroom door and look at the pocket watch talking like a lunatic you are.

"We got to work together," it says.

You whimper hearing the voice again and you know that it's real, you're not making this up.

"Can you pick me up? Just pick me up. Come on, pick me up! Please?" It demands.

You take cautious steps to get to where the pocket watch lies on the floor.

"That's it, come on. Come on. I won't bite, I promise. Come on," it says as if it could see that you're coming to pick it up.

You swallow air and slowly bend down to pick it up from the floor, holding the pocket watch in your hand.

"As I was saying, you anointed the talisman and the rules are you've got to carry out three human sacrifices over the next seven days or else the world is going to end," it speaks again.

That's a lot of information to take in, not to mention that you're already having a hard time wrapping your head around the fact that the pocket watch is talking to you.

"W-what?" You breathlessly say.

"If you want me to help you, you need to permit me entry."

Entry? That sounds like a bad idea. You just stand there and look at the pocket watch.

"Do you permit me entry? Yes or no?" It asks.

You shake your head and convince yourself that maybe it is not real.

"You have to say yes. Just say the word yes."

This is not real, you tell yourself out loud.

"Or let's do this, if you say yes, I'll... I'll stop, okay? I'll go away. You'll never hear from me again like this didn't happen." It persuades.

This is not real, this is not real, you chant in your head.

"Just say yes. Say it! Say it. Say it. Say it," it chants louder and it starts to fill your head, endlessly echoing.

You want it to stop so you impulsively say, "Yes."

The chants stop and the light flickers off, filling the room with darkness again. You whimper in fear as the pocket watch starts ticking in your hand.

You hear something deeply breathing a few feet from behind you. Curious, you spin around on your feet to see what it is, but you can't see it as it's lurking in the dark

However, you feel good about not being able to see it as fear creeping up inside you. You walk backward until you hit the wall behind you.

"Hey, come on, what's the matter?" The thing says as he takes a step forward, revealing his form to you.

The first thing you can make out the shape of that thing is two long horns on his head and two red eyes.

"All right. I lied about going away," he says in a deep, growling voice.

"My regular appearance is a bit too much for this realm."

He takes a step back and disappears in the dark. After a while, he takes another step to the front and has already taken a different shape. He looks normal now, as in looking like a human and not just any human, he looks like...

"I peered into your soul and apparently, this is a physical look you find appealing so..." he says with his arms spread out and a proud grin on his face.

"I don't know. Let me have a look!" He walks over to the mirror hung on the wall next to you.

He looks just like the sculpture you made, he has a sharp nose, chiseled jaws, and a hair color as intense as red roses go. You feel a mix of fear, awe, and confusion inside and it's getting overwhelming.

He leans close to the mirror and fixes his hair, "Wow!"

He seems impressed by how he looks, "Okay, isn't it what you want?" He turns to you.

Not getting an answer from you, he smiles, then says, "Uh... I mean, I can work with this."

You can only whimper with your mouth parted open, having a hard time wrapping your head around this situation. If it's happening or not, is he real or not, did you take your meds or not?

"You have to calm down so we can talk. Just talk to me!" Minho says, noticing that you're in a state of panic.

For a split second, you see his eyes flash like those belonging to feline creatures, gleaming like two marbles in the dark. You can feel cold sweat on your back as you slump down against the wall until you're sitting down on the floor.

He squats down in front of you and reaches for your head but you're quick to dodge away from it.

"You know, we have got to work together," he assures you.

It's not fair that he has a face that came from your imagination, it gives you a sense of familiarity that lures you to give in. However, you're not sure if you should be giving in to him.

You bang the back of your head to the wall, close your eyes, and repeatedly chant like it's a mantra, "You're not real. You're not real. You're not real."

But that is not enough to expel him. You open your eyes and still find him there. hand and a grin.

"Like I said, we have got to work together," he tells you again.

To give you the space to gather your thoughts, he walks around the studio while talking, "You marked the talisman. I don't make the rules."

With the lights turning back on, your eyes can easily follow his figure going around the room and looking at the sculpture you're working on.

His fingers slowly graze the rough surface of the carved stone and then he turns his head at you.

"Basically, we need to deliver three human sacrifices by next Friday or else it's..." he informs you again as if you haven't heard him the first time, "burning skies time."

You can feel anxiety rising inside you and your throat is closing up, making it harder for you to breathe.

"I sense you need convincing. Uh..." Minho walks up to you again and offers his hands to you.

You look at his hands for a moment before letting him help you to get up from the floor. You imagine your hands reaching for fragments of your imagination but instead of that, you feel his warm skin and firm grip as he hoists you up until you're standing on your feet.

If he's not real then how can you hold him?

He looks at you for a second to make sure you're okay then nods, "Let me show you how this will play out, alright? What will happen if we don't succeed," he says.

He walks to stand behind you and puts a hand in front of your eyes, "You ready?" He asks, his hot breath fans your neck as he speaks.

You're not sure what he's asking you to get ready for. You're not even sure if you're living the reality right now.

"Ready?" He asks again and once again his breath tickles your ear.

"3, 2, 1!"

As if you're being transported to another time and place, you open your eyes to see fire. It's the studio but it is on fire.

"This is what we're dealing with!" Minho says but you can't see him anywhere.

Fire is everywhere and you can feel the heat of it burning your skin and thick smoke filling your lungs that you start coughing, retching for air.

"Scorching wall of flame. It's agonizing death for all and so on," he continues.

You're flailing around to get air, walking to the window to open it only to find it hot to touch and you see that the whole city burns with you. You hear people screaming and sirens blaring everywhere but anywhere you look, it's just blazing fire.

You get away from the window until your back hits the table behind you and snaps you back to reality. Your head turns to the side and see Minho there, leaning against the table next to you.

"See, burning people they smell like... a burnt slice of meat on a griddle. It's better if you dissociate from it," he coyly says.

The images are so vivid that you feel the need to escape it, run away from here and so you do. You make a run to the door and he's already standing there next to it.

"If we're being honest, I don't want the apocalypse to come about any more than you do," he says.

You turn the knob and open it, running through the hall that leads to the exit door. Yet Minho is already there too.

"So let's stop it happening, you and me, mmh?" He says to you.

"All we have to do is deliver three sacrifices in seven days," he pops at the end of the hall.

You yank the door open and find him standing outside the door.

"It's only three killings," he says with a malicious laugh.

You rush to climb down the steps trying to escape what you know is like trying to get out of your head, it's inescapable.

"Animals don't count. You have to do humans," Minho informs at the base of the stairs.

You hurriedly unlock the iron gate and pull it open, running into the street in the middle of the night but of course, he's already there too.

"We can do like one kill a day but I'm good with one kill in two days and—"

You decide to go the other way from where Minho is standing and just aimlessly walking to avoid him. You know the neighborhood but not as good as when it's at night.

You walk down the stairs that lead to the riverbank, feeling more afraid of Minho instead of being mugged at night.

"That is fewer people than die falling off ladders in the same time period," Minho magically appears on the stairs, leaning against the railing.

"You'd be less lethal than a ladder," he adds with a sly smirk.

Your eyes are watery either from the cold wind or the anxiety taking over you. You sniffle before talking to him, "If I talk to you, you're real so I'm not going—"

You walk away before you can finish your sentence and walk along the riverbank, hugging yourself.

"Well, we started conversing already so that ship has sailed."

You can't believe that he's still following you when he knows exactly why you are trying to get away.

"No, it hasn't," you persist when you know he's right.

"Oh, oh yes it has," he talks back with a mocking tone.

You stop on your track and grunt in frustration, bending down to pick whatever is close to you.

Minho stops walking as well and says, "Don't worry. We're a team. I'm on your side, you know?"

He takes a step forward and keeps talking, ignoring that he's the reason why you're so frustrated.

"Let's just get kill number one under your belt, mmh?" He says in a softer tone.

You turn at him, your finger pointing right at his sharp nose and sternly tell him, "You can stop it because I am not killing anyone!"

You take a deep breath to calm yourself down and try to face him again, "You're not real so I don't why you keep talking to me," you snarl.

Minho coyly smiles at you and calmly responds, "That's what I'm here for. Moral support!"

He takes even a closer step to you and lowers his voice, "So, just hold on to that rock and hit someone with it!"

You get confused by what he said, "What rock?"

He eyes your hand on your side, "The one in your hand, love!" He answers.

You don't even realize you've been holding it until he pointed it out. The moment you know, you can feel its weight in your hand.

You gasp in surprise and glare at Minho, "I'm not doing what you say."

You hear footsteps coming from under the bridge and turn around to see a middle-aged man, "Are you alright, Miss?"

But Minho sees it as an opportunity, he stands and looms behind you, whispering evil things into your head.

"Mmmh... yeah," he hums in victory.

"He's perfect. No witnesses. Talk about beginner's luck," he whispers to you so close that it feels like he's living inside your head.

You feel his hand resting on your shoulder as he further persuades you, "Just one quick pop to the head and you're done."

For a second, you wanted to do what he said just so he could stop bothering you. However, the conscience in you is talking you out of it.

You walk toward the man and try to seek help from him, "Please, make him stop!" You say, gesturing to Minho who's standing right next to you.

The man looks confused by what you said and asks, "Make who stop?"

Disoriented by what's real or not, you keep looking back at Minho, then at the man, getting pushed to where you hit your limit.

The man walks up to you, feeling more concerned for you that he asks again, "Is everything alright?"

The relentless demon he is, Minho stands close next to you and whispers, "Would it help if I told you I can see into this man's soul and he absolutely deserves to die?"

This time you know it's his way to get what he wants, to get you to do the deed. You look away and hastily shout, "Shut up!"

Yet Minho keeps talking about the man as he's giving you a stare, one that you're way too familiar with, and convinces you that he thinks you're crazy.

"He has a wife and a daughter, you want to know what he does to them?" Minho's words hold intense hatred in them like you can feel the bitterness of it on your tongue.

You look at him to see if he's just tricking you to kill the man, "Don't trust me? Well, get a load of this!"

Minho covers your eyes with his hand again and this time, images of the man abusing his wife and daughter over and over again that you can't bear to watch anymore.

He snaps you back to reality again and says, "You'll save them both from years of pain, shame, and guilt."

Fueled by the rage from what you've seen through Minho's vision, you launch yourself at the man and hit him hard on the head, sending him tumbling to the side and into the river.

You stand there watching his body sinking into the water until the air stops bubbling to the surface of water and that's when you're certain that he's dead.

The man is dead.

Despite the shock, you manage to walk away while still carrying the rock in your hand, and once you realize you've been holding to it long enough. You throw it into the river then break into a run back to the studio.

You vomit everything into the toilet bowl once you're back in the studio, retching nothing but saliva and air.

Minho is standing at the doorway of the bathroom as he says, "It takes some used to but a couple more of that and I'll be out of your hair," he says.

You flush the toilet and sit on the bathroom floor, looking at him with teary eyes and the shock that hasn't left your body yet.

He pulls out the pocket watch and shows you that the Roman number written inside has gone one line, "See? One line has gone which means one sacrifice registered. Two to go."

You get up from the floor and drag yourself to the couch, feeling so drained by whatever has driven you to do unimaginable things, one that you thought you'd never done in your life.

-

Morning has passed but you can't find the energy to live for the day.

You're lying down on the couch watching the sky turn brighter with every hour passed. It hasn't sunk in yet what you did last night. It feels like a dream but at the same time, you can still feel the weight of the rock in your hand.

Minho has been quiet but you know he's lurking in the room and he decides to interfere by standing in front of you.

He tips his head to the side and asks, "How long are you going to stay like this?"

He then sits on the other end of the couch and says, "Well, you have to, at least, do whatever it is you do as a sculptor. You can't have people getting suspicious."

How come he takes it lightly? How did he get so calm after telling you to kill a man and watch you doing it?

"Fucking shut up!" You shout at him.

Talking to him makes everything unbearably real and it makes you recollect what happened last night. The guilt, the disgust you feel for yourself, the blood on your hands, you can see everything now under the daylight.

"I killed a man," you croak, saying it hurts that tears start to crawl out of you.

"I've killed someone," you meekly say with a tear rolling down from the corner of your eyes.

"Yeah, but that was hours ago," Minho nonchalantly says.

"I keep feeling the crack of his skull on the rock," you pause to sniffle and turn to look at Minho, "I did that."

But he wouldn't get what you feel because he's not a human in the first place. Minho is a demon.

"It's your fault. You're not even—" You stop talking because it's no use to talk to an entity that knows no compassion.

You brush your hair to the back and deeply sigh. Turning your head at Minho again to ask, "Why is this happening to me?"

You use the heel of your hand to press on your eye to stop crying, "I'm not a bad person."

"No, no, no," Minho quickly denies.

He moves to stand behind the couch and leans close to you, "It wouldn't work if you were. It has to be someone corruptible," he explains.

Your forehead wrinkles and forms a questioning look on your face, trying to make sense of what he said.

"If you think about it, what's happening here, it reflects really well on your character," he says with a smile.

What he said only assures you that you are a bad person. What you did is the reflection of what you truly are, a bad person.

You nod and wipe your wet cheek with the back of your hand. You get up to sit on the couch and grab your purse, rummaging inside to pull out your phone.

"What are you doing?" Minho asks with a panicked voice.

You dial the police line on your phone and show it to him, "Calling the police."

He jolts on his feet and sits next to you on the couch as you hit the call button.

"But why?" He asks.

You can hear the dialing tone ringing so close to your ear, "So they'll arrest me," you simply answer.

Minho nervously chuckles, "Then you won't be able to do the other sacrifices," he reminds you to rethink your choices.

"Good!" You shortly respond, trying to stay in your right mind this time.

"Then the Apocalypse will happen and billions will die. I know, I know, I get it. You don't want blood on your hand but if it saves billions..." He's babbling, desperately trying to stop you from turning yourself in.

The way he puts it that way, he makes you choose the lesser between the two evils. 

"Hello, police department, may I help you?" The operator speaks on the phone.

Kill three people who deserve it or save billions of innocent people?

You find yourself hanging up the call and putting your phone away, once again failing to do the right thing.

"See? You're a good person!" Minho says as he exhales in relief.

To be honest, you don't know what's good or bad, right or wrong anymore. It's one big blur to you.

You feel frustrated once again, you feel like a failure but on the bigger picture, you're trying to stop the world from ending.

But can you really save everyone?

-

You can't wait to dwell on everything in the comfort of your apartment. Before you can do all that, you need to set boundaries with him. You face him and look him right in the eyes, "I have six days to kill two more so please, give me a break for now."

Minho gets quiet for a moment before nodding in agreement, "That's fair."

Feeling the need to wash yourself from whatever it is clinging to your body, you get a shower and take your meds to help you decompress while sitting on the end of your bed in your bathrobe.

"I don't know why you take those pills," Minho says as he enters your room.

You quietly sigh at him and say, "Can you at least give me a few minutes until it's working?"

"Want to wash it down with wine?" He offers, showing the bottle of red in his hand.

You shake your head, "I can't drink alcohol after taking antidepressants," you answer, not sure why bother answering him.

"That sucks!" He says and puts the wine bottle down on top of your dresser, "I was thinking we could celebrate our first kill."

You feel a little faint at the mention of the word kill and celebrate being put in one sentence. You climb onto the bed and pull your duvet, "I need to rest."

Minho appears at the end of your bed, looking down at you with his dark, wide eyes, "That's right. We have a lot to do tomorrow."

"Can you turn the lights out for me?"

"Certainly."

The room turns dark but you get a newfound comfort in it.

"Goodnight," Minho's voice caresses your ears like a spring breeze.

You don't want to get used to this but you feel inexplicably at ease that there's someone else with you in this vast emptiness.

"Goodnight, Minho."

-

SIX DAYS TO THE END OF THE WORLD

You jolt awake to the sounds of your phone ringing on your bedside table and you know who it is without having to look at the contact name. Your fingers are tapping the phone screen as you squint your eyes to make sure you hit the accept call button.

"Yeah?" You ask as you put the phone on the side of your face while you're lying on your side with your eyes closed.

"You're still sleeping?" Kim asks, noticing the sleep in your voice.

"Mm-mmh," you hum in answer.

"You know what time it is?"

"I don't know. Nine or ten?" You wildly guess by how badly you want to go back to sleep.

You hear her sighing from the other line of the call, "It's almost 2 in the afternoon," she says.

You force your eyes to open to check the time yourself and see that it is indeed two in the afternoon.

"Oh?" You innocently gasp.

Realizing that may piss her off, you hurried to shift the conversation elsewhere, "Yeah, uh... why are you calling again?"

You fear that she's going to be mad about you abruptly leaving the exhibition or worse if she knew about Nick. You hold your breath, anticipating her answer.

"Oh, yes, I have good news," she says with a smile that you can feel from your end of the line.

"You sold four sculptures, darling!" She squeals.

That's exciting news but you don't have it in you to participate in that excitement, yet you feel relieved you can properly breathe at ease.

"That's... That's great!" You meekly say while raking your hair to the back with your fingers.

"I've been calling you since yesterday, you know that?"

"Oh? I, uhm..." You take a moment to think of an answer.

Summoned a demon? Found out that you have seven days to the end of the world? Killed someone to stop it?

"I needed—"

"Never mind!" She rudely cuts you off, "Guessing from how tired you sounded, you must be going straight back to work, huh?"

The sculpture is still a chunk of unshapen stone but yeah, you worked on it just a bit. Well, a work is a work.

"Yeah, I-I did," you sputter your answer yet thankful that all of her guesses are off the mark.

"I'll come with the paperwork tomorrow. For now, you can rest now or work some more, knock yourself out," she says, couldn't care less about what you're doing now that you've made money and she got to feed on a few percent of it.

"Thanks, Kim!" You say, because it's better to always be on her good side.

"Oh, come on! We both working hard," she kindly refuses but you know she feels entitled to this.

"Let's have a dinner to celebrate," she suggests.

"Yeah, yeah," you half-heartedly answer.

"Talk to you later, okay?"

"Okay."

"Bye!"

You don't even bother to say it back knowing that she'll hang up right after she said her bye. Since you've woken up already, you sit up on the bed and pull your knees up, hugging your feet as you gather your thoughts.

In your peripheral vision, you see a flash of red from the doorway of your room. You turn to look and see Minho standing with the side of his body leaning against the doorframe.

The all-black outfit he's wearing makes his honey skin glow and his hair look like a blazing fire under the sunlight. He smiles once he notices your eyes are on him.

"Morning, sunshine!" He sweetly greets you with a smile that is a little unsettling but a whole lot attractive.

He crosses his arms in front of him, exposing the veins coiling his forearms, "Oh, wait, it's way past noon," he says with a grin.

Looking at him only reminds you of the responsibility you're carrying on your shoulders: saving billions of people from being incinerated.

"Are you always like this or...?" Minho asks, breaking the silence that hung in the room as you think of the dire situation you're in.

Minho approaches you and stands at the end of the bed, "You can't stay in all day. We only have five and a half days left," he reminds you of the time-sensitive quest you're in.

The only way to save those billions is by killing three people. That's the only thing on the pro list, there are just too many cons, mainly on the killing part. The only good thing that comes out of it so far is that you only need to do two more killings.

God! What have you become?

"What should I do?" You hopelessly ask him even though it's a bad idea to ask a demon such a question.

"Just carry on as usual so the people around you don't get spooked," he answers.

It's you and him, him and you, there's no one else you can seek help from.

Minho is right. You can't just sit here and watch the day goes by or else the thing you've done would come to a waste.

You slowly scoot over to sit on the edge of the bed and rub the sleep of your eyes, not ready to face the day when you know you only have six days left to stop the end of the world.

"And while we're going on about the day we can decide who to kill next," Minho adds.

The devilish grin looks beautiful on his sculpted face but everything he says sending a chill down your spine.

-

"Oh, an old lady!" Minho exclaims as an elderly lady enters the elevator.

You silently watch as he scoots closer to her and smells her head, "She smells like... oh! She's sweet."

You silently groan in the corner watching what he's doing.

He places his hand on the lady's shoulder and says, "She can't stop thinking about the end though. She can't wait for it to come."

He looks at you with that wild grin plastered on his face, "You'd be doing her a favor."

You lightly shake your head at him to make him stop playing around the poor lady but he doesn't get the clues.

"She dreams of death. Even now—"

"Shut up!" You say through your gritted teeth.

The old lady turns to look at you, "What is it, my dear?"

You quickly put on a smile for her, "Oh, nothing," you politely say.

Minho walks up to stand next to you again and whispers in your ear, "Just do it. No one will miss her."

"Shut up!" You whisper back while throwing daggers with your eyes at him.

"She's nearly dead already!"

Thankfully, the elevator dings open and shoots his idea down as you step out of the elevator.

"We need to start to pick someone!" He persists as he follows you walking in the lobby.

Minho is such a nuisance.

It's hard to ignore him when he keeps talking, making remarks about everyone he sees, and constantly around you the whole time.

It's when you're working on your sculpture that you get to immerse yourself in your work and disassociate from reality.

All you hear is the slamming sound of your hammer on the chisel and pieces of stone falling onto the floor. Looking down at the mess you made, you spot one particular piece of stone lying close to your feet. You stare at it for too long you get the recollection of that night.

The weight of the rock in your hand, how you bashed someone's head with it, and the splashing sound of the man falling into the water, all of that vividly playing in the back of your head.

You stagger backward and drop your chisel onto the floor, the clattering sound echoing in the spacious studio.

"I've been meaning to tell you this," Minho appears from behind the sculpture, startling you.

"We should order food," he suggests.

You put away your hammer and take off your mask, walking to the mini fridge to get a bottle of water.

"You're a demon. You feed on..." You think for a moment to finish your sentence as you unscrew the cap of the bottle.

He snatches the flyer stuck to the fridge door and asks, "Pizza?"

You close the fridge and walk over to the couch, plopping yourself down before chugging some water into your system.

"You need to eat so you can—"

"Kill?" You finish his sentence.

Minho scrunches his nose and sits on the armrest of the couch next to you, "I was about to say think but yeah, that too," he says.

You untie your pinafore and throw it aside, he isn't wrong to say that you need to eat. What's the point of saving the world if you're going to die of starvation?

You let out a sigh and grab the flyer from his hand, typing the numbers on your phone screen.

"Cheese pizza, please? With a lot of pepperoni!"

How can you believe that he's a demon when his choice of pizza topping is like a toddler's?

-

"Good evening, Miss!" The concierge greets you as he sees you enter the door.

"Hi," you greet back, impatiently wanting to get back to your apartment to dwell on your fate again.

"Miss Kim came by and dropped something for you," he informs, taking out a big envelope from your mailing box.

There's a faint sound coming from the small TV tuned to a news broadcast when you come to the desk to collect it.

"Here it is, Miss," he slides the big brown envelope across the shiny surface of the desk. There's a note on top of it which you immediately recognize as Kim's.

You open to do a quick check on what's inside when you hear a glimpse of the news from the TV.

"...man found dead in the river has been identified as Ben Watson, a financial officer of a bank company, leaving a wife and a seven-year-old daughter who has been notified about his tragic death..."

You glance at the small screen and see the photograph of the man you killed that night. You can't possibly be wrong about this when you remember the horror on his face as you lifted the rock before swinging it hard to his head.

"Is there anything wrong, Miss?" The concierge asks.

You snap yourself out of your daze and put the envelope close to your chest as if someone about to steal it from you.

"No, no," your voice is quivering in panic at the sight of the man you killed.

"Thank you," you abruptly the conversation with gratitude and walking fast to the elevator.

The warm water doesn't work to calm you down when you're tainted inside. You feel filthy, inside and out. You feel sick seeing your reflection in the mirror.

You've been holding your medicine in your hand but you need something stronger, you ditch the pill and run to the kitchen.

You pull out the wine you have in the kitchen cabinet and drink it straight from the bottle, chugging it like it's water. You gasp when you stop drinking, taking the bottle with you as you sit on the sofa while you're still in your bathrobe.

"This is how you're going to end the day?" Minho asks, taking the bottle of wine from you to take a sip.

"Can you stop talking about killing for just—" You choke on air as anger bubbles up inside you.

Minho holds his hands up in defeat and leans back on the sofa next to you, "I'm just saying..." he meekly says.

The silence only resides for a minute until he speaks again, "Look, the earlier you get it done—" he stops talking when you shoot him a glare.

You take the bottle of wine from him and take a long gulp, a drop of wine escapes the corner of your mouth, dripping down your chin.

You aggressively wipe it with the sleeve of your bathrobe and recline on the sofa, looking out at the city lights that look like pinpricks in the dark of the night.

"I'm crazy..." you sadly remark.

Those words remind you of a sobering fact that what people think of you: crazy.

Ever since you were still an art student, people often found you talking to yourself in class, always in your little world with your imaginary friend. That leads you to this solitary life because normal people avoid crazy.

"People are right about me. I'm crazy," you state again, and saying it out loud makes your heart aches.

Minho turns his head and looks at you with his dark eyes that weirdly provide you warmth, "You're not crazy."

But why would a normal person kill a person because a demon told him to? You don't even know if he's real and not a product of your imagination.

"I'm a murderer..." you say with a heavy sigh and an even heavier heart.

He scoots closer until he sits close next to you, his shoulder bumps with yours on the big sofa that could fit five people. He looks at you and gently says, "Yeah, but not a crazy one."

Minho has a way of looking at bad things positively. You chuckle at the irony of his words. You can't tell if you should be happy that you're not crazy or sad that you're indeed a murderer.

He slumps down on the sofa to be on the same level as you, also turning his head to look at the view, "Want to know something?"

Instead of answering, you take a sip of the wine. You know he'll keep talking even if you refuse him.

"This is actually my first assignment," he shares.

He drops his hand on the space on the sofa, merely inches away from yours, "It's more of an initiation, sort of earning my wings."

You look at him and get a little taken aback by the proximity you can see yourself in his eyes. You almost forget what you were trying to say to him, "What are you trying to say?"

You look away because he looks exactly like the one you envisioned on your sculpture, divinely beautiful that it's hard to comprehend.

"I'm saying that I'm new to this too," he answers.

Again, you can't tell if you should be happy or sad to know that. Strangely though, you find comfort in his words.

You look at his hand splayed so close to yours and it evokes the curiosity in you that needs to be fed. You gently flip over his hand and gently slip your fingers on the spaces between his fingers, you can feel the warmth and the roughness of his finger pads on each finger.

Minho is real, he's real, you perpetually assure yourself.

You glance at him and he's looking at you, your eyes meet in a tender gaze.

"Are you real, Minho?"

You're aware of how much that question weighs. If the answer is no, you know the insurmountable pain you brought onto yourself.

He slowly blinks and you can see his dark lashes fanning out so beautifully. His crimson-red lips open and says, "I'm as real as you want me to be."

Words aren't enough to convince you. With the despair filling your heart, you lean in and innocently put your lips on his. It's a kiss that feels more than just a physical act, one that you didn't know you needed.

After getting the reassurance that you need, you pull away. However, the hand lingering on your jaw tells otherwise. He touches your face with just his fingertips yet it's enough to send a tingle inside.

Slowly, he leans in to kiss your closed eyelids ever so softly and before you know it, he brings your face closer to place a tender kiss on your lips. 

And for the first time in your life, you feel the warmth no one has ever given you.

-

FIVE DAYS TO THE END OF THE WORLD

"You wake up early!" Minho says as you dress up to get ready for the day.

You ignore his words, continue collecting your things around the room, and put them into your bag.

"Are you trying to match your clothes with me?" He says, looking at your all-black outfit while sitting on the headrest of the sofa.

This morning, you woke up on the sofa still in your bathrobe and a blanket covered your body. The first thing you remember is you kissed him last night and somehow, it convinces you to keep going with the quest.

However, you still feel conflicted with what you do. You need to make sure of one thing.

"How about this handsome fucker?" Minho asks, pointing to the other person riding the elevator with you.

The man looks indeed handsome, he dressed so impeccably when it's only ten in the morning. He catches you looking and smiles at you.

You politely smile back and look away only to face Minho who's standing on the other corner of the elevator.

"He'll be losing his hair at the age of 32 and spends the next 29 years taking it out on his wife," he whispers even though no one can hear him but you.

The taxi ride to the hospital only takes fifteen minutes and you know where to go right away from the array of flower arrangements outside the separate building from the main hospital.

"Please tell me you're not doing what I'm thinking?" Minho asks in a concerned voice.

You wish to be able to shut him up for a few minutes until you can find what you're looking for. The hall is packed with people in black attire to what you can safely assume are the guests of the mourning family on the two funeral services being held by two different families.

You read the sign that leads to the Watson family yet pretend to be the one visiting the other family. Before you can sneak into their funeral service, you see someone taking the daughter outside.

"This is a bad idea!" Minho panickly says.

It's kind of alarming to hear because it's the first time he sounded genuinely concerned. You follow where the little girl is being taken and turns out, she's being taken to the park outside, probably to avoid her feeling overwhelmed.

"You're not a relative. People will get suspicious of you!" Minho nervously whispers.

You come over to the two men chatting and kindly ask for a cigarette even though you don't smoke. You stand at the other side of the door and take a drag of the smoke to be seen convincing.

"I know you're worried..." Minho sighs.

He stands next to you with his head hovering close to your ear. He takes a breath before talking, "She's not in mourning. She's not not mourning," he says as you both quietly watch the girl sitting on the bench and drinking a juice box.

"Happy that it's finished but sad that he's dead. But it has finished!" He emphasizes the last word.

You take another drag and accidentally do it excessively, sending you into a coughing fit.

"You spared her another five years of it. A lifetime of therapy," Minho explains, "a lifetime!"

You look at him to see if he meant what he said. He's a demon after all, the vision he forced you to see could be misleading, a trick to make you do what he says.

He looks back at you and smiles, "She's a mom at 29. A nan at 57," he shares.

See? He knows how to comfort you even though you don't ask for it. You give up on pretending to smoke and stab the cigarette butts onto the big ashtray. You shove your hands into the pocket of your jacket and start walking away to the parking lot.

"Why are you telling me this?" You curiously ask.

He nonchalantly shrugs as he walks next to you, "I just thought you'd like to know."

-

"Did you see that?" Minho shouts as he leisurely watches TV with his feet up on the couch.

You pretend not to hear him and continue sculpting, hitting the hammer harder, louder to drown out his voice. As if he read your mind, he appears behind you and places both of his hands on your shoulders.

"You should see this!" He insists, steering your body and making you watch the TV.

It's a broadcast of night news about climate change and he magically changes the channel to show news about nuclear testing.

"It's manifesting. Do you understand?"

Minho keeps switching the channel to show you every bad there is happening in the world, everything that shows the sign that the world is close to ending.

You lightly shrug him off and say, "We got this kind of news a few years ago but—"

Minho holds you by the shoulders and shakes you awake, "This is real. We don't have much time and you're the only one who can stop it!" He reminds you of the harsh truth.

Somehow that only makes you question why you have to be the one to bear such responsibility. Billions of people on earth and they chose you?

"I'm not ready yet. I'm—"

"Don't you want to see that little girl live her peaceful future?" Minho asks.

This is where you know he's being the demon he is, using your weakness to his advantage and making you give in to the temptation.

It's not so much a temptation when you have no other options, it's killing or being engulfed in flames on Friday. You muster up your courage and think of something to do.

The first killing was what Minho said it was: a beginner's luck, the man happened to be there and an abusive bastard, even in his grave, he shall not rest in peace.

This time, you plan to do it meticulously and without mistakes. You walk to the kitchen and pull open the drawer, taking out a knife you occasionally use to cut your sandwiches.

Minho shakes his head in disapproval of your choice of weapon, "You're not a knife person," he concludes.

You look at him, demanding an explanation behind that haste conclusion.

"It's messy. You could hurt yourself," he explains.

That sounds right. You put the knife back into the drawer and look around the studio to find potential killing weapons.

Minho leans into your side and whispers, "Let's choose something that is more you!"

You look at him and see that he's eyeing the table full of your sculpting tools.

You pick up the medium chisel and show it to him to seek his approval. You meet another disapproval as he strongly shakes his head.

"It's too specific. They'll know it's you. You're the only sculptor living in the area," he gives you an insight into how the devil's mind works.

You must admit that he just saved you from making a mistake. You pick another weapon that you're familiar with but also gives you the upper hand to do the killing. You pick up the hammer and turn around to show him.

A smile rises on his face as he nods in approval, "That's you! You're a basher!"

You bring the hammer close and observe it, it feels good around your hand since it's a tool that you work with most of your life.

"You've had the practice now. It'll be easier this time," Minho says with a sinister smile.

You want to believe his words so much but the nerves get to you. Your breathing becomes erratic once you realize what you're going to do with the hammer.

Minho puts his hand on the small of your back and holds you steady, "Liquor courage! That's what you need! Booze!" He suggests.

"I don't keep any alcohol in the studio," you meekly say.

Considering that sculpting involves a lot of sharp objects, it's wise to not keep anything that would dull your focus.

"Also, I just took an antidepressant an hour ago," you inform him.

"Oh, shit!" He curses and leans his body to the back, against the table.

Minho crosses his arms in front of him, then rubs his chin as he thinks of something. He then leers at you with a smirk dancing on his face, "Well, do you want a drink?"

-

There's a bar a few blocks away from your studio.

You got here in need of liquid courage and there's plenty of them here. You plan to only consume enough alcohol just to calm the nerves but not too much to lose your focus.

It gets you anxious to step into a new environment. You decide to go straight to order drinks.

"Whiskey, please?" You say to the bartender with a handlebar mustache.

Bartenders tend to remember the faces they have seen and yours must not have registered into his memory bank. He puts away the cloth he's holding.

"You want ice with it?" He asks.

"I'll have it dry," you answer since you came here for the alcohol, not for refreshment.

"Easy, love. We have work to do," Minho reminds as he props a hand against the countertop.

Knowing that one drink wouldn't be enough and you don't want to bother the bartender again for a drink, you decide to double.

"Make that two, please!" You hurriedly say before the bartender starts making your order.

"You don't have to get one for me," Minho grins at you.

The bartender takes another glass with him to finally fill them with your choice of potion.

"I didn't," you whisper back at him.

You immediately pay for it and bring your drinks with you to the empty spot in the corner of the bar, hidden behind the pool table.

You slowly sip your drink and feel it running through your system, stripping a layer of senses off of you, making you less aware of your surroundings.

"Okay, you see anyone tasty?" Minho asks as he sits next to you.

He cranes his neck looking for the next human sacrifice among the people who are enjoying their concoctions. His finger points to the guy with a beanie and drinking a pint of beer.

"Oh, that one perfect!" He exclaims.

He stacks his hands on top of the table and leans forward as he further speaks, "Burglaries. Mostly target the elderly. What do you reckon?" He turns to you for opinions.

The alcohol is not quite there yet so you take a longer sip. You feel the alcohol burns your throat and you wince from the bitter aftertaste.

"No?" He asks as he looks at you.

You know he's asking about the human sacrifice, not the alcohol but the answer is the same, "No."

Minho moves on. His eyes are pacing around the room to study people and check their backgrounds with his evil power.

He taps your shoulder as he finds his next candidate, "See that girl with the pints?"

You can easily spot the girl with curly hair, carrying two pints of beer in her hands.

Minho leans in close to your ear to give his intel, "She went on holiday when she was 12 years old and saw her sister drown in a swimming pool."

He suddenly lowers his voice as he tells you the rest of the story, "She could have pulled her out but she just stood there and watched."

Maybe it's true that people are the scariest.

They may look ordinary and good and all yet inside, lies this darkness that they buried deep inside them. If Minho hadn't told you, you would have taken her as a pretty girl with a nice smile and nothing more.

Minho pulls at the sleeve of your shirt and points to another guy, talking to his friend by the pool table. You're about to wave him off again until the guy turns his head and you know who it is.

"How about him? He likes to secretly film girls by drug them and once he—"

"Sent a girl into overdose," you finish his sentence.

Everyone knows who Tim Shaw other than a student in our faculty and more importantly, people know what he likes to do to innocent girls yet no one dares to make him take responsibility for what he did.

Until one night, he drugged a girl and left her on the cold floor of a club, unconscious. There's no evidence that he drugged her or it was he drugged, ended up with him getting dropped off of all charges.

You have one more drink to finish and you gulp it in one go, wanting to use this opportunity to get back for what he did to that poor, innocent girl.

Minho triumphantly smiles, knowing that you have set a target on Tim's head.

"I think we have a contender," he concludes.

-

Tim is exiting the bar and you take it as an advantage.

You don't need to lure him out, you wait a minute before you follow him outside to not seem conspicuous. Once you're outside, you look side to side to see where Tim is going.

"Perfect location. No witnesses," Minho answers as you both find him turning to the back of the bar.

Tim seems to hear your rushed footsteps and turns around to see you. He seems to be taken aback and you doubt that he'll recognize you. Being crazy has its advantages, you're off the asshole's radar.

You nervously laugh as he looks at you. You quickly think of something to say, "Oh, my God! It's really you, Tim!" You say with fake enthusiasm.

"I'm sorry but who..." he gets all defensive.

"I'm—" You don't know how to explain yourself other than 'the insane one from art school'.

"Oh, wait, you're that girl, the sculptor, the... uh," he brakes before he can say the infamous title of yours.

"The freaky one?" You playfully say.

He bursts into laughter and nods, "Hey, don't get me wrong. I like freaky," he says.

Minho points to the carts of empty bottles and gestures for you to use them instead of the hammer inside your bag that weighs your shoulder the longer you're carrying it.

"I was just getting a drink but it doesn't feel good drinking alone," you lie even though that's how you prefer to enjoy your poison.

"Yeah, I bet," he says with a grin that showcases his whitened teeth and malicious intent.

"How about drinking at my place?" He offers.

"Home turf. Even better," Minho comments, appearing behind you.

You don't want to seem desperate to be with Tim because honestly, you're just stalling to find the perfect opportunity to kill him. It's time to put what you learned from Kim into practice.

"I, uhm..." you rub the back of your neck and shyly smile at him, "I don't think that's..."

As you pretend to consider his offer, he's secretly checking you out. His eyes travel up and down your body, you bet he thinks of lewd things even though you're dressed like a bible salesman with the same outfit you wore to the funeral service.

He takes a step forward and smiles at you, "I live not far from here. You can easily crawl back here if you think I'm a bad drinking partner," he seduces.

Tim must have thought you were as gullible as the other. Oh, he has no idea the surprise you have for him!

"If you don't mind, yeah," you say with a low giggle.

"Okay," he says with a triumphant smile.

His house is indeed only two blocks away from the bar and he keeps boasting about how he owns a house from his inheritance and the rising price of property these days.

"Please, come in!" He lets you into his house.

You step on a crumpled beer can as you enter the living room and are horrified at the amount of trash littering the place.

"A few friends and I watched a football match last night," he concisely explains.

He takes off his jacket and hangs it on the coat rack, "How about we drink in my room?"

You uneasily glance at Minho and he nods. You look back at Tim then put on a fake smile for him, "Yes."

He leads the way up the stairs and you follow him, climbing the steps with the hammer getting heavier and heavier inside your bag.

Tim turns around and sees you being hesitant, "There's no need to be shy now," he says with a lopsided grin.

You respond with a smile, keeping your head tilted up, and continue climbing up the stairs.

"Now!" Minho orders.

"Hit him with the hammer now!" He says again so close to your ear.

Your head snaps in his direction and hisses through your gritted teeth, "Shut the fuck up!"

Tim catches you talking and looks over his shoulder, "What's that?"

"Can't wait to see the bedroom!" You lie and add a giggle to sound convincing.

He smirks at you before pushing the door to his bedroom, "Come on in!"

His room is less messy than his living room in which he helplessly tries to make it seem tidy by flattening the pile of his duvet.

"You can sit down here," he says, patting the space next to him on the bed.

"You're not really going to have sex with him, are you?" Minho asks as he quietly watches you from across the bed.

A deadly glare is enough to answer him and he immediately refrains from pressuring you.

"I was just checking," he adds.

It's when you're in his bedroom that you start to fear Tim, not when you know what he is capable of. But at the same time, it fuels your hate fire, it reminds you of the reason why you need to eliminate scum like him.

"You keep your alcohol in your room?" You ask.

It's obvious that he took you here for different intention. He's taking you here for the sole reason that is to ruin your life.

"Oh, yeah, the drinks," he smacks his lips together and awkwardly paces in the room.

He reaches for the portable speaker on top of his dresser and turns it on, "You can wait for the drinks while listening to music," he says.

You nod, "That sounds nice!"

He gets out of his bedroom and heads back downstairs. While he's doing what you believe is spiking your drink with substance, you think of a plan on how you're going to kill him.

First, you take the hammer out of your bag and practice your swing. You get panicked with each second passed and haven't found a way to catch him off guard.

The footsteps on the stairs signal you that he's on his way here. You decide to do the classic way by hiding in the back of the door, planning to strike him from behind.

You see his figure entering the room, carrying two glasses of drinks in his hands, "It's your lucky day because I found a bottle of—"

Without thinking, you swing your hammer hard and hit him right on the side of the head. It's a weak blow and you can see that from how he's staggering backward, still conscious.

There's no turning back now that you have done it. You come charging at him, attacking him while he's still disoriented from the first blow.

He collapses onto the bed and not giving him time to recover, you keep hitting his head with the hammer with blood splattering the bed and wall with every swing of the hammer going onto his head.

You whimper as blood gets on your face and see that Tim is lying cold on the bed, dead. However, you land another blow just to make sure you've done it and leave no room for mistakes.

"You're good, you're good," Minho says from across the room.

That's when you stop and take a step back. It feels like your soul has left your body, you suddenly feel drained and the hammer drops onto the floor.

You look at the mess you made, the bloody mess and dead body, your life that is once far from all of it. Your throat suddenly closes up and you find it hard to breathe.

After a moment, Minho gets to your side to say, "You can't have that lying around," he's eyeing the bloody hammer lying on the floor.

With your mouth gaping for air, you bend down to pick it up and shove it back into your bag.

"Cleans anything you touched," Minho instructed.

You take a handkerchief from inside your jacket and use it to wipe surfaces you probably made contact with even though you're sure there aren't any.

You leave the bedroom after wiping the handle of the door and make a turn to the stairs when you hear the front door creak open.

You peek from the top of the stairs and someone is turning the lights in the kitchen.

"Get out before he sees you," Minho whispers.

It's bad when he needs to whisper like that even though no one can hear or see him, but you. The adrenaline is still pumping and you make the most of it by bracing yourself to make a run down the stairs and to the front door that is only a few meters away.

You take a deep breath before quietly descending the stairs without making any noise. You can feel your heart beating in your ear yet you keep going as the door is only a reach away.

You successfully land on the base of the stairs when your bag accidentally hits a flower pot, sending it breaking into pieces on the floor.

"Tim?" The man calls.

He looks at you with confusion drawn on his face, "Who are you?"

It's too late for you to break into a run as he sees your face and officially makes him an eyewitness. You can't leave an eyewitness, at least, not until you've done all three human sacrifices.

Is it necessary to kill him though?

You can think and consider as much as you want but it all comes down to the one question: kill or end the world?

-

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[its-avalon-08]

why did you leave me (cl16)

part7!

multipart story! prev || next

✦ pairing - charles leclerc x female reader

summary : charles and y/n have always been best friends. but y/n has been in love with him forever. when charles starts dating a new girl, out of respect y/n distances herself. but how much is too much?

Y/N found a quiet spot away from the paddock, tears streaming down her face. She had been holding back for so long, and now everything was crashing down on her. Lando, noticing her distress, followed her and sat down beside her.

“Y/N, what’s going on?” he asked gently, concern evident in his eyes.

Y/N shook her head, trying to wipe away her tears. “It’s nothing, Lando. Just... everything’s a mess.”

Lando placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. “Come on, you can talk to me. What happened back there with Charles? Why are you so upset?”

Y/N sat with Lando, trying to compose herself enough to explain. Her voice wavered as she started, but as the memories flooded back, she spoke more steadily, her emotions pouring out.

“It started when we were kids,” Y/N began, her eyes distant as she recalled the past. “We were just friends back then, but even at that age, I felt something special. I remember the first time I realized it. We were about ten, and Charles had just won his first karting race. He was so happy, and his smile was infectious. I felt this strange warmth in my chest, a kind of joy I couldn’t explain. I think that’s when it all started.”

She paused, taking a shaky breath before continuing. “As we grew older, those feelings only got stronger. When we were teenagers, it became more complicated. I remember one summer, we were sixteen, and we spent almost every day together. We’d go to the beach, have picnics, just talk for hours. I loved every second of it. But then, there was that day we were at the beach, and he was talking about this girl he liked. I smiled and encouraged him, but inside, it felt like my heart was breaking. That’s when I knew I was in love with him, and that it wasn’t just a crush. It was deeper than that.”

Y/N’s voice broke slightly as she recounted her teenage years. “I never said anything, though. I was too scared. What if he didn’t feel the same? I couldn’t risk losing him. So I kept it to myself and tried to be the best friend I could be. I listened to him talk about other girls, gave him advice, and supported him. It hurt, but I thought it was better than losing him completely.”

Lando listened intently, his heart aching for his friend. “That must have been so hard for you, Y/N.”

“It was,” she admitted. “But I managed. Then we became adults, and things got even more complicated. Charles’ career took off, and I was so proud of him. But as he became more famous, more girls came into his life. Each time he introduced me to someone he was dating, it felt like a knife to my heart. But I smiled and supported him because that’s what friends do.”

Y/N wiped a tear away, her voice trembling. “The worst was when he started dating Camille. She was perfect for him. Beautiful, smart, kind. I knew I had to step back. I couldn’t stand to see them together. I started making excuses, avoiding him. I thought maybe if I distanced myself, I could move on. But it didn’t work. Every time I saw him, it hurt even more. I tried dating other people, but no one compared to him. No one made me feel the way he did.”

Y/N let out a bitter laugh. “And what could I even say to him? That I’m hopelessly in love with my best friend who’s in a happy relationship? That I can’t stand to see him with someone else? I couldn’t do that to him. Or to myself.”

She took a deep breath, her hands shaking. “And now, seeing him so angry and hurt because of me… it’s unbearable. I thought I was protecting myself, but I’ve just made everything worse. I’ve lost my best friend, and I’ve hurt him more than I ever wanted to.”

Lando squeezed her hand, his voice gentle. “Y/N, you’ve been carrying this for so long. You need to tell him. He deserves to know how you feel.”

Y/N shook her head, tears streaming down her face. “But what if he doesn’t feel the same way? What if I ruin everything?”

“Maybe you will,” Lando said softly. “But maybe you won’t. Maybe he feels the same way and has been just as scared to tell you. You won’t know until you talk to him. But Y/N I have seen his eyes. The way they glow when he speaks to you. Just talk to him. Please, for his sake and yours.”

Y/N lay against Lando, completely exhausted from the emotional outpouring. Her body trembled with the weight of her revelations and the tears that had flowed freely. Lando, wrapping her protectively in his arms, held her close, offering silent comfort. As she nestled into his embrace, she whispered softly, "Thank you for listening, Lan. I just wish I could make everything right again." Lando's steady heartbeat and warm presence were the only solace she had as she closed her eyes, overwhelmed by the turmoil within.

Charles stood in the shadows, his heart pounding as he absorbed the depth of Y/N's emotions. Every word she had spoken, every confession of love and pain, echoed in his mind. The realization hit him with a force he wasn’t prepared for—he had been blind to her feelings, and now he understood the true cost of his own actions.

He felt a mix of guilt and longing as he watched Y/N’s tear-streaked face, her vulnerability laid bare. The weight of his realization was almost too much to bear. He had to find a way to confront her, to make things right, but the enormity of it all left him paralyzed.

As he took a step back into the darkness, the world around him seemed to blur, leaving only the burning question of how to move forward. The shadows swallowed him, and the silence was deafening, a poignant reminder of the distance now between them.