#every time I think about crab I get hungry can you take my hungry ass to ocean

[guysonroblox]

where do i get therapy on roblox

they tried to steam me like rice or perhaps a crab. and if you're not careful they might steam you too

[paxcallow]

Shoutout to your Raz for being a little cutie patootie anyway can you spare a headcanons about him for the poor *holding out my little orphan lad hat*

hehehe thank you also OH BABY YOU KNOW I CAN! i may have like 3 hours before i have to get a train to georgia but i always have time for RAZ and TALKING about RAZ!

PAX RAZ HEADCANONS GO! NO PARTICULAR ORDER OR THEME.

raz becomes pescetarian after the meat circus. i say pescetarian and not vegetarian because of his toxic relationship with Crab Sandwich. crab sandwich is raz's friend. but raz kind of wants to eat crab sandwich.

^ raz is kind of a freak.

like all things, raz picks up hydrokinesis pretty quickly, but for a while the Hand of Galochio Aquato will not grant him access to water deep enough to swim in. he beats himself up over this somewhat because neither queepie or frazie struggle with the hand like he does and while they're learning to swim, he's standing on the surface of the water like jesus.

actually, i feel like the Hand was always the most physically real to raz than any of the others because of his lack of denial about being a psychic. all the others felt the unnatural fear at a body of water and it grew much more violent and undertowed in the presence of the psychics, but a young razputin aquato heard the name "Hand of Galochio" and took that very literally.

sorry for the sadcanons. bonus augustus headcanon for your trouble. this barrier to water is something raz and dad can bond over, because while augustus can physically get in the water, he is utter ass at swimming and learns it the slowest of anyone in the family. he is so brave but after a lifetime of water curse, being in it feels the most unnatural. you know that clip from golden boy of kintaro(?) drowning all the way across the pool before turning around and very badassly going "So! How do you like my swimming. >:)" that's augustus while raz runs across the water beside him cheering him on.

he got his goggles from true psychic tales magazine, but he uses them now mostly to combat visual overstimulation. it takes him several years to realize that's what he's doing. projecting through a psi portal is very visually intense and that's why raz is convinced for the longest time that those things actually did anything psychic.

a combination of what donatella calls "sibling survival instinct" being surrounded by so many kids his age at camp, needing to blow off steam after just having run away from home, and wanting to make a good impression at his big new job is what explains the difference in raz's rudeness between psychonauts 1 and 2. in psychonauts 3, raz is going to repeatedly say some out of pocket shit to some fellow kids and then feel really guilty because he's a professional now.

i know i've said this before but it bears repeating that raz is a little menace about tickling. he just genuinely likes it and can't imagine that anyone might not. but he's soooooo shy so his primary way of getting tickles himself is being a little shit. that tends to do the trick. he's definitely not extremely obvious about it every single time. everyone totally doesn't know what he's doing.

raz proudly eats food off the floor. raz thinks wasting food is a crime!! he'll eat your leftovers. he'll drink the rest of your soda. he'll eat the other half of your sandwich. empty your unwanted snax into the grumpus that is razputin aquato.

this is sometimes the only way to get him to eat because often he forgets to until his stomach is screaming at him to spare its life. when he is very focused on something for a while, raz's neglect of himself hits him all at once. man im tired- ooh wait im hungry- oh im thirsty too- AH my eyes hurt have i not been blinking- whoa how is it after midnight already- OUCH i have a headache! my feet hurt! etc. he. needs people looking out for him.

raz is going to be a really good dad one day.

raz knows he is cute. intellectually. he uses this to his advantage to subtly manipulate adults into letting things slide or giving him floor bacon. but he has not internalized the fact that he is genuinely a little cutie pie not through his genetics and social engineering skills, but by being a little dorky smush face who is always earnest, borderline transparent, so so so brave, easily embarrassed, wanting to be friends with everyone, being a little baby bean,[i am slowly dragged off the stage with a cane]

[sooibian]

Flambé - I

poster and edits/collage credits to @is-that-baekhyuns-shirt​ ! 

chapter two | moodboard by the lovely @pororodks​

🍜 pairing: kyungsoo x fem!reader ft. baekhyun, mark lee

🍜 description: pull up a chair. take a taste. come join us. life is so endlessly delicious. - ruth reichl

🍜 themes: fluff, crack (ish), slight angst, a lil bit of spice (in the future), rivals to lovers au

🍜 word count: ~ 9.7k

🍜 a/n: writing this makes me feel lonely and hungry and that, my friends, is a deadly concoction of emotions so while i wallow in my misery, i dearly hope you’ll enjoy this creation. i'd love to hear from you <3<br>

🍜 reference notes: yt channels: maangchi, one meal a day, bore.d; netflix shows: midnight diner, street food: asia, chef’s table

🍜 tag list: @changshapatrol​ @j-pping​ @kyungseokie​ @exosmuttytalk​ @his-mochi-cheeks​  @littleflowercrown13​ pls lmk if you’d like to be added/removed from the tag list!

Water bobs in frenetic bubbles in a massive ancient stone pot perched atop a fort of raging wood. Amidst brutal peals of thunder, a gushing stream rises from a nearby hill, obscuring the shrill cries of the sacrificial crab.

Chanting a spell, you lift the enormous crustacean by its pincers and lower it into the growling, pitch black utensil. Blubbering helplessly, it lodges its claws at the rim of the pot in desperation, seeking escape. The sound of your maniacal laughter reverberates through the cave as you thrust it back into the violent undulation with a heavy-handed flick of the bladed-spatula. 

All of a sudden, you’re swept over with a wave of unconsciousness, your skin tingles, and boiling water begins to fill up your lungs. 

You are alone at the bottom of the very same utensil.

“Help!” frantic, you stagger up, gasping for air. But the bladed-spatula wielding crab, now untied and hovering over you, roars jubilantly at your defenseless form.

Maybe the spell didn’t land, you think. 

“Please, Chef!” you whimper as a last ditch attempt. 

In one swift motion, it swooshes down to your eye level. 

Bushy black brows sprout on its forehead, just a little over a pair of big brown circles for eyes. Then comes the nose, followed by a bloody red mouth that snarls at you.

zzzz… 

“Late again?” 

zzzz…

zzzz…

zzzz…

4:00 a.m., your phone blinks.

In a sleep befuddled state, you reach out for the wailing device. ‘Late again?’ Chef’s cold, deep voice sounds in your consciousness as you wipe the droplets of sweat off of your forehead.

Chef. 

Doh Kyungsoo had insisted on the title and you’d boldly refused to call him that. What business does a man working at a Kalguksu stand in Gwangjang Market have, being called Chef. You’d seeked redressal with the higher ups. The owner. 

Your aunt.

“Aegiya, he has something that you don’t.”

“A dick?”

“YAH! A degree in culinary arts.”

“Imo, haven’t you watched Parasite? Anyone can forge documents these days and if so then why is he here? He could very well land a job at Four Seasons like Hyunjin. Think, Imo. Think!” 

“Exactly! With forged documents, he could be anywhere. But he’s here, no?”

“Maybe you’re just easier to manipulate.”

Finally, she said in her no-nonsense, stern voice. "Chef. You’re calling him Chef.”

Every time the egotistical madman opens that darned mouth of his, it makes you want to knock him down with a roundhouse and beat the living daylights out of him. 

But, counting to five, you always resist the temptation. 

Because one day, one glorious day, you’d take over your aunt’s business and the very first item on your agenda would be….well, the obvious. With a glimmer of hope, you flounder out of your comforter, muttering every cuss word you’d learnt…and crafted in the course of working with the devil himself.

.

.

.

“Ah 3000 is a bit too much for cucumbers", he says to the middle aged vendor, flashing a boyish grin. 

The face of sourcing has drastically changed in the last six months since Kyungsoo’s arrival. Prior to his dictatorship, Imo had tie-ups with vendors who’d hand deliver the produce every single day, without fail. Guess Kyungsoo didn’t fully comprehend the benefits of customer loyalty. ‘There could be better quality ingredients out there, Sajangnim…economically priced, I might add’, he’d convinced your aunt using his military corporal voice. No matter if it meant awkward break-ups with the vegetables ahjumma or the prawns ahjussi: you were left to do the dirty work.

And required to tag along for the routine 5 a.m sourcing runs. Every morning, he’d greet you with an accusatory ‘you killed my cat’ expression.

Groaning, you shift your weight from side to side. If only he’d quit flirting with every woman in the market and hurry up! The purchases have long exceeded the capacity of your humble cart. Flailing your numb arms awake, you urge him to speed up with a nudge of the knee but he glares at you like you’d asked him for a kidney. 

Kyungsoo has a tendency to overbuy but never does he help with a single bag. ‘I don’t like to sweat’ is his excuse. Which is pretty ridiculous considering he spends over ten hours a day overseeing a scorching frying pan at the stall. 

But you know better than to argue. 

Because as much as you loathe every fibre of his existence, he terrifies you a little. The man possesses the duality of a psychopath. As fierce as he is in the Market, ruthlessly competitive even, he’s quite the sweet talker. Incredibly charming. And you can bet your life on the fact that every ahjumma - whether or not a rival - would take a bullet for him.

“Ahdeul-ah”, the woman coos at him, making your insides violently contort, “you know how tight the market is these days. But I’ll throw in some more only for you.” 

The additional weight of three kilos on your right arm ends your sourcing run for the day.

***

“Chef”, huffing, you say to him on your way out, “I had a late night last night.”

“And I need to be privy to this little nugget of unwarranted information because?” He paces ahead of you at his usual lightning speed.

“No, I meant, could we stop”, panting you continue, “could we stop for a quick cup of coffee.”

Halting abruptly, he turns around to look you square in the eyes, “No.”

“Asshole!” You murmur under your breath.

“I heard that.”

.

.

.

Monday at Choi Yoonsun’s Kalguksu stall was busier than usual. 

It went by in a daze amidst the cacophony of a sizzling girdle, clanging of pots and pans and Imo’s relentless vocalization inviting guests to the stall. Having served thousands of bowls of Kalguksu and Kimchi Mandu, you rely heavily on muscle memory to get you through a workday’s demands.

Despite its massive chaos and commotion, you quite enjoyed working in the Market. 

Not being particularly skilled at much and having nearly flunked out of high school, cooking was the one thing that defined you. It was your safe harbour. You’d lost your father in an accident at the tender age of ten and your mother was forced to work long hours to put food on the table. So you honed your culinary skills, little by little, because you thought it vital for your own well-being as well as your mother’s. 

One cannot think well, love well, sleep well, if one has not dined well.

At the end of yet another rewarding day, you leave a wet towel soaking in vinegar for Kyungsoo to clean the iron girdle and proceed to tend to the dirty dishes yourself. 

“Yahh!” Imo calls out for Kyungsoo and you, thumping her hand on the table, gesturing for you to join her.

“Ahh! Imo, there’s a huge pile of dirty dishes!” You cry out in response, only to turn around to find that ass-kisser already at the table, schmoozing with your aunt. Hastily taking off your grubby apron, you wash your hands and wipe them clean with a rag cloth. Straightening your black shirt, flattening unruly flyaways, you rush toward the table but she’s already up and ready to leave, “We’ll have dinner together tonight. I want to have a word with both of you.”

“But -”

“Sajangnim”, Kyungsoo interrupts, wagging a finger in your direction, face scrunched up in mock concern, “this one’s had a late night last night -”

“Chef! So I guess I’ll be seeing you tonight. As if seeing you every day of every week wasn’t enough already!” 

An overtly saccharine smile spreads across your face and his jaw hardens in response.

“Aish….you two…I’m leaving now”, shaking her head, she sighs, “see you both in two hours.”

.

.

.

Kimchi jjigae, Pajeon, Tteokbokki, Jajangmyeon, some leftover Bibimbap with sides galore from Hong Lim Banchan Stall. Imo clearly has something important on her mind.

But the vibe at the dinner table just doesn’t sit right with you. 

The reason for that could be the bespectacled black hole of negativity that’s seated besides you in all black clothing but there’s something off about Imo. 

She’s being a little too nice.

Fear gradually starts to settle in your bones. Is she finally closing down? Is this delectable fare an attempt at softening the blow? After all, she’d settled her husband’s debts over five years ago and her sons were doing well for themselves. Quite well, in fact. The elder one, Hyunwoo, is an investment banker and the younger one Hyunjin went to culinary school and is working as a chef at Four Seasons’ Chinese restaurant. It only makes sense for her to trade the Market’s gruelling ways for some much deserved peace and quiet.

“We’re closing down the stall”, she says coolly.

It’s like a punch in the gut.

“Imo -”

“Aegiya”, she rests her chin on her hand, face clouded over with serenity, “the Market’s given me everything. It’s given me a sense of independence…a sense of pride. It put my family back together. I used to think that I’m nothing without my husband and my sons…but the Market gave me an identity. I continued to work even after my husband’s passing not because I needed the money but because this is something that I’ve created and I’m mighty proud of what’s become of it today. My name is a brand in itself. And a decade ago I couldn’t have imagined this even in the wildest of my dreams.”

A million scenarios cascading through your head drown out Imo’s voice.

Would you now have to go back to Bucheon? Or invest in a stall of your own at the traditional Gwangjang that would never accept your big and bold ways with cooking? And to start from scratch? With a new recipe? Kalguksu with a twist, perhaps? But you had no insight into your aunt’s special broth. She’d never let you or even Kyungsoo for that matter whip up the hand-cut noodles. The two of you only ever helped with the ancillary tasks.

You soon come to the realization of not being the only one caught in the eye of the storm. Kyungsoo’s unwavering gaze is scarily fixated on the bowl of jajangmyeon before him. His miserable state gives you a fleeting sense of relief and it’s in that exact moment that he chooses to say something unpalatable.

“Sajangnim, you’ve worked too hard. It’s time for you to reap the fruits of your labour. We’ll be fine, you don’t have to worry about us.”

Of course he’ll be fine. 

Nearly all food stall owners in Gwangjang have been vying for him ever since the day he set foot into Choi Yoonsun’s with his phlegmatic personality. Whereas you had nowhere to go. The world conveniently assumes Imo hired you only because you were her poor sister’s daughter who she sought to help financially. Not because you had what it took to be there and survive.

“Did I say I was ready to retire?” She laughs, eyeing Kyungsoo quizzically. 

“Here’s the thing..I met up with a friend last month. She was looking for a buyer for her little family run restaurant in Gangnam. So I took out a loan, made her an offer”, balling her hands into fists she sighs, “put in the deposit…and the place is pretty much mine now!”

“IMO”, you yell, “you didn’t have to scare me with that long winded speech! God, you’re so dramatic!”

“Well, it is a big move. I’m not sure either of you are ready to take the leap. It requires a tonne of work and I may not be able to pay half of what you earned at the Market for at least two months until we open. It’ll take the restaurant two years or so to break even and only then will I be able to afford scaling your salaries. On the other hand, what I can do is, help you secure a job at the banchan stall since you love seasoned spinach so much and Kyungsoo even stands a chance at managing one of the Pakgane stalls!”

Pakgane is the mung bean pancake stall that had gotten so popular that the owner managed to branch out of Gwangjang. So even your beloved Imo believes that you’d make for a better ���help” and Kyungsoo, a Manager. 

Ugh!

“I’m coming with you”, you say firmly, “I’ve saved up a little and Eomma will gladly pitch in, if need be…”

At this point, you’d expected Kyungsoo to be ready with his luggage considering the little sycophant he is but his expression is stoic, eyes still glued to the jajangmyeon bowl, filling you with insane hope. 

He was going to jump ship…finally!

“Chef…”, you couldn’t resist, “you don’t have to worry about us…I’m more than enough for Imo. You may…”

He shoots you an angry glare making you chew on your unsaid words. But wanting to rile him just a little more, you excuse yourself and bring out a bottle of ketchup. Squeezing it generously atop the stack of pajeon, you snicker maliciously. 

Ketchup. 

The tangy, unassuming condiment is the sole reason Kyungsoo abhors your very existence. But as this dinner marks the end of his torturous regime, you celebrate with ketchup - lots of it - right in front of his nasty eyes.

.

.

.

Steam swirls in different directions and at every twenty metres a contrastive redolence tickles your olfactory senses. Experiencing Gwangjang as a guest is clearly a far richer experience compared to the donkeywork involved in life as a vendor. 

A proper send-off is essential lest Kyungsoo decides to stay, even if it means creating a huge dent in your pocket. You plan on giving him a final tour of the Market where you could both say your goodbyes while receiving a premium fuel of vitamins, minerals and carbs. 

Lots of carbs.

“Let’s start with Pakgane”, says Kyungsoo, with a skewered sausage in one hand.

Wanting to start with nothing less than the best in order to create a lasting impression, you shake your head in response. This was supposed to be a farewell he’d never forget.

With every step, the aroma of scallops drizzled with butter and cheese grows stronger. You start your tour by ordering two portions of the delectable street food which sets you back considerably but you’re far too elated to care, even refusing Kyungsoo’s offer to pay as the woman sets the scallops ablaze with a blow torch.

“Do you know what this technique is called?” Kyungsoo gives a little nod in the direction of the flaming food.

A teachable moment. How does his own personality not wear him off?

You’d made a firm resolve to not let any of his condescension bog you down so with a sweet smile, you reply, “No, Chef. I do not.”

“Flambé, minus the alcohol. Do you know how they manage that?”

The ahjumma calls out for you and you nearly jump to collect the order, the slight upward curl of his lips coming into your peripheral vision.

***

The Market supposedly looks the same as it did fifty years ago and you quite enjoy eating your way through it. The tour makes your heart grapple with nostalgia even though your partner’s vibe is akin to a mug of insipid coffee.

Although you’d spent only a little over a year at Choi Yoonsun’s, the goodbyes were long and hard. Some of the vendors squeeze you and Kyungsoo in heart wrenching hugs, the others give you a little cash to help you through the transition and for some of the food, you pay only with smiles and thank yous.

After a gastronomic fiesta entailing tteokbokki, pajeon (minus the ketchup - you did it Kyungsoo’s way), sashimi, kimbap, different types of banchan, a thousand more teachable moments, the both of you end the day on a sweet note with hotteok. 

The ahjussi wishes you both luck, making you choke back tears. 

Your moist eyes don’t escape Kyungsoo’s attention.

“Are you…. Is the hotteok spicy? No, I mean it’s obviously not…erm”

The dam of your tears explodes. 

You were going to miss this place. Even the less appealing aspects of it. You were going to miss the kimbap unnie who greeted you with a hug everyday, also the snooty mandu ahjumma who could hardly stand the sight of Choi Yoonsun’s crew. You were going to miss washing dishes in the winters with water that was supposed to be ice and the sweltering summers that had you sweating through every layer of clothing. 

Hell, you were even going to miss Kyungsoo.

“No”, you sniffle, “No, no Chef, it’s nothing. Take care of yourself. As much as I’m glad that our fateful working relationship has met its rightful end, I truly, genuinely, wish you luck. And learn to smile a little more, yeah?”

“Are you dying?” Eyes glinting, mouth agape, he chuckles.

“What? NO! What? You’re leaving. What is wrong with you?”

“Who says I’m leaving?”

“You! You’re not coming with us to Gangnam!”

“Says who?”

“Your stupid face that looked like it was hit by a freight train when Imo broke the news last week!”

“I’m not leaving?” He draws his words out in a question.

“This is no time to joke, Chef. You are leaving!”

“Says who!”

“Your stu-”

“Stupid face? I wasn’t planning on leaving at all. I’ve even found myself a place close to the restaurant. Oh yeah, sorry for having misled you. It was really just - my stupid face.”

.

.

.

A month from Grand Opening

It’s not just about food.

Food only makes for a fifth of a restaurant’s success equation. Management and promotional skills are essential because a restaurant is, first and foremost, a business. 

Mark Lee, the young consultant from PCY Associates had imparted this crucial business knowledge to your compact team of three aspiring restaurateurs in exchange for an egg sandwich and watermelon juice. The enthu-cutlet has been overseeing the legal set-up of your humble restaurant for a month now. 

However, according to Mark, the crème de la crème of the success equation is customer service. 

Customer service. 

Here’s where the crusty Chef was supposed to take a backseat and you - a real people person, a socially adept charmer - were to sashay in and shine. 

These ideas were a bit too much for that thick, globular skull of his so you tried to educate him with a practical example. 

He’d added a rule to the first draft of the menu - a shared document for brainstorming purposes. It read ‘No ketchup for you.’ This rule (or insolence as you called it) went against your belief system as the restaurant’s to-be-anointed Manager (a girl can always hope). ‘Never say no to a customer’ being the foundation of customer service, you slashed the rule with a strikethrough. 

But the next time you tried to log in, you found yourself locked out of the document. 

“Chef, why can’t I find the draft menu anymore?”

He’s aggressively julienning leeks, pretending to not have heard you. 

“CHEF!”

“What?” Finally, he looks up. The skin between his eyebrows pinched and his arm raised to level his brand new 1-piece chef’s knife (initials etched into the blade) with his profile.

“Why-why did you lock me out of the draft menu?”, you stammer, gaze trained on the cutting edge glistening with tears of The Leeks.

Kyungsoo’s been visibly getting jittery by the day as opening day approaches.

He deliberately places the knife to the side of the board and you take a gutsy step forward. He uses a cold, serial-killer voice to ask, “What makes you think that I locked you out?”

You lean over from the other side of the granite counter, face barely an inch from his, “Who else could’ve? Imo is technologically challenged.”

“Fine”, he sighs, “I locked you out.” His lips curl up in a menacing smirk, “What are you gonna do about it?”

Grinning, you stare right into his dark eyes and let out a shrill, high-pitched scream, “IMO!”

This throws him back a few steps and he’s rubbing and pulling at his right ear when Imo walks into the kitchen. 

“Yah! Am I your babysitter? Whatever it is, I don’t want to hear about it. I am asking you”, she looks at you before spinning her head in Kyungsoo’s direction, “and you, to sort this amongst yourselves. For once!”

“But-but Imo!”, you protest.

“Aegiya, I really don’t want to ship you back to Bucheon.” 

***

“Here’s your tax ID, liquor license… okay so this was a touch-and-go because the officer is transferring to another Department and the one that’s supposed to be coming in is a real piece of work….” 

Mark Lee is here with the final set of documents. 

Imo’s eyes are gleaming with excitement and sheer joy but she’s held a businesswoman-like composure. On the other hand, Kyungsoo looks very much like himself - like someone’s sucked the life out of him. 

You bring Mark his usual egg sandwich and watermelon juice because there’s only so much your restaurant can offer at this point in time, feeling brutally overwhelmed with the volume of pending tasks until opening.

After practically inhaling his mini-meal, Mark dabs his mouth clean and says, “My work here is done. If you need anything you know where to find me. And good luck. Trust me, you’ll need it.”

Imo looks worriedly at Kyungsoo and then at Mark and at Kyungsoo again which prompts him to ask rather uncomfortably, “What do you mean ‘you’ll need it’?”

Mark’s dramatically long sigh is an indication of a sermon to follow. As he leans back into his chair, Imo and Kyungsoo instinctively cower like an invisible weight has been plopped onto their shoulders. The sight is beyond pathetic: they are like peasants before a feudal lord. It makes you want to smash the know-it-all smirk off of Mark’s face.

What comes after, though, isn’t a sermon but a sentence and a half that leaves the three of you shaken.

“The dining business here in Gangnam is hyper-competitive and most restaurants fold in six months. And if that sandwich is any indication…”

Kyungsoo valiantly advances to rescue your team out of the dark bubble of Mark Lee’s words with, “What’s wrong with the sandwich? She makes a perfectly good sandwich!”

What was supposed to be a compliment somehow sounds very wrong in your head, but before you could give him the death stare he leaps to damage control, “What I mean is, we all ate the very same sandwich for breakfast. I don’t usually dissect food for novices but the egg was perfectly cooked, mayonnaise was just the right amount and the seasoning was balanced, too. So I’m not sure what you’re trying to say. We’re serving perfectly good food here.”

“The thing is, this is something even my mother could make and dude, believe me, she’s terri…her culinary abilities are highly questionable. Also, do you think your friend would’ve sold you this place if it were thriving, Mrs. Choi? She’d inherited it from her grandfather and she sold it to you at a dirt cheap price because she was neck deep in debt. I’m sure you know, real estate here is three and a half times the country’s average. So not only do you have significant funds locked into a possibly deadweight property but also your plan clearly lacks vision. Gwangjang’s Choi Yoonsun can keep you afloat for four…maybe six months but Gangnam’s Choi Yoonsun has to create an identity for herself. Look around you, everyone’s serving good food”, Mark tilts his head in Kyungsoo’s direction, “Here, people eat with their eyes first. Now, I’m not saying family-run restaurants serving traditional cuisines don’t do well. A lot of them have been passed down for generations. What I’m saying is…..find your USP.” 

Mark squints, looks into the distance, and pinches the air a lot during this damp squib speech of his.

So the menu isn’t very different from what Choi Yoonsun served in Gwangjang. Her USP has always been homestyle cooking with a twist. But that was the demand of a Market that upheld traditionalism and Gangnam, being precipitously everchanging, would be quite something to keep up with. 

The weight of Mark’s words manifests on Kyungsoo’s shoulders. He lets out a sharp exhale and starts to clear the table, giving him plenty non-verbal cues to leave. You rush to help him out and meet his defeated form (crouched over the sink) in the kitchen.

The shuffling sound of your footsteps reaches his ears and he pivots to face you.

“We’ll be okay”, your voice is but a calm whisper prompting his creased forehead to slowly smoothen.

“We’ll be okay”, he forcefully echoes.

.

.

.

Grand Opening Day

A frisson of fear laced with excitement descends your spine.

Choi Yoonsun’s is enveloped in a pin drop silence save for the sound of Kyungsoo’s pacing. It’s grating on your nerves but Kyungsoo pacing is far better than Kyungsoo “going over the plan” for the umpteenth time. 

The kitchen’s prepped for battle so you’re seated at the cash counter, cuddled close with Imo, placated by her soothing, motherly presence. The three of you are like ticking time bombs, ready to go off at any minute.

This, right here, is the perfect example of a pinch-me-it-doesn’t-feel-real moment. You allow yourself to feel the forces at play as your eyes take in every nook and cranny of the restaurant. The place is agreeably well lit and the ventilation hoods aren’t an eyesore either. The decor’s minimalistic with a sand and stone colour scheme and the floor’s been scrubbed spotless. Eight sturdy wooden tables, tactically placed, allow for movement and privacy yet the area has been optimally utilized. 

Fifteen minutes for the ‘Open’ sign to light up. 

Kyungsoo and you proceed to help each other out with crisp bright yellow aprons affixed with red name tags (handpicked by Imo, the aprons made you both look like dumpy chicks) and clear plastic masks and wish each other luck with curt nods.

***

Imo’s sons are the first to arrive with some friends in tow. They are served with Kyungsoo’s Yachae Twigim and Budae Jjigae, your Gyeran-mari and Kimchi Bokkeum-bap and of course, Imo’s famous Kalguksu and Kimchi Mandu. Makes you wonder if they’ve had enough of it but they seem to be greatly enjoying themselves. Some of Hyunjin’s friends from Four Seasons are here too, their mighty presence driving Kyungsoo to the edge.

But a few compliments from them are enough to soothe his nerves.

Among the flurry of patrons through the day were vendors and stall owners from Gwangjang along with their family and friends, Kyungsoo’s acquaintances who you knew nothing about and neither did you care enough to ask, Mark Lee with his very handsome boss Park Chanyeol also dropped by sometime around noon. 

Your mother couldn’t make it to the opening. It stung a little but as usual, you sucked it up and went on with the highly stimulating day that anyway left you with very little time to mull over any unpleasantness.

***

By the end of it, you were pretty sure you’d wake up with blistered feet the next morning. 

It’d been a splendid opening with sales tallying up to KRW 2500,000: nearly two and a half times the estimate. Imo breaks into a dance at the figure, even Kyungsoo lips stretch into a reluctant grin.

You intensely wish Mark Lee were here to witness this euphoric win.

.

.

.

Six months later

Mark Lee had been right. 

Choi Yoonsun was miles from creating an identity in Gangnam. Regulars from Gwangjang could make it to the restaurant only twice or thrice a week, support from acquaintances had been gradually trickling, and some negative reviews floating around the internet about poor table turnover had also been driving potential guests away.

You tried to mitigate this by hiring part timers at minimum wage but for several reasons, none of them managed to stay: anti-social hours and Kyungsoo’s hostility being two of the key causes.

On your best days, the sales would total up to KRW 1500,000 and the weekday numbers had been dismal.

***

“Dooly-dooly!”

Your eyes light up at the familiarity of that voice. Mirroring its excitement, you run into the arms of its owner.

“Baekhyunnie!” 

Kyungsoo peers over his glasses while scrubbing the iron girdle, studying the floppy haired, cheerful man with a wide grin plastered across his face that’s pranced into the kitchen at closing time. 

Byun Baekhyun has been your best friend since time immemorial. Growing up in Bucheon, he’d been the only family you’d known besides your parents and Imo’s family. You weren’t even as close with Hyunwon and Hyunjin as you were with Baekhyun. Since work always kept your mother busy, his parents had practically been the ones to raise you and not once did they make you feel like an outsider.

“Yah! Quit calling me Dooly we’re not kids anymore! Have you eaten? Let me whip you up something real quick. Look at youuuu, when did you get this skinny! How long are -”

“Not to interrupt, but you’ve left the water running”, Kyungsoo drones, lazily pointing in the direction of the sink. 

You clearly remember turning it off before darting to greet Baekhyun.

‘Sonofa-’ exasperated, you mouth to Baekhyun, whose eyebrows have shot up to his hairline out of vicarious embarrassment, before turning around to face Kyungsoo who seems to be scrubbing the iron girdle to gold. “Chef, you’re closer to the sink.”

“Reiterating. You’ve left the water running. If you wanna go on tittle-tattling, by all means….this wastage is on you.”

“Make yourself comfortable”, too exhausted to pick a fight, you whisper to Baekhyun, gesturing towards the closest table, “I’ll be with you soon.”

***

“It’s bad”, Imo sighs, burying her face in her hands. 

11 P.M., two hours past closing time. 

The sparse lighting in the restaurant is causing you an eyestrain to look at the scribblings on the register. Your neck and shoulder muscles are tense from all the chopping, stirring, and scrubbing: a slow day does not translate to an easy day. You notice that Kyungsoo is growing weary, too. 

Or maybe discouraged.

You communicate with each other in evasive glances as if the restaurant not doing well is, somehow, on the two of you. 

“Imo”, Baekhyun speaks first so as to allay the looming dread, “I’ve been reading the online reviews and those who’ve visited here have been raving about the food - especially the Kalguksu. They say you’ve brought the flavours of Gwangjang to Gangnam. There’s this one thing, though - ”

“Sajangnim”, Kyungsoo interrupts a zealous Baekhyun’s pitch, “I don’t think this is any of his business. We’ve been keeping track of reviews and such - ”

“Let the boy speak. He’s family.” She says softly, pressing her fingers to her temples, clearly clutching at straws now.

Kyungsoo clenches his jaw and nods in Baekhyun’s direction, indicating him to continue.

“There-there”, Baekhyun stutters, eyes fixed on Kyungsoo who’s vaguely fascinated with his cuticles, “are some complaints about slow service. Particularly between starters and mains.”

After an uncomfortably rich pause, Imo gently rests her hand atop Baekhyun’s “Baekhyunah, how long are you here for?”

“For as long as you need”, the apples of his cheeks rise as his eyes crinkle into a gleeful smile.

***

“Somebody is early. Also, the cart looks different…it’s..?” 

Dressed in his usual black athleisure, round eyes framed with chunky glasses, Kyungsoo jogs lightly to match your out-of-character sprightly pace into the market. 

“Bigger. I bought a new one.” You chirp, shooting him an out-of-character smile.

Even the dreary weather isn’t a buzzkill because today is supposed to be Baekhyun’s first day at work.

“How did you get Sajangnim to agree? She can be -” 

“Miserly? Stingy? Close-fisted? Also, when will you stop calling her Sajangnim?”

“Just so that you can stop addressing me appropriately? Dream on. And I meant economical. Sajangnim is economical.”

“Chef, do you even listen? I bought it. With my own money. I figured since we’d need more ingredients now, we could use a bigger one.”

“And how did you come to that conclusion?” Impervious to his smug tone, you step away to pick up a one kg bulk pack of dried shiitake mushrooms while he’s examining a small batch of zucchini. 

“Because Baekhyun’s gonna be working with us now.”

“Temporarily. And we’re suddenly going to start doing better because of an inexperienced, unemployed -”

The wheels of the cart hit his ankle when you swivel it, making him wince in pain. 

“Oops! Sorry.”

“You did that on purpose!” He chides.

Half-shrugging, you say nonchalantly, “Serves you right. Baekhyun may be inexperienced but he isn’t unemployed. If anything, he’s doing us a favour. He’s whimsical like that.”

“I know”, he states, forcefully taking control of the cart, “I know he isn’t unemployed. He owns a Hapkido training academy for elementary school children and is on a break these days. I looked him up. I, personally, wouldn’t have hired him if it were my restaurant but I’m sure Sajangnim -”

“Chef?” You stop dead in your tracks.

“What?”

“You’re on…” you wanted to say ‘social media’ but the words sounded almost blasphemous to be used in front of a very uptight Doh Kyungsoo: a man with absolutely no online presence. 

“What is it?” His eyebrows knit together in annoyance.

“Nothing, let’s go.”

“You know what else is different today?” He says on your way out, a mischievous smile tugging at his lips.

“Hmm?”

“You. You’ve showered.” He chortles, thinking he’s being funny.

But with a hardened expression, you let him know that he’s crossed a line.

“Too far?”

“A tad.”

“Let’s get you some coffee.” 

“No.” You smile inwardly, relishing his apologetic tone.

“No?”

“We have to pick up Baekhyun’s apron and nametag.”

.

.

.

At first you thought you were imagining this. 

A group of high school girls frequenting Choi Yoonsun’s must obviously be because they want to get healthy, homely meals instead of the trash served at fast food chains or the uneconomical subsistence of instagrammable cafes. They’re obviously not here for the charming server with an athlete’s body and a boyish grin.

“He should wear respectable clothing”, says Kyungsoo, indicating at Baekhyun’s skinny jeans and fitted black tee, hiss sharper than the sizzle of minced garlic in butter.

“Why, I don’t think his cleavage is showing”, you retort, scooping out a serving of rice from the cooker.

“You have absolutely no shame”, he states matter-of-factly, stirring the soup pot.

“What? Is my cleavage showing, too?” You ask in mock-surprise, fixing your apron theatrically.

“Forget I said anything.” 

The aroma of Kimchi Jjigae had you salivating and you couldn’t wait to taste it for seasoning. Kyungsoo’s cooking amply made up for his drab, lacklustre personality. 

“Chef, lighten up. Any publicity is good publicity.”

“You sound like a tabloid journalist”, leaving the soup to simmer, he turns around to face you, “What’s wrong with your hair?”

“I got a haircut”, scrunching your face you respond suspiciously, the fact that he noticed it despite the hair cover makes your heart palpitate.

Taking the unwarranted attention away from your hair, you ask hastily, “You think they’re here for Baekhyun and not your food, right?” 

“Ye-yes”, he stutters, looking away.

“These people wouldn’t be here time and again if it weren’t for the food, Chef. You should know that.” 

Moving closer to him, you lightly dust flour off of his shoulders. 

“How did you get flour on your shoulders?”

His ears go scarlet. 

.

.

.

Imo comes into the kitchen while Kyungsoo and you are preparing for the day ahead. Baekhyun has gone down to Bucheon to oversee the affairs of his training academy. 

“There’s this new officer who’s reviewing all liquor permits issued this year. Be careful and make sure to check all IDs twice. I’m taking the day off. Will you two be okay by yourselves?” She swooshes out of the kitchen, not bothering with your incoherent replies.

“Can’t believe they’ve ditched us on a Friday.” You grumble, soaking clams in fresh water.

“We’ll be fine.” Kyungsoo reassures you.

***

It had been quite the day and nearing closing time, your feet were going sore. Baekhyun taking on the toughest role in the restaurant made you greatly appreciate his efforts. While most guests are civil, he’s experienced his fair share of rowdy ones firsthand and his ability to deal with them is unparalleled. He’s never, ever let any matter escalate to a point of embarrassment and has demonstrated the maturity to overcome every crisis situation with a smile on his face. 

The fact that he’s only temporarily here suddenly starts to wear you out. 

Kyungsoo sticks a handwritten note on the steel holder which reads - Yangnyeom - 2. It’s only been a little over eight months since the restaurant’s been fully functional yet the holder’s worn out more because of use and less because of time. 

“About time we advanced to kitchen order tickets, right? Saves Baekhyun…or either of us unnecessary excursions to the kitchen. Also, billing will be simpler that way.” You offer while straightening your apron and getting ingredients ready for Kyungsoo to prepare the sauce.

“Yeah, it does”, he seems really out of it as he’s getting chunks of juicy chicken ready for the fryer. He’s moving around the kitchen rather clumsily, nearly tipping over the bottle of corn syrup.

“Wah, Chef, are you alright? Would you like me to do this?” 

Resting his back against the wall, he slowly sinks to the floor, face buried in hands. “Yes, please.”

While you’re preparing a sauce the recipe for which you know like the back of your hand, his instructions don’t cease. The only thing you’ve ever liked about working with this man is that contrary to Imo, he does not believe in micromanaging. But right now it feels like you’re in the kitchen with her and not with Kyungsoo.

The tension causes you to lower the chicken into the fryer hastily resulting in specks of flaming oil to splatter onto your arm. 

He’s quick to rush to your aid with a cold towel.

“Yah, Chef, you’re making me nervous, what’s with all this nitpicking?” You almost yell at him as he’s gingerly dabbing the towel on the affected area.

“I’m sorry, I am so sorry. It’s just”, he pauses briefly, worrying at his lower lip, questioning eyes peering into yours, before helping you with the chicken - slightly more confident in his movements now, “whatever you do, don’t get out of the kitchen. Table number four, those guys there, are weird.”

“Weird, how?”

“Rowdy, mannerless and drunk. Really, really drunk. Steamrolled by the ‘Friday happy’.”

“Ah, Baekhyun’s well-versed with their kind. Don’t worry, just be polite. Are you sure you don’t want me to intervene?”

“Positive and whatever happens?”

“Stay put. Chef?”

“Yeah?”

“It’s only thirty minutes to closing. We can get through this, okay? And don’t accept further orders!”

***

Twenty minutes after, you’re aimlessly scrolling through your phone to take your mind off the stabbing pain in your lower abdomen. Simultaneously playing a little game of inventing the kind of content Kyungsoo would upload if he were a user on these sites only to be jolted with the realization as to how little you know about the man.

As the restaurant’s occupied with boisterous conversations and raucous laughter, you’re counting seconds to closing. Multiplying three hundred with every bracket of five on the clock.

The din comes to an abrupt halt when you hear a middle aged man bellow, “Yah, punk, do you have a death wish?!”

Gradually moving closer to the door, you try to get a view of the scene outside.

You see a polite but firm Kyungsoo bow before the man, “We can’t serve you any more alcohol, sorry, we’ll be closing now.”

The other two men along with the nasty vermin have long passed out. You quickly call for a cab, subconsciously grabbing a hold of Kyungsoo’s knife in the process.

“DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA WHO YOU’RE TALKING TO RIGHT NOW?” He thunders.

Kyungsoo recoils as the man grows louder by the second. “We cannot serve you anymore alcohol, sir.”

It happens in a flash. 

So fast you almost feel like you’re astral projecting.

One moment, the man raises a hand to strike Kyungsoo. Kyungsoo swerves. You dash out of the kitchen with the knife in your hand. Face to face with the man, you scream until your lungs hurt, “GET OUT! I SAID GET OUT OF MY RESTAURANT!”

The vermin’s companions stir at the sound. 

With frightened eyes they take in the scene as their drowsy brain is still trying to assess the situation for action. They soon pull the man by his shoulders while Kyungsoo’s tugging at your knife bearing arm that’s still raised in combat mode, simultaneously apologising to the rowdy guest.

Wagging his sausage like finger at the both of you he warns menacingly, “You have no idea what you’ve gotten yourself into.”

Slapping the tab on their table, you proceed to threaten him, “Settle this and get - the fuck - out of my restaurant before I call the cops.”

Throwing a couple of bills on the table, he staggers out, grumbling, “You just wait”, still wagging his finger and reeking of stale alcohol. 

It was only then that your grip on the knife eases as Kyungsoo carefully draws it out of your hand and you see, just like you, he’s shaking too.

“What just happened?” He’s the first to speak as you sit across the table from him, dark orbs glinting in the dim light, forehead beaded with sweat. His hands are tightly wound together as he places them on the table. One day without Baekhyun and Imo and Kyungsoo and you had messed up real bad. By the looks of it, neither of you were ready to accept this fact.

“We did exactly what we were supposed to do. Stop worrying!” You say more to yourself.

He’s not convinced.

“Chef, that man’s reaction wasn’t something that you could’ve preempted or….controlled in any way.” Finding yourself getting mildly annoyed, you try your best to lay the edge off of your voice. All you wanted was for him to be alright because, technically, none of this was his fault. 

“Would you have allowed him to take a swing at you?”

“He was far too drunk for that”, he exhales heavily and you notice his stance relax before clamping up again, “but you-you came out with a knife!”

His tone isn’t accusatory. He’s simply baffled.

“Fight or flight…”

“It’s my knife.”

“I’ll be sure to hide the murder weapon.”

He nods slowly.

“Do you need some water? Tea? A hug?”

You half expect him to scowl or groan or whatever it is that he usually does but he seems to be actually evaluating his options.

“A beer?”

“Down for Chimaek?”

Stood up to go into the kitchen, you awkwardly, and very, very slowly put an arm around his shoulders and give him a tight squeeze.

***

This was your first time having fried chicken and beer in complete silence - a few minutes felt like hours with the incident still hovering over both of you.

“Chef, you know we haven’t murdered anyone right?”

“The restaurant feels like a scene of crime to me. Also, what did he mean by ‘you just wait’?”

“Eh. Empty threats. Testosterone poisoning. Do you think they’ll throw me into prison for threatening him with a knife?”

“You should be sent in for pilfering stock”, he says gesturing at the tray between you, taking a chunky bite of the chicken, “you were going to take this home, weren’t you? It’s good, by the way.”

“Ah, this makes me happy”, you lean back into your chair, smiling discreetly at Kyungsoo’s messy fingers and mouth.

“A compliment from me makes you happy?” His eyebrows shoot up as he takes a swig of beer.

“Testosterone poisoning”, you say pointing an accusatory finger at him, “I couldn’t care less what you think. I’m pretty confident in my skills.”

“As you should be. Then what ‘makes you happy’? The thought of going to prison?”

“Yes”, you lie, “you think I’ll have a prison bitch?”

“I think you’ll be the prison bitch.”

You open your mouth to protest but what escapes is a mortifying burp.

Uncomfortable silence.

Meeting his eyes, you purse your lips, feeling your face flame. He smiles at you and says, ‘wait for it’, before belching. Loudly. Sending you both into fits of laughter.

.

.

.

“What happened here last week?”

Kyungsoo and you are seated opposite Imo like criminals before a cop in an interrogation room. Baekhyun is holed up in the kitchen, cleaning. For the most part, he avoids conflicts like these where Imo’s red hot beam of anger could be misdirected at him. 

She’s glaring at the responsible child, Kyungsoo, to break first but since it was your idea to keep the incident from her you start to explain. By the time you’re done she seems angrier, but not at the two of you. Only after a tiny lecture on how you should learn to be more tactful in such situations does she spell out her real concern.

Turns out the man the both of you had a scuffle with last week is the new officer’s brother-in-law. Now, the restaurant’s received a notice from the liquor permit’s office for an “inspection” in the coming week. Although aware that this situation isn’t either of your fault, Imo is far from pleased with this development.

“Fix this”, she orders and disappears into the kitchen.

There’s only one person who can help you out of this mess, but neither Kyungsoo nor you possess the emotional capacity to deal with him. 

“He’s our only option”, you deadpan.

With a heavy sigh, Kyungsoo dials Mark Lee.

***

Mouth stuffed with egg sandwich, Mark Lee garbles, “What do you want from me? It’s an inspection so let them come and - inspect.”

Imo’s taken off for the day and it’s just you and Kyungsoo trying to sort out the mess you weren’t entirely responsible for. 

“You said we could call you if we needed help with anything”, Kyungsoo reasons with Mark who’s now ogling at him as if he just got spoken to in an alien language.

“Yes, but I don’t see how I can be of help here?”

“Tell us anything you know about this new officer. Don’t leave anything out.” You’re nearly begging at this point and Mark Lee, as always, is reveling in your misery.

He relaxes in his seat, swirling the glass of watermelon juice, “You know you can’t buy your way out of this right? He’s an uptight bugger and you screwed up! Big time! All you had to do was give his brother-in-law a bottle of beer.”

“Oh, we’re sorry we didn’t have his family tree handy”, Kyungsoo rolls his eyes, “Besides, were just trying to abide by the rules - ”

The helplessness in Kyungsoo’s voice causes you to lose your cool at Mark. “Yah! Quit being cocky and just tell us everything you know!”

“Oh-oh feisty”, his mouth spreads into an annoying grin, “okay so he loves his wife, obviously, it’s why he’s doing this. Has an eleven year old daughter who is the apple of his eye. Erm, let’s see, he’s spent his teenage years in Japan and the country is all he’ll ever talk about. Piss him off and this inspection turns into a review and if things continue to spiral you’ll have your permit revoked. So be careful.” His eyes lock with yours making you shift uncomfortably in your seat.

“What are you planning to do with this information, anyway?”

“We don’t know just yet”, Kyungsoo starts clearing up the table, as usual, and Mark knows that his time is up.

“Dude”, he leans towards you, whisper-chortling, as Kyungsoo retires into the kitchen, “did you drive him out with a knife?”

Nodding, you grin gleefully.

“Fiery! You’re totally my boss’ type.” 

***

“So what are we going to do?” Rubbing your eyes and stifling a yawn, you ask Kyungsoo.

While the world sleeps, the market is awake. Buzzing with a contagious energy. Although you hate having to wake up this early, the moment you step into this space, you’re completely taken by its vigour and gusto for life. 

It’s nothing short of a celebration.

Chefs, big and small, passionately scour every nook and corner for the perfect herbs, veggies, and meats. You may not know each other closely or even by name but you feel part of a community - part of a family. True to character, you won’t ever stop whining about this routine with friends and family and occasionally with Kyungsoo, Baekhyun, and Imo but you know it in your heart of hearts, you wouldn’t skip sourcing for the world.

“So he’s spent his teenage years in Japan right?” Kyungsoo muses, lowering a crate of mudfish in the cart for today’s special, Chueotang.

“Let’s recreate his teenage years for him. Japanese dorm meals?” 

Kyungsoo stops abruptly, “That’s a thought!”

“We can set the menu today after closing.”

“How about a coffee now?” He asks, averting your gaze as a slight smile forms on his lips.

.

.

.

On the morning of the inspection, Kyungsoo sneezed. Once. Twice. And on the third strike he was sent home by Imo because “this is not a good look”. Or forced out of the restaurant - depends on who you ask. He whined a little, even shed a few tears but Imo steeled herself and drew him out, anyway.

Although the menu is simple, the concept is layered and robust. The exercise is, after all, being undertaken merely to impress the officer in question. Well equipped for the inspection, the restaurant’s closed for the day. 

This is nothing Baekhyun and you can’t manage but, obviously, Kyungsoo feels otherwise. He’s been calling to check in in intervals of five but seems like the medication’s finally kicked in and put him in a state of deep slumber. Good for him. And for you. 

Two hours until showtime.

Under your close supervision, Baekhyun is labouring over the fairly straightforward stuff: tako sausages, potato and macaroni salad and egg sandwiches while you’ve kicked off the recipe for rolled omelettes.

Egg mixture aside, you start the rice cooker, leave green tea to boil for salmon ochazuke while the frying pan’s heating up for yaki udon.

***

Once you’d gotten all the dishes down, done exactly the way instructed by Kyungsoo: rolled omelettes, yaki udon, tako sausage, potato and macaroni salad, egg sandwiches and salmon ochazuke, it was time for you to take on the simplest but the most provoking dish on the menu.

Neko Manma. Or, cat rice. 

“Ah, Dooly, shall I bring out the jar of bonito flakes?” Baekhyun prompts.

“The one Chef brought us this morning?”

He hums in response.

“I think we should use the store bought one instead.”

“But he’s worked on this recipe all week. You sure you wanna do that?”

“Positive.”

“He’ll flip out.”

“I’ll deal with it. We’re altering the recipe for Neko Manma, this ones too pretentious. Doesn’t sit right with me.”

“So, what do you want to do with it?” Baekhyun’s tone is wary and questioning. 

“Rice, soy sauce, store bought bonito flakes and just a faint drizzle of butter. Nice and clean.” You respond confidently. 

“Are you really sure?”

***

“Why are you here?” You hiss at Kyungsoo while Imo is outside, busy greeting the motley of high-headed officials, giving them a brief of the restaurant, herself, her team, and going over the licenses and documentation. 

Face flushed, Kyungsoo’s lips are swollen and his eyes are runny, puffy, and bloodshot. He’s clearly in the need for some rest.

“To see if everything’s in order.” His voice is hoarse.

He starts to closely examine the entrees laid out, a smile of approval gracing his lips until he stops short of cat rice.

“These bonito flakes -”

“I didn’t use the fresh ones. I thought -”

“There’s no miso soup?” 

“No, Chef, I reckoned -”

“No grilled fish? Are you being lazy?”

“Chef, no, I am not being lazy. The original recipe just didn’t feel right. So i changed it up a little -”

“Changed it up? That decision was not yours to make!”

“It’s just a side, it’s not going to matter so much!”

Absolutely livid, he runs a hand through his hair and laments. “If we weren’t this close to serving i would’ve dumped this into the bin because that’s where it belongs.”

“Chef, please”, your voice quivers, “let me explain! This was supposed to be the lightest dish on the menu. We ended up styling it with… overwhelming ingredients, so I -”

“I’m utterly confused! What on earth led you to believe you’re qualified enough to teach me? I’ve trained at a diner in Tokyo for two whole years. I know exactly what I’m doing here!”

Eyes brimming with tears, you glance over and Baekhyun who has ‘I told you so’ written all over his face. 

"Kyungsooyah? When did you come in? What’s going on here?”

Imo’s bewilderment cuts through the tension. 

“Sajangnim, I was feeling slightly better so I thought of dropping by to wish you luck." 

Courtesying, he quickly dashes out through the back door. 

***

The inspection has been revoked. Unofficially, atleast. The restaurant is to receive a written order in a week’s time. 

The officer was impressed to the extent of apologising for his brother-in-law’s behaviour. He even lauded Imo on teaching her staff to stick to the establishment’s principles which made you wonder if he was fully aware of the facts of the case: knife and all. 

He also mentioned how, as a student, he’d eat a bowl of Neko Manma before every exam because at the time, to him, anything else was unpalatable. 

And that, this was what he considered to be the perfect recipe. 

You go through the rest of the day as if sleepwalking. How stupid could you have been believe you were “on good terms” with Kyungsoo or that this was an equal and productive partnership. The fact remained that he still thought of you as someone frivolous: some air-headed moron who has no idea what she’s doing. 

Someone beneath him. 

You made an effort to appreciate this victory but the day had only left you with a bitter taste. Your mother had been right. You’ve always been too soft. Too trusting. Letting people in too easily and allowing them to walk all over you. 

Now, Kyungsoo’s always been like this: controlling, stubborn, absolutely thorough. He never deviates from his well laid out plans. But today was different. Today, you expected something out of him. You expected him to trust you. You expected him to understand your reasoning, to give you a chance. To comprehend the fact that you could have a mind of your own and that not everything has to be exactly by the book. 

You loathe yourself for expecting this out of him. 

Sailing rough seas together doesn’t bloom friendships. You were stupid to think of him as a friend while, in all these months, his opinion of you had remained the same. 

Contrary to the Gwangjang days, you’d long stopped wishing him gone. In some farthest corner of your heart you were even grateful that he chose to say. 

You’ve been so stupid.

.

.

.

Two months later

The kitchen has been fervent but hushed. 

After all this time, Baekhyun, Kyungsoo and you seem to have found a rhythm. You don’t need to verbally communicate to get through a workday. 

But, you used to. 

Sometimes unnecessarily even. Kyungsoo and you hardly saw eye to eye on most things but there would be some semblance of friendly workplace banter. He’d say a little something about a perfectly done piece of meat or a well seasoned soup. Baekhyun would take wickedly funny pot shots at some of the customers (to the utmost horror of Imo). Imo would sporadically push morsels of whatever was being prepared into your mouths. 

Baekhyun receiving feedback in the form of grunts has shut him up altogether. And the busyness of the restaurant has seemed to have blinkered Imo into not being able to perceive the tension between Kyungsoo and you.

It’s a dance to no music. 

Furtive glances. Measured smiles. Curt nods. Exceptional dishes. Decent earnings. 

That’s it.

Maybe that’s how it should’ve always been.

“Ready to go?” Baekhyun asks, dressed in a well fitted black shirt and slacks. 

You’re mopping the floor. Clearly not ready to go.

When you make this known with a sharp glare, Baekhyun giggles. 

Nothing good can come out of that impish smile of his. But before you can sink your claws into him and drag him back, he’s already chatting up Kyungsoo who’s fixing the chairs.

“Kyungsoo, you coming?” He says a little too loudly and you groan. But you know Kyungsoo all too well. He’s one to decline offers involving socialising with you (unless of course, the offer is put forth by his dearest Sajangnim). 

’You can do better than that’, you mouth to Baekhyun.

Incurious about Kyungsoo’s answer, you’re fully prepared to chomp Baekhyun’s ear off for inviting him.

“Sure”, Kyungsoo says plainly.

Sure?

Without taking the where-what-why route like normal people do? Just..sure?

“Great! We’re going out for drinks since it’s Dooly’s birthday today.”

“Oh. Happy birthday.”

“Thanks. But, Chef, you can’t come. I don’t want you there. I’m sor-”

Swallowing the apology crackling at the tip of your tongue, you dash into the kitchen, your periphery catching his lowered gaze and tight smile. 

Regularising the erratic thrumming of your heart with deep breaths, you shove the mop into the storage area, take off your apron and throw it in the laundry bag (which you were to deal with the next morning), straighten your outfit, fix your hair, dab some rosy tint onto your lips, throw your tote bag over your shoulder, run back out, grab Baekhyun by purposefully lodging your nails into his arms, and take off.

[luminous-shifting-vibes]

*sequel* to actual fucking quotes from the shiftblr coffeehouse discord server

once again, it's out of context because x1000 funnier

also x1000 longer than previous post

"ur satan is gnc af"

"Bestie I’m already having gender envy over a fucking demon please"

"O_O ODEPIJHFbavevisdpvfhzdcnjawedsidjksjdkoeirjfmkdsoeirujdksodifjndmksoidfjdksidfj ITS" NOT IN MY FRAFTS IS SPEDNT 1 hour PN THAT SHIT"

"AUGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH"

"ohoho sexy"

"I am very proud of myself"

"himbo x edgy fuck"

"YOU COULD SQUISH HES CHEECKS"

"he has teefs"

"SQUASH"

"good for biting 📷"

"he's a himbo basically"

"B͂̒̄iͫ̍̈tͧ̓ͯè̄̇"

"bifth"

"i havent watched blue exorcist in years but mr okumura my beloved </3"

"MY LIFE QUESTIONS HAVE BEEN ANSWERED"

"is it important information to mention that the person i put up for my turn is the son of satan" "I know like 1 thing about everyone who isnt ranboo lmfao"

"crimes"

"tumblr sexyman"

"idk why but my first thought was cowboy onceler"

"I vibe with him but he is very long and twisty"

"steampunk e-girl"

"steampunk tumblr sexyman"

"Canonically bi crimelord I agree!!"

"OOO FRIEND SHAPED"

"ARTIST SIGHTED"

"they look like someone i would want to be friends with but is way cooler than me so i'd never actually talk to them"

"babby..... would die for him"

"honestly i probably kin him"

"i'm sure he's lovely but he looks way too much like my ex i'm sorry-"

"i'd be down for another rotation! i have another twink to show y'all"

"Also :00 blonde friend"

"Let us all infodhmo"

"Hsjagdvbs shhh im on phone"

"Nix woukd you like to joon?

"skitters away"

"I have two braincells and they both drink dumb bitch juice"

"oof wait whats the order again i have 0 memory"

"i want to bond with him over cosplay-"

"Awkwardly watches in band kid"

"One day I'm gonna a broadway star"

"which isnt to say they were bad. they were just fortnite dancing during rehersals"

"I threw it so hard my glasses flew off and slid under the stage right divider"

"anyway heres my boi"

"emo"

"haha emo"

"virgil sanders kinnie"

"he looks like he listens to my chemical panic at the fallout boy"

"Bro I bet he'd kick my ass with his deck"

"bird man my beloved"

"fuck i had so much to say and then i forgot it all"

"Birds!!"

"guiguhuh"

"crabrave"

"She sounds like someone I would end up stealing her personality"

"yess name collector gang"

"alias glass aiden haven absinthe fish brick rice"

"But I have Cypress, Remure, Genesis, Lemres, and Comet"

"And she's named after a mars candy bar bc alien"

"Hey, if plato went by plato, you can be king thief"

"im not dissing my gramma like that shfojd"

"My dad has seven legal names" "bitches be like *looks at fictional character* *steals their name* it's us we're bithces"

"coraline lowkey traumatized me but i adore it regardless"

"mmmmmm magic man :]"

"°0° green man"

"criminal (affectionate)"

"he would shoplift a candy bar from walmart and then brag to all of his friends about the sick stealing he did"

"despite the fact he's canonically been capable of overpowering a minor deity"

"i would commit so many crimes for him"

"Very babey"

"Yes please tell green man he is very pog"

"he also keeps a lot of dumb secrets"

"but I will sorely miss the chaos and energy of this here chat until I wake again" (by request XD)

"i just say words and if they're funny then they're funny"

"* or extremly chaotic either works"

"at this point we are just taking turns rambling"

"oH--"

"bc my brain has a schedule"

"Hopefully they have gyoza there or I will lose my mind"

"hehe yes spooky man"

"my ghost glucose guardian"

"the head of the undead group that lives there, and we end up dating. (yes I date a ghost, no I will not be taking constructive criticism /lh)"

"ghosts r just inherently sexy"

"i mean im becoming a squid thing so"

"Raven quirk raven quirk!!"

"ł â m p"

"łæmp"

"mothman: ooh lamp you look very nice today! do you come here often? mothman: wait shit no"

"I'd date a ghost"

"mine is still accurate, i am still sobbing (/j)"

"p e e p e e"

""@nick wilde is a tumblr sexyman" is the best thing i have ever seen"

"im sorry im cackling like a dying hyena"

"you're all 12 year olds"

"PEENIE"

"He once caused global warming on accident so he could get a tan"

"god, what a himbo. i love him"

"that reminds me of my friends kin assigned me jesus"

"Man outside of battle be like: princely crying but then in battle hes like: "CATACLYSM! DISASTER! DEVASTATION!" Chill out man"

"Every time I talk about satan it never fails to shock people it's my favorite thing to do"

"im kin assigning him roman sanders" ""Oh yeah he caused global warming because he wanted to get girls" "he what""

"oh damn i forgot satan was straight"

"twink appreciation club"

"give us the twinks"

"my first thought was bottom-"

"so many people to try and get his dad to love him"

"daddy issued"

"OH MY GOD ITS WILBUR"

"Big boy but"

"anyways janus is swagggg"

"........................."

"gib twink"

"give twink then i will share"

"holds him gentle like hamburger"

"This dumb bitch opened a book that said "do not open" and got possessed by a little bastard"

"he is. fragile creachur"

"klug is beauty klug is grace i would let him step on my face"

"If I'm playing swap and I have to hear one more "Pwanet Powew" Im gonna lose it"

"Who is to blame? Pandora or the box?"

"Bakugo isnt my type but I respect the drip"

"i say like my type isnt long-haired pretty boys and girls that look so gnc that people have a history of confusing them for men"

"hes a gremlin and i can appreciate a pretty gremlin"

"that is to say i am attracted to VFlower vocaloid. This is a confession."

"note i am a lesbian"

"You may like Schezo wegey"

"why does he have one single expression"

"soul soul eater passes the vibe check"

"magic wand"

"I Want To Hold His Hand"

"i would commit a war crime for him any war crime idc which one"

"my favorite one is when he sounded rlly gay because he said "Muscular bodies keep me satisfied""

"p e a n u t"

"Klug is a homophobic homosexual its just facts"

"grug from the croods is peak male performance"

"jaw drops to floor, eyes pop out of sockets accompanied by trumpets, heart beats out of chest, awooga awooga sound effect, pulls chain on train whistle that has appeared next to head as steam blows out, slams fists on table, rattling any plates, bowls or silverware, whistles loudly, fireworks shoot from top of head, pants loudly as tongue hangs out of mouth, wipes comically large bead of sweat from forehead, clears throat, straightens tie, combs hair Ahem, you look very lovely."

"tag yourself im the fireworks shooting from the top of the head"

"i like essays"

"central time gang"

"11:11 pog-" (wait... is that a suprise angel number?? yes it is lovelies just for you <3)

"Then again im also a dumbass bitch who wonders what the souls in soul eater taste like. SERIOUSLY THOUGH. THEY LOOK TASTY AS HELL!!!! LIKE GODDAMN BRO YOU'RE MAKING ME FUCKING HUNGRY. Like. that shit- it's Bone Apple motherfucking Teeth. hell yea my guy. Im hongy now.... shlorp I'm seriously considering this. Like. They seem kinda like a liquid? But a solid? Are they like jello? The fuck they taste like my guy???? I keep imagining they're like sour, like sour candy maybe? Or do they taste salty? Sweet? Maybe some combo of two? Do they even have a taste or is it about the texture? The sensation? God my mouth is watering what the hell. I am starving. I think I need to go get a cookie. I'm gonna go get a cookie. Brb. I'm better. I'm still craving souls though. Which is a weird-ass cringey thing to say but I'm being dead-ass rn. They just.... look tasty???? And I wanna eat one. Thus. I am shifting to Soul Eater for the express purpose of satisfying my fucking cravings. enjoy"

"points were made"

"jello? more like helloooo schloooAHFJDSDAIDWNALDHSJKDAIDANDM"

"WAIT I THINK I HAVE AN ANIME GIRL BITING VIDEO TOO"

"anime girl voice: mmm! mm... ahhhhmp!! mmm, mmm... aaahmp!"

"i think it sounds great i'm going to start eating like that"

"several people are typing"

"do these look edible to you"

"forbidden gummies"

"when I was on lsd I couldn't eat my fruit gummies because I thought they were alive because they had little faces on them"

"oh shit yeah don't do drugs"

"anyways general consensus is puyos are edible, ty for your input everyone"

"everypony is a word so powerful it can bring nations to its knees"

"pls the self control it's taking me not to say "hewwo everypony" in gen chat when someone new joins-"

"hewwo evewrypony uwu deaw cewestia i hopwe it doewsnt wain owo"

"ive cooked up a sowution wiwth the knowwege ive acwued. they say a kitcwen time saves niwne, but im just savwing two. Ive gathewwed the inwedients to make a time sowbet. Thewe's hawdly woom fow seconds when the seconds mewt away."

"I had a ten year old sister... you know what happened to her??? very sad, very tragic... she turned eleven....."

"NIIICE"

"Guts dont say the secks word :( /j"

"watch your fucking language in front of the president"

"im so sorry lumi"

"i think you're like ehhhh 8/10 funny"

"now me???? 10/10. Hilarious"

"sometimes i have to take a step back and remember that this is the same guts i follow on tumblr /lh"

""ok every here's some good shifting advice!!! uwu have a good day" "yeah i did lsd and ate fruit gummies""

"i have one setting and it's whatever this is"

"my bitch ass cat just pushed the door open with his fuzzy face and now my sleeping dad is being lulled into dreams by Cosmo Sheldrake's 'Pliocine'."

"me on discord: nick wilde"

"me on tumblr: shifting water! haha funne! me on here: my hermit crabs are cannibals also i want to eat souls."

"im sorry yOUR VIBESA RE JUST SO DIFFERNT"

"u give off older cousin ive never spoken to but always admire at the family gatherings vibes"

"what the fuck"

"BC I HAVE LIBERTU"

"If you adopt me then yes"

"am I qualified for dad jokes???"

"we're all a lot smarter on tumblr"

"I'm like "awww... sweet... sweet little shiftlings... posting such sweet shiftling content... so pure, so wholesome... does not even know abcs....""

"can't think before you speak if you never think B)"

"I'm not responsible enough to be a mom"

"cat pet"

"show us pictures of the cat or i will do Crime"

"maybe thats me being a coward tho"

"MOTH!!!! MOTH MY BELOVED"

if y'all want I can make this a series bc shiftblr keeps giving me more content

[ambrial-blog]

A Therapy Session from Hell.

therapist (see your version of a feral Striker coming towards her office and planting himself firmly on the couch. Red eyes spiraling a squirming Blitzo coiled in his tail.

Striker: (Teeth clenched tail crushes Blitzo) (We need some mating Therapy: I need time alone with Blitzy, without his vermin

Therapist: OK, not that sort of Therapist: sees the hell knife flashing in the cowboy's hand, but for you, I'll make an acceptation. . are you hungry? Do you need a snicker? I have a bunch of them in my top draw along with Twixt.

Therapist: no whiskey, no coffee.

Striker: his nails sink deep into Blitzo skin as he puts his face into Blitzo's back as he fights off another bout of anger.

Blitzo: cries out in pain, trying to twist away. But Striker wraps his arms around him, nipping a little harder.

Striker pulls Blitzo into his lap, his tail caressing his face.

Blitzo:(growling could be heard: his mouth full of a torn pieces of cloth drenched in chloroform is fighting to stay awake.

Striker: Blitz, please accept me. I need you. I need you to be a part of this. Can't you see I don't want to do this alone? My sugar cube, I'm sorry.

Blitzo: managed to fight the cloth from his mouth, "You shot Millie and Moxie before we came here! With your blessed weapons, and left their bodies to rot in a grimy alley. You shoved your cock up my ass and rutted for about half an hour before pulling me up and sinking your fangs, leaving your mark. A mark, I can't wash away! I have three or four mating marks, thanks to you!

Blitzo: How am I going to run a business now! Stolas well ask questions. You worried about being alone. Well, Asshole, I am alone, I'll die alone, and everyone I love leaves my ass. So I leave them first, so I have some control over my life.

Striker: pulls a bottle of chloroform from his pocket, takes the rag, and presses to Blitz's face as Blitzo reaches for the blood-red hilt of Striker's knife but gasps when the blade slides deep into his rib cage.

Striker: why don't you understand Blitz? I said we are tethered together till the day you die. Striker twists the knife. How does that feel, partner? Eyes swirling red.

Blitzo: hears his inner demons voices "No one loves you BlitzO, your gonna die alone BlitzO, you are nothing more than a plaything Blitzy his hand reaches out, his claws digging into Striker's forearm as his consciousness begins to fade.

Therapist: Thinking about clearing out her calendar for a whole year for these two. (I will help any way I can, Striker, but you need to let up on Blitz. There is no fault here, and pregnancy can be beautiful: heals Striker's side, your little hellion is strong. And is the best of both worlds. Blitzo is going through some deep shit, and it is hard. Little by little, he is getting there, but you need to have patience, cowboy. And I know patience is not a common thing around here, especially in your state.

I do agree you need some time with Blitz to get him out of the city. The thing with Blitzo is he thinks no one loves him. He is wrong. But he can't accept that. Years of abuse can do that. You don't look at yourself as a person but as a thing.

Striker: (Mouth runs, dry) as he cards his fingers across Blitzo face. His eyes start to tear before the swirling red eyes are back.

Striker: Stolas... Veerosika... Fizzuroli... himself and that shit-bag of a father of his were to blame. But how could he help Blitz defeat his inner demons? He swallows thickly, dislodging his blade from Blitz's rib-cage Striker puts Blitz's hand on his stomach. As he coos into his ear. "Sugar cube, what you feel now is our child kicking, Our little hellion will love you so much Blitzy, your heart will burst with joy: upon hearing its heartbeat, I've seen how you treat Loony, you'll be over the moon with this spawn.

And I'll finely be happy with you by my side. I don't care who I have to go through to get you. Your place is and forever will be by my side.

Therapist: Great, we just had a breakthrough.

Striker's tail grabs a blanket for Blitz, wrapping themselves up stares pointedly at the Therapist, his tail rattling with minor agitation.

Striker: I want Stolas dead! I want my claws drenched in his fucking blood to feel it seep through my fingers. I want Blitz crushed beneath me, screaming my name for all eternity. I want to feel the thrum of his body as he twists and writhes, drenched in the blue blood's life force high on blood lust.

Therapist: sits back down: with a shaky smile.

Striker: I attend to carve out the pop star's heart the next time I see her crab-infested pussy. I'll rip open her heart and give it to him as a memento of my love.

Therapist:  Romance is vital in keeping any relationship alive. 

Striker: leans in closer, careful of the baby and his mate. The Therapist leans in closer, too, trying not to wake the drugged-out Blitzo.

Striker: I'll track down that Harlequin reject and shred his body before scattering to the corners of hell.

Therapist: Jots down notes. I'll replace my darker half every night. I will fill his body so full of my love that he shits my seed for a week. I will contort his body so the next time he is the one to get pregnant and suffer through these horrid mood swings.

Therapist, I feel like Chinese. Do you feel like Chinese? on the phone with the restaurant: get you a pound of ragoons and some beef Lo- Mein and Teriyaki chicken, a side of green tea ice cream, and a sweet pickle and a half and half iced tea. 

Striker: nods head. 

Striker: takes a shuddering breath. His eyes start to fade back to their impish green. His tail continues to rattle as he smiles watches Blitz snuggle into his side. He could feel the baby reaching out to its father.

Striker: If he rejects me again, If I have to fight him like a feral beast. (Striker got a faraway look in his eyes- I'll put my fist through his chest, I'll rip out his beating heart and place it into my chest so I can take him everywhere I go.

Therapist: So same time next week, and I'll bring a Stolas size punching bag.

Striker: Blitzo, well forgive me, won't he?

Therapist: He would be a fool not to, but you need to take better care of your mate no more chloroforming him at our sessions. Let our little Harlequin speak. 

[aphrodites-law]

A Bit of Clarity 🍂 (10/?) The visions had started last autumn, a year ago now. It had caused a bit of chaos for some, a bit of clarity for others. Two days ago, Clarke Griffin had been perfectly fine managing both her Café and her stress. But now she was curious - so deeply curious about the vision of herself entwined with the aloof Lexa Woods that it was leading her to complete distraction. (ao3)

[part 1] [part 2] [part 3] [part 4] [part 5] [part 6] [part 7] [part 8] [part 9]

The play wasn't horrible by any stretch of the imagination. It was the most fun Clarke had had in a long time. She laughed so hard at parts that tears sprung to her eyes and her cheeks started to hurt by the end of it. The 1920s décor and costumes were stunning, the performances captivating, and the story the perfect balance between humor and social commentary. Even Lexa, who already knew the jokes and twists, still laughed loudly.

Clarke took as much joy from the sound as she did the play. When the curtain fell for the last time and the lights fully came on, she looked over at Lexa and found herself captivated. Lexa was still clapping for her cousin’s success, her face beaming with pride, and Clarke couldn’t really explain why it made her adore this woman so much more.

"Are you hungry?" Lexa asked her.

Clarke nodded mutely, unsure what to do with the intensity of her feelings. She let Lexa take her hand and lead her out of the theater, where the crowd spilled out of the great glass doors.

Cocoa Street was the longest street in Costial, cutting through the city in a curving fashion. Clarke's favorite part was the food trucks; rows of them on both sides with their own specialties and flair. You could very well order duck à l'orange with mashed pumpkin at one truck and a burger with fries at the next one. The Italian ice cream truck was between the rival crab cake trucks and the Noodle Brothers were right next to the Pizza Sisters. There were lines wherever you went, sometimes even street performers to soften the blow of the waiting time. It was absurd and it was wonderful.

They ate Chicago-style hot dogs and curly fries, slowly walking down the street as they laughed about the play. Lincoln had relied on alternate history to weave the visions into his tale, using them for comedic effect in the more dramatic beats. A secondary character had one in the middle of a monologue, suddenly passing out while a crowd rushed over to him. The visions were reenacted with tricks of light and masked characters, reminiscent of interpretive dances.

"Okay, I have to ask," Clarke brought up while they meandered down the street. "The castle on the hill - that's the Polis Hotel, right?"

Lexa nodded. "Lincoln has a complicated relationship with his heritage, to say the least. He's keenly aware growing up in a luxury hotel was a great privilege, but it also messed with his head. He basically shared a home with thousands of strangers for eighteen years."

"I'd always admired Polis from afar, but I can't imagine growing up there. Don't get me wrong, that was one hell of a party, but-"

"It's not a place for a kid," Lexa finished, in agreement.  

Clarke ate the last bite of her chocolate waffle and threw the paper in the trash. “You must be pretty familiar with it.”

Lexa glanced at her and smiled. "The cat and I go back."

"Right. That night was a bit intense, even for you."

Lexa let out a laugh, looking away with a hum. "You know, you make me sound quite strange."

Clarke bumped her shoulder. "You pinned me against the staircase - you are strange."

"I didn't… pin you," Lexa replied with a huff. "I was drunk, high off an excellent game of poker… and I saw you. And I needed to be close to you."

Clarke stopped them in the street, grateful they'd left the busy part. "And the Gazette?"

“What about it?”

"You offered me a side job. Just like that."

"Oh," Lexa remembered. "I genuinely thought you'd be good at it. Still do. Your style would be perfect."

That was surprising, but Clarke wasn't convinced. "It wasn't because of your vision?"

"It was a way to talk to you, yes, but I meant it. I know the visions were… well, the reason for this, that they nudged us together, but I'd noticed you drawing before."

They walked a bit further before Clarke took a small breath. "I, uh, may have looked at the pages in older prints."

Lexa glanced at her. "And?"

"It could be fun. I'm just not sure-" Clarke scrunched her nose. "I'm just so rusty. Art is what I got into college for, but then I took up business classes and… I don't know, it just felt so much easier. Don't get me wrong, managing the café kicks my ass every day, but I like the challenges. With drawings, paintings, whatever… it feels like putting your heart on the line each time. And nine times out of ten, your heart ends up getting trampled."

Lexa took her hand to stop her. "I would never suggest you do something that makes you uncomfortable. If it's truly just a hobby to you, a way to pass the time, you should keep it that way."

It wasn't like Clarke hadn't considered it. Drawing, sketching; it came as naturally as breathing. She'd done it since she could hold a pencil and she still did it whenever the world became too loud. It was an escape; a different way of thinking. Her own little world. Illustrating short stories could be a welcome breath of fresh air. A way for her brain to snap away from bills, calls, deliveries, and the hundreds of post-its in her tiny office.

"And for the record," Lexa added as she stepped closer, her voice impossibly soft, "I would very much stand in the way of whoever or whatever would try to trample you."

Clarke grinned, very much aware that, not so long ago, these were not words she could have ever imagined Lexa Woods telling her.  

* * *

As she had the last time, Lexa insisted that she walk Clarke back to her apartment. After a night full of laughs, great food, and Lexa's hand in hers, Clarke still didn't have her fill and so didn't tease Lexa too much for also wanting to enjoy every last second. When they made it to her door, Clarke turned around and leaned against it. Tonight couldn't end here.

"By the way, you were wrong earlier. My vision isn't the reason for this." Clarke waited a beat before playing her last hand: "It's not the vision I thought about that night after the rooftop."

Lexa's mouth parted open and she glanced at Clarke's lips.

"I was going to," Clarke continued, "but it didn't hold a candle to how you made me feel when you grabbed my hand."

Lexa swallowed when Clarke reached for her jacket to tug her closer. "How did I make you feel?"  

Clarke pulled her in until their foreheads touched. "Warm. Dizzy."

"Dizzy on a rooftop? That's a safety hazard."

"Are you trying to turn me on or are you trying to make me laugh?"

"They're not mutually exclusive."

They broke into laughter anyway. Lexa leaned in to kiss her, only to stop just as their lips brushed.

"You never told me about your vision," Lexa pointed out. "Not… not exactly."

Clarke smiled, smug. "Oh you want details, hm?"

"I'm a journalist. A thorough account would be nice, yes."

Clarke narrowed her eyes at her before crushing their lips together, unbelievably pleased when Lexa moaned and wrapped her arms around her waist.

"Shut up, journo," Clarke husked between kisses.

Lexa kissed her with little restraint then, moving until Clarke was pressed against the door. Each one of Lexa's kisses felt like something special; like finally she'd shed her old fears. Clarke didn't even want to think of not being close to Lexa right now. The night couldn't end - not like this. She pulled back and gazed at Lexa, trying to catch her breath.

This close, Clarke could commit to memory every detail of her face. She'd always thought she got a good look at Lexa at the café, even with the counter between them, but it was nothing compared to this. Lexa's lips were full and at their most tempting when slightly parted, betraying her own desire. Her eyes were hooded now, longing, and Clarke had little doubt hers reflected the same want. She threw caution to the wind:

"Come inside?"

Lexa hesitated, visibly torn.

"We don't have to do anything. I have a nice wine we can try. Some of Gus's tartlets left over. We can even sit with the box between us. I just… I don't want tonight to be over yet."

* * *

It was not what she'd had in mind. She swore it. Nevertheless, when Clarke found herself straddling Lexa on her living room couch with the box of tartlets discarded on the floor (the tartlets well finished by then), she couldn't remember why the hell not.

Maybe the air had already been too charged by the time she wiped her thumb over Lexa's lip to catch a crumb there, and maybe Clarke had liked playing with fire, but now she was well on her way to being burned. Lexa's hands palmed her ass while they kissed, but it was the boldest she allowed herself to be and Clarke was quickly reaching her breaking point.

"Touch me," she pleaded between kisses.

Lexa let out a choked moan when Clarke reached for her hand and guided it to her breasts. She paused, looking up. The green in her eyes had darkened, especially in the dim light, and she breathed deeply.

"Clarke…"

"I know, I know, just - something. Anything." Clarke leaned her forehead against Lexa's. "I feel like a fucking teenager."

Lexa let out a small laugh before kissing her sweetly, slowly. It had the soothing effect she had intended, and before Clarke realized it, Lexa had lied her down on her back. She hovered over her, then looked down at her cleavage and pressed her lips against the exposed skin.

"Is that better?" She asked.

"Close…"

Lexa let out a hum against her skin, pressing another kiss lower. Clarke brushed her fingers in Lexa's thick hair, digging just slightly in her scalp, surprised when Lexa let out a small moan and then froze with wide eyes, like Clarke had just found her secret.

"Oh," Clarke breathed out, her smile widening. She repeated the gesture, pressing her fingers just a bit harder.

Lexa immediately grabbed her hands and pinned them down on each side of Clarke's head.

"Don't do that," she warned her, breathless.

Clarke smirked. "I think I will."

"It was just a reflex," Lexa blushed. "It's been a while."

Clarke couldn't help but laugh, happiness bubbling in her chest at how comfortable she felt with Lexa's body slotted between her legs. "Well, I'm very happy to find out whatever draws out those sounds from you."

Lexa seemed to realize just how close they were, locked together with their fingers entwined. And just like the rooftop when she'd suddenly grabbed her hand, her expression changed. Confident. Eager.

She sat back, eyes trailing down Clarke's body before she let go of her hands to touch her thighs.

"You like control, don't you, Clarke?" She asked. She ran her hands up her thighs, caressing them slowly. "But not now."

Clarke nearly lost her breath, not expecting the way Lexa had shifted so quickly from embarrassed to self-assured. She watched as Lexa drank her in, from her bunched up dress to the fast rise and fall of her chest.

"Touch yourself," Lexa told her, and then leaned down to brush her lips against hers. "The way you did after the rooftop."

"Lexa-"

"I want to watch you."

Clarke nodded, her hand trailing down her own body to the bottom of her dress. Lexa watched as she reached beneath the fabric, eager to follow her command. She slid her hand beneath her tights, beneath her underwear, moaning at the relief when she finally touched herself. She knew Lexa could feel her heat; knew they were both reaching a point of no return. It had started when Lexa had kissed her at the start of their date, but Lexa's hands on her ass while they'd kissed had awakened her completely.

Lexa briefly glanced between their bodies, groaning when she saw Clarke's hand moving.

"Is this how you did it?" She asked. "Two fingers?"

Clarke let out an obscene moan, too far gone to care. "Three," she whimpered.

Lexa's jaw clenched, but her control was remarkable. "Did you imagine it on the rooftop? Me inside you against that wall?"

Clarke's eyes squeezed shut as she bit down on her lip. "Yes. Fuck."

She swiped her fingers over her clit, but the angle and her tights restricted most of her movements. She was fairly certain Lexa knew it. Lexa leaned down again, kissing her neck.

"How did I fuck you?" She asked by her ear, one hand reaching up to lightly brush against her breast.

Clarke panted, fighting the unbearable need to penetrate herself. She needed release, and fast, but a part of her was too stubborn to give in just yet.

"You pressed me against the wall," she revealed, burying her face in Lexa's neck. With her free hand, she dug her nails in Lexa's ass, feeling a thrill when Lexa bucked against her. "And then- I… I needed more. I needed you deeper."

"So I turned you around," Lexa guessed, squeezing her nipple over the fabric of her dress.

"I- oh, fuck, I couldn't stop thinking about you inside me; how well you'd fill me," Clarke said, her middle finger trembling from the angle, desperate to inch inside herself.

"Jesus, Clarke," Lexa breathed out in the space between her neck and shoulder. Her lips felt like heaven against her skin. Clarke couldn't get enough.

"Clarke," Lexa repeated, raising her head. "Look at me." It was softer then, more of a plea.

Clarke opened her eyes and felt her movements slow down. It was like experiencing déjà-vu, except of course that was impossible. They'd never done this. But she suddenly realized it had all started here. She'd had her vision on this very couch and here she was - not fulfilling it, exactly, but close. Yet what she'd seen and even felt had never been like this. It had been purely physical - an erotic thrill in her otherwise predictable life. But she hadn't felt her heart beating out of her chest. She'd had a sense it was more intimate than what she was used to, but hadn't been able to quite grasp what that meant. She knew now. Their intensity wasn't so much physical as it was emotional.

She felt safe with Lexa. They still had so much to learn about each other, but she felt safe. And Clarke had never realized the importance of it. Lexa had trusted her with her pain and her heart - that wasn't something Clarke took lightly. It was a feeling not even her vision could have conveyed.

"Fuck, wait, wait, stop," she abruptly panted, pulling her hand out of her underwear.

Lexa backed away immediately, but Clarke sat up to stop her from moving off the couch.

"Lexa, I… I want to be with you," she said, as if remembering her vision had suddenly clarified everything. "When you're ready, I want to be with you completely."

"I want that too." Lexa still seemed confused, or maybe surprised Clarke had done the equivalent of dunking ice cold water atop her own head.

“Right. And - this is fun. I-” Clarke’s eyes briefly closed as she bit her lip. “Fuck I really want to get off-”

Lexa smiled.

“-but not like this.” Clarke reached out to cup her cheeks. “Not without you.” She kissed Lexa briefly, barely a brush of lips, and watched as her eyes followed her every move so tenderly. “Not if I don’t get to touch you too.”

"Clarke…"

Clarke shook her head, kissing her way down Lexa's jaw and neck. "Not if I can't see all of you. Can't hear you moan my name." She licked over Lexa's pulse, enjoying the way her hips bucked against her. "Not if I can't taste you while you come undone."

Lexa pulled back and brushed away some of Clarke's wild strands of hair. "Such words… You should be a journalist."

"I hear they have egos."

"Oh yes, terrible."

"I'm glad I found one that's not so bad then."

They smiled at each other, then took a breath.

"Sorry," Clarke sighed. "I feel like I'm the one giving you whiplash now."

"No, it's only fair. If anything I admire your restraint."

Clarke leaned back against the arm of the couch. "Maybe you'll just have to work harder next time."

Lexa smirked. "I can do that." She glanced at her breasts. "At least I made new friends."

Clarke let out a laugh, enamored. "Alright, well, you and my tits can pick up this conversation another time. I need a shower and if you're not gone in two minutes, I'm definitely dragging you in with me."

Lexa hummed in agreement.

After Clarke walked her to the entrance and watched Lexa put on her shoes and jacket, they lingered in the doorway.

"Thank you for tonight," Clarke said. She had never felt like this before - a part of her desperate to find a way for Lexa to stay. A way to prolong the conversation. To ward off the night so that Lexa and her could just live in this moment a while longer. "The play, the food, this… Everything."

She hoped Lexa felt the same.

"Trust me, it was my pleasure," Lexa replied, her face still slightly flushed.

"You've set the bar high."

"You took me to a secret hike. I was just trying to catch up."

At Clarke's smile, Lexa bit her lip and toyed with the button of her jacket. "Anya used to say I reacted to everything with either fight or flight. I didn't prove her wrong when I left for Costial, but I don't want to run away again."

Clarke nodded in understanding.

“It just… creeps up on me sometimes,” Lexa continued. “I could be having the time of my life one second and the next my chest gets tighter and the world gets smaller. Suffocating.” She gave her a resolute look. “When I meant slow, I meant… I just need to be sure that feeling won’t come between us again." She glanced at her lips. "But… It also means that once we do cross that line, I intend to make up for lost time.”

Clarke swallowed, fighting the urge to drag Lexa back inside. "I'm a patient woman."

Lexa smiled. "Goodnight, Clarke."

"Mm. Text me when you get home?"

"I will."

-

[part eleven]

[elliethesuperfruitlover]

Sensual Soliloquies

A/N: This is the first time in a couple years that I’ve attempted writing any type of fanfiction, let alone smut. This is going to be extremely detailed as well, so try not to cream yourselves too early. I give the credit for the Klaus traveling in time shit to @badsext because of her Klaus x Nathan fic. Go read it, it’s quite lovely.

Warnings: smoking, detailed sexual actions, probably some cussing here or there, unprotected sex (wrap it up before you back it up), and threesome I guess if that counts

 “Klaus, where the fuck are we?” you ask him, confused to no end.

“Um, Berlin, Germany. Some time in the far future, and the apocalypse of 2019 either happened and didn’t fuck anything up, or just didn’t happen.”

  Klaus touched another fucking suitcase (he told you about the previous time, and the previous heartbreak) and somehow ended up transporting the both of you to Berlin. Everything around you is very neon, and drone-like machines fly by, carrying what seem to be food boxes. You two landed in an alleyway of what seemed to be a bigger building. There was an old fashioned looking car, and a concrete overhang type place. The “Only Employee” door gave off the vibe that you weren’t supposed to be there. Well, to be frank, you weren’t even supposed to be in that year.

“This place might be a strip club or a hooker joint.” Klaus points out, closing his eyes, deeply sighing.

“What makes you think that?” you ask, curious as to where he got that outlandish idea from. (Honestly it’s not the most outward idea he’s come up with since you’d met him.)

  He points to the window, where there seemed to be a naked robot with exaggerated female features dancing on a pole. Through the window, there’s also people, presumably strippers, dancing on tables, shaking ass, getting handed money. It turns you on just a bit, because something about cellulite being pushed against tight clothing got you going. That thought process, however, got pushed aside when a person walked through the employee door, outside. They were alone. The person looked somewhat like Klaus for some odd reason, mostly in the face region. Blonde hair swooped into a low-grade emo fringe, what looked like plastic covered their forehead, a kimono with tassels, and a deconstructed suit vest with tight pants.

“Oh fuck, hide.” Klaus whispered as quiet as possible, prompting the both of you to dive behind the old car.

“The suitcase!” you thought, about to reach out to get it, but the person was already swaying their way towards you two. They, however, didn’t seem to notice you two, as they lit what looked to be a cigarette, and took a deep inhale.

  The position that you find yourselves in proves to be quite compromising. Literally and figuratively. You were pushed up against Klaus’ groin area, as you couldn’t be choosers when about to be possible prosecuted. He groans lightly, trying to adjust you off of him, but that proves to be quite stupid as the person stops mid drag and calls out.

“Who’s there?” You have half of a mind to answer, but Klaus was just a tad drunk so he squeaked lightly.

“What the fuck?” they yell, looking to the source of the sound, only to find you and Klaus huddled together behind the car. The person seemed to have a slight accent, German, you suspect, and a higher pitch to their voice. Although that might be due to the fact that they were scared out of their fucking mind to find two people, one who looked like them behind a goddamn car.

  The two of you come out from behind the car, like two children caught trying to steal candy. Klaus tries to put his hands in front of his crotch, as his bulge hadn’t faded yet. You were already willing to formulate the truth instead of a lie, it was Germany for fucks sake, and you didn’t know if they went back to the old ways.

“Please explain to me who the fuck you two are, why the fuck you’re hiding behind a car that isn’t yours, and why you have your hands in front of your pants, hon?” he says, nodding his cigarette over to Klaus, who blushes at those words.

“We-” Klaus starts, but he was drunk, and you didn’t want to cause any confusion.

“We come from the past, and the suitcase you saw on the ground is how we got here. It allows you to go to a specific place and time, typically to kill another person. Klaus, here, um, grabbed one in his stupor and here we are, in front of you. Might I ask, what year is it?” you said in one breath, about to be prepared to start running if this person had a hidden glock.

“It’s 2037 love. For starters, my name is Luba, I work at this strip joint here and as an escort, uh. Sorry, I’m just a little baffled, understandably. You know what, my shift ends in like 5 minutes, and my boss won’t mind if I leave early. How about I order some food for all of us because I can’t cook for shit, and we’ll talk over at my place. It doesn’t seem like you two planned anything ,so I’ll care for you two ‘til then.” he offers, looking at us with curiosity.

“That sounds good, but before that, could I please get a drag of that, might as well cross-fade in fucking Berlin. Maybe we’ll get Amsterdam next time.” Klaus asks, looking for approval.

  Luba obliges, and the two of them make shared eye contact, and hand contact, which ends up being lingering. Oh, the thoughts running through your head at that moment in time. Naughty, very naughty indeed. You just meet Luba though, and he might not even be into chicks. He goes back inside, and tells the two of you to meet him up front, and you travel there, and he shows up exactly when the two of you were about to dip out.

“Come on, my place is just a walk from here, it shouldn’t tire the two of you out too much.” he says, starting to walk in a direction. You two follow him, hungry, cold, and of course horny. 

  The moment you two arrive at Luba’s apartment, the feeling of hippy isn’t uncommon. There were tapestries on the walls, and potted plants decorated the shelves. There was even an old fashioned bong sitting on the table, and it looked clean for the most part. It seemed like a very cozy place, and the serenity was only bound to end. The two of you lurked around very lightly, taking in the fact that the Nazis didn’t find you. Luba presumably went to his room to set his kimono and keys down, then he came in, only to find you and Klaus wandering around his living room, trying to figure out the vintage things from the modern ones.

“Hey, um, what do you too want for dinner? We can talk over it, and it doesn't take too long to order since everything is air-delivered,” he said, in which Klaus mumbled whatever’s fine, and you nodded along. “Chinese it is,”Luba says, typing into a little machine, and opening his living room window for the bot to come through.

    The food couldn’t come soon enough because Klaus started to sweat and get the shakes, a clear symptom of his withdrawals. They’d been getting a little better, but ever since the cult fucked him over, he’d been drinking again. Plus, the 60’s were like the haven for every drug in existence. Klaus wanted to make sure he got the freshest Mary Jane whenever possible. You, on the other hand, tended to stay away from drugs, only drinking every now and then, and smoking weed only when you felt like it. It wasn’t a constant feeling, but sometimes it was stronger than others. All three of you made your ways to the kitchen, and looked out of the window until the bot announced itself, and dropped the food off on the coffee table with the bong on it.

“Thank god! Food’s here. Limes and cherries from cocktails only go so far y’know. And those peanuts, ugh, they’re stale and taste like sweat.” Luba says, ripping the box open on the kitchen island. The box contained what looked like non-cardboard containers filled with soup dumplings, lo mein noodles, a very small order of broccoli, crab rangoon, and a fuck garlic chicken. Luba pulled out a bottle of wine and some water in glasses.

  The lot of you dug in quickly, as you and Klaus hadn’t eaten in a good 8 hours, and Luba had only eaten a small breakfast that morning. Between bites, you and Klaus explained how you two got in Germany, and your lives before that. He mentioned the Umbrella Academy and his siblings, even mentioning their powers. He was truly comfortable around Luba, he didn’t even mention his siblings when he first met you. They both even mentioned the fact that they look very similar, even though they’re years apart. The meal was stretching to a close, but Luba asked a very compromising question.

“What about the two of you, huh? I’ve been trying to figure out, with the small amount of time that I’ve known you two. Are you two friends or fuck buddies, hmm?” he asks, a sly smirk on his face as he sultrily wipes his mouth, and sets his napkin on his plate, steepling his hands under his chin. These words caused a blush to dust across the both of your cheeks, and out of the corner of your eye, you see Klaus adjusting his bulge as well as he could.

“We’re lovers, but started off as friends.” you answered, leaning forward, letting your cleavage become slightly visible. Sticking your ass out just enough to get Klaus riled up from beside you.

  Luba nods in acknowledgement, then also adjusts himself from what you can see. You all put your plates away, making quick work of rinsing them, then placing them in the deep sink. Luba moves to the living room, sitting on his couch and spreading his legs just enough to make his bulge visible in those oh-so tight pants. You both sit on the side of him, trying to edge those naughty thoughts from your heads.

“So, are we gonna fuck or what?” Luba asks casually, looking between the two of you, glancing at your lips and Klaus’ little problem.

“Yeah, why not. When in Berlin, I guess.” you say, leaning across to catch Luba’s lips with your own, catching his braided hair with your hand. His lips are surprisingly soft, and his tongue fights for dominance with your own, slowly becoming more of a stalemate, settling for pleasure.

   You move into Luba’s lap, softly grinding against him to take the edge off of the simmering pleasure in your lower abdomen. Klaus turns the two of you lightly, only so he could catch Luba’s neck, gently kissing and nibbling it, leaving red marks in his wake. He licks the prominent carotid vein in his neck, biting it to draw a high moan out of Luba, causing him to draw away from the kiss to dust your neck with kisses, stopping at your collarbone to bite there, and to continue to grind against you, and Klaus pushes up against the blonde haired individual, trying to rub his dick slowly against the rough material of Luba’s vest.

“We should move somewhere more….accomodating for three people, some would say.” Klaus says, breathing lightly on Luba’s neck, licking along the length of his earlobe. You shudder at the ending of your session, but oblige, knowing that Klaus could get a little squirmy when he was being pleasured substantially.

  The bedroom is somewhat different from the couch..or should I say love seat. You sit on the bed making out with Luba, but Klaus is sitting on the edge of the bed, sneaking a hand behind his navy blue bell bottoms, and slowly rubbing himself to get that constant source of endorphins moving. You moan lightly at the sensation of Luba rubbing himself against you, giving you just the lightest of clitoral stimulation. Wet smacks fill the air as you move down Luba’s form, biting at his smooth chest, and he moans beautifully next to your ear, giving it a nice bite to punctuate his gyrations against your pelvis. He pulls away from you just long enough to catch Klaus about to cum, only to stop him in his tracks.

“Don’t you fucking dare, I haven’t even sucked you off yet.” Luba says, making his way over to him.

  Klaus sheepishly stands up with his prominent boner not being even close to hidden in those pants of his. You take your pants off on the bed, along with your shirt, and slip a hand into your panties, getting ready to enjoy what was about to be placed in front of you. Luba lands a kiss on Klaus’ lips, gropes his ass once, then kisses the loathed bulge put before him. He pulls Klaus' pants down, just so he can see his project, then gets to work. Luba takes Klaus’ cock entirely, balls in all and moans around the length, Klaus replying in earnest. He pops off of Klaus’ balls, focusing on the head of his dick. He gives little kitten licks to the tip, making prolonged eye contact with Klaus. He takes him inch by inch, savoring every little bit of his dick that he could get his plump lips on. You also saw Luba’s tongue making work of the vein showing on the underside of Klaus’ dick.

   Luba reached his hands around and groped Klaus’ ass, kneading it between his hands, paying special attention to it. All while looking at Klaus with the biggest, brightest doe eyes the world did see. His emerald pierced the identical ones Klaus owned, sending him into a fit of moans and whimpers. He starts bobbing his head around the length, hollowing his cheeks to get that perfect feeling Klaus wanted deeply. He pulled off with a delicious pop , Klaus giving one last perfect moan from his lips. You’d been touching yourself heavily, not yet letting the slick fingers fully penetrate your hole. Just barely getting there. Luba strips himself clean, leaving his dick standing proudly against his flat stomach, small beads of precum falling from the tip, slowly making their way down to the base of his dick. Klaus also strips himself, moving over to where you were sitting on the bed, catching your lips between his own, then making quick work of your bra and panties.

  He catches each nipple between his mouth, suckling lightly on the buds. Luba also joins in on the fun, and starts slowly fingering Klaus’ asshole, drawing a low moan out of his busy lips. Klaus draws himself away from you, just long enough to also draw Luba away, who drags you on top of him. Klaus takes his spot behind you, jacking himself off lightly. You don’t know where this is heading, but it looks like it’s about to be beautifully seductive and erotic. Apparently condoms didn’t exist in the future, but that was the least of your worries. Luba sat patiently, waiting for you to slip onto his cock, hands ready to catch you if you fall.

  You slowly climbed onto Luba’s cock, stretching yourself deliciously, drawing a surprisingly strong moan from yourself. Luba’s dick is just about the same as Klaus’. It’s thicker than it is long, and light stubble covers his pelvic area. It’s not much pain, but lots of pleasure for you. Luba closed his eyes in pleasure, and lets out a loud grunt, putting his hands on your hips, grasping onto you. You slowly start to move on his length, moving up and down very slowly, then very quickly, as you’re used to Klaus being rough with you, and that’s what you took best.

And apparently so does Luba.

   He moans and yells underneath you, moving his hips up to meet yours at every interval you move. Your breasts bounce wonderfully to each movement, and whenever Luba opens his eyes, it’s all he can see. Every now and then, his eyes go to Klaus, who attacks your neck and jerks himself off to your pace with his near lookalike. As well as that, Luba likes to look at where your pussy and his dick meet, being the source of this delicious pleasure. Things start to get a little calm, but Klaus gets a very, very naughty idea. He leans into your ear and fucking dirty talks you while you’re riding Luba into the goddamned sunset.

“Fuck yeah, you like riding that cock huh? Oh, such a dirty fucking girl, getting me all riled up. Yeah, clench that sweet pussy of yours around his fucking cock. Feeling it reach deep into your fucking love tunnel, banging up against your womb. Such a fucking slut. You know you want that cum painting your insides.” he says into your ear, humping a pillow from Luba’s bed. He moans in deep pleasure, grunting and whimpering at the noises you make. Klaus reaches forward to grope your tits, harshly squeezing them so that you can feel each finger rubbing against that skin.

  Luba hears what’s going on, and it only brings him closer to his own orgasm. He moans louder now, confident in his ability to pleasure you. Him speeding up his own thrusts makes you clench your wet pussy around him, squeezing with all the might in your being. Klaus also speeds up his humping, and his words get dirtier and hornier. 

“Yeah, make him cum hard, just like you milk me whenever you can. He’ll be saying your name like a mantra when you’re done with him. Oh, good girl, riding him like a fucking champ. Don;t you feel him getting closer and closer while his dick gets harder, yeah? Want him to pump your fucking womb full of cum, yeah? Make you want more.” he says, reaching his own peak, moaning sensually in your ear as he releases onto his stomach and your back.

That action may have given you the best orgasm in the history of your sex life.

  You moan loudly and clench the hardest you’ve ever done so, sparking you to squirt messily all over Luba’s stomach. He cums after you, pumping you full of his cum. He covered his face when he came, and he moaned into oblivion. The three of you slowly recover from your orgasms, very slowly. Luba went to go fetch a wet washcloth, but not after kissing the both of you on the lips. You recover the slowest, and Klaus rubs your back as the aftershocks start rolling in. Luba cleans you up, and places his pillowcase in the wash. He also changes his sheets, but not after handing you a morning after pill, because in the early conversation over dinner that seemed so far away, you mentioned that you’d wanted kids much later in life.

  You three sleep soundly, cuddled up against each other for warmth. You feel like you’re on Cloud 9 with that day and it’d only go downhill from there.

Masterlist

[otakuneko-lotus]

Sushi fun!!

I'm going to do my own Sushi story that @roninhunt0987 did. Yet I have to be honest that there was hardly ANY SUSHI EATING!!! And I'm bumped and Suzuki is pissed so. I'm making my version where there is actually sushi eating. Sorry dude your storys are usually on point but this time it was a miss. I know you were tired.

Gen’ichi and his family were having a nice lovely evening. Ninjara was getting ready to start making dinner while gen was keeping the kids in the living room. (since they didn't want the kids to get hurt in the kitchen when dinner was being made)

Ninjara: *walks into the living room tying her apron* ok everyone I’m about to start what should I make for mom dinner night?

The kids were getting all excited because they were HUNGRY!!!!! Gen'ichi and Ninjara had 8 kids. Septuplets and one little baby. Ran, Rei, Reiko, Rika, Miwa, Nori, Gen'ichi jr and Lil Geni. They began to say what they wanted

Ran: Burgers!!!

Rei and Reiko: Pasta!

Miwa: mac and cheese

lil Geni:....ham

SUSHI!!!

Everyone paused...

Gen'ichi: who screamed sushi?

All of a sudden, there aunt Suzuki bust down the door and made a very heroic post!

Suzuki: I said Sushi!!

Kids: Auntie Suzuki *They all run to her as there dear mother looked in horror*

Ninjara: My front door!!! 

All 8 of the kids fox piled there Auntie Suzuki pushing her to the ground all laughing.

Suzuki: hehehehe ok ok you little nuggets your got your auntie Suzuki *she said as she was getting up from the floor*

Gen’ichi: Hey sis, why you yelled Sushi?

Ninjara: And why did you break down my door?!

Suzuki: Oh good questions, and let me answer with “Who wants sushi for dinner!?”

Kids: sushi!

Gen’ichi and Ninjara: sushi?

Suzuki: Yes, I know this great sushi belt restaurant and I am taking you all for some sushi tonight!!

Kids: Yay, Sushi sushi sushi!! *all the kids began to cheer*

Gen’ichi: well that's very nice of you sis. But why sushi? You never really this excited for Sushi?

Suzuki: what? Can I just invite my favorite brother and his lovely family to dinner? I’m hurt bro I am so hurt! *Suzuki was being a bit dramatic*

Gen’ichi and Ninjara: *raised there eyebrows*

Suzuki: ok ok This Sushi place if you eat more you get more chances to win a prize, last time I went there alone I ate 40 plates of sushi and won twice and the prizes were the same a tiny sushi keychain but i wanted to see what other prizes they have...you know me bro....I have a weakness for prize games.

Gen’ichi: there that wasn’t so hard huh Suzuki.

Ninjara: well sushi those sound nice, and I know if you want to go back the food has to be good.

Suzuki: Sooooo?

Gen'ichi: kids get your shoes on we are going out tonight!

The kids cheer and began running all over the house each one trying to find and get there shoes. After finally getting there shoes on the family fallows Suzuki to “Tai’s Sushi” a restaurant that appeared several months ago. As they walk in they are meet with the host who took them to a LARGE booth where Mikey and Raph were there.

Gen’ichi: Mikey? Raph? What are you guys doing here?

Mikey: Sis invite us to this sushi party!

Raph: Yeah, sorry sis dad, Leo< and Donnie could not make it.

Gen’ichi and Ninjara look at Suzuki was a glare and Suzuki just shrug. She though she could get a bit more help. Wow Suzuki you are crazy for prizes. Everyone has a seat and GJ looked confused.

GJ: were are the menus?

Suzuki: oh its here this pad *Suzuki points to the pad which she was right next too* here you can order specials order but if you don't want that you can grab anything from the belt see all the food.

Since Suzuki finally mentioned it everyone notice a conveyer belt full of sushi  they even notice a screen above the belt where the game was and above that was the prize box.

(closest pic I can find but with booths)

Suzuki: Any way the more you eat the more chances you get at winning but it not easy they make it a lucky draw. So its mostly lucky. So is everyone ready to try this place?

Everyone: yes!

Suzuki grabbed the pad and order some simple type of sushi for the kids. Like tuna, salmon, cucumber rolls and crab sushi too. After the special order arrive Suzuki began to take plates of the belt and placing them on the table. There must have been one plate for every kind of sushi at that table. Everyone began to chow down.

Geni: *see some werid green paste* what's this?

Ninjara: oh that is wasabi honey. It's a spicy paste you put on sushi. *puts a piece of Uramaki in her mouth*

Before anyone can react Geni puts the whole blob of it in her mouth.

Gen'ichi: Ahhh sweetie!!!

Suzuki: oh furball no!!

Geni: what....? *feels no pain*

Everyone: huh?

Suzuki: wait, Geni your not crying from the spice?

Geni: no, it those not taste anything to me

Mikey: really? Maybe wasabi is not so spicy *pics up a picese of wasabi*

Raph: Mikey-

Suzuki: No!

Mikey stick the whole piece in his mouth and that moment he knew....he ...fucked up! Mikey began screaming from the pain and began to run all over the restaurant, people were videotaping Mikey making a ass of himself.

Suzuki: *makes a cup of green tea* Mikey!! Drink this!!!

Mikey gets the cup and gulps it down in a sec. It taste bad to him but it stopped the pain. Mikey was on the floor pants from running and from the pain. The kids all laugh and Suzuki speaks up.

Suzuki: dont become your uncle mikey kids.

Mikey: Hey!!

After the excitement they all got a good stack of plates and were ready to see if they will win.

Suzuki: ok 5 plates for each try

GJ: can I try frist

Ninjara: of course sweetie all you kids will get a turn.

GJ moved his seat and sat on his dad lap so he could reach. He put the 5 plates in the machine and a little cartoon appeared on the screen under the prize machine. The cartoon says....loser.

GJ: awww

Mikey: sorry little dude

Raph: it is a game of luck.

Suzuki: it's ok bud *runs GJ's head*

Rei: Me next me next!!

Rei had a go...lost

Rei: dang it!

Gen'ichi: it's ok sweetie we have more plates

Soon it was Reiko...lost....Ran....lost....Miwa...lost.

Ninjara: I'm starting to think this is rigged.

Geni: My twurn *push the plates in and won!?*

Kids: huh!?

Geni: yay!!!!

Suzuki: good job furball you won.

Geni won a cutie little kid bracelet from the prize box it fit her wrist with little plastic charms on it.

Geni: hehehehe

After seeing the prize there little siblings got the septuplets were determined to get some prizes too. After doing the game more of the game Nori got a prize. It was a keychain of a ramen bowl it looked every cute.

Gj: we need more plates!!

Ninjara: arent you kids full?

Ran: No mama

Rei: we

Reiko: want

Rika: to

Miwa: win!

Gen'ichi: I guess we need more sushi *took some sushi off the belt*

After about 30 mintues of more eating...from what Suzuki can tell they have been there for over and hour and won twice. They got more plates from the kids eatting every sushi that lands on the table. Gen'ichi worst fear....Suzuki was teaching his kids her guilty pleasure.

After so many games each child finally got a prize. How much sushi did they eat...over 200 plates and won 9 prizes. Suzuki of course got one. Everyone walked out of the restaurant super full.

Raph: I never want to see a tuna roll again...

Mikey: *covers mouth because he felt like her was going to barf*

Ninjara: ok kids let's go home *she said as she holds some of the kids*

Geni: Auntie Suzuki?

Suzuki: yes honey?

Geni: can we come back here again?

Suzuki: *smiles*yes

Gen'ichi and Ninjara: NOOOO *both scream*

The End

Bonus

Mikey: *bards in some bushes while raph pats his back*

Raph: let it all out bro

Mikey: Bleeeeeeeeeeeegggggggggghhhhhhhh

@roninhunt0987 here you go dude

[mountainleafuniversity]

Undertow pt 2

(Artwork by @warrior-kitty special thanks to @gemellath

(This story is rated PG-13 for content. You have been warned)

Kit drove to Coin’s house that morning and picked up the jackelope chugging a bottle of water.

“Man, it’s hot!” he shouted.

“Hop in!” she told him. “Today is going to be crowded and you know it.”

Both of them knew that the beach would be crowded that day, but Kit was running late after not being able to find important things such as the umbrella, chairs, and sunscreen. Now that it was already late morning, they knew it was going to be hell to find just one parking spot but were unprepared for a bigger problem on their hands.

“Hey Kit” Coin said nervously. “Umm…I need to use the bathroom…”

“Hold on we’ll get a spo-“

Kit was cut off when she saw that the line for beach parking was a mile away from the beach.

“Oh no…Try to hold it in.”

However, they reached a parking lot and saw it was completely full.

“Alright then, let’s go to the other one…” Kit sheepishly stated.

“Man I gotta go like…badly…”

However, each and every lot was stuffed to the brim, and with each passing moment, Coin’s bladder was getting fuller and fuller until Coin was in excruciating pain with no end in sight with the traffic getting larger and slower. After the tenth parking lot, Coin was screaming and ran out of car.

“Go in the palm bushes!” Screamed Kit, panicking.

“There are families everywhere!” the jackelope barked back. However, a sign pointed to the beach bar they usually went to, prompting Coin to speed walk across the costal parkway with the honking cars blaring their horns. He tried to walk faster but was moaning in such pain he couldn’t even run without feeling the sharp pain on his bladder.

Roxie, meanwhile, was eating a bag of chips during her “bathroom break”. She had just dealt with cleaning up after a horrible rescue when she heard someone enter the men’s room in a rush. After a while the person did his business, washed his hands then sneezed.

“Crap! Forgot there’s pollen everywhere!”

The dispenser was out of paper towels, so he tried to enter the stall. Roxie in shock dropped the chips onto the ground.

“Oh, come on! Who eats chips in the bathroom?! And why in the men’s room of all places?”

“No one expects me to be here.”

“Hey wait a minute! GET OUT HERE!”

Roxie feared it was her boss, so she stepped outside, only to see her bandmate.

“Roxie…again?”

“I got hungry.”

“Its 11:30 you can wait. Plus, tomorrow is your day off to celebrate so don’t blow it.”

Coin guided Roxie back to the lifeguard chair where Harry was sitting.

“Oh thank God. It was much shorter…” he happily sighed.

“Hi Harry! How’s work today?”

“For me it’s fine. Roxie however just had a shitty rescue, which is why she was allowed on a break…”

Coin was puzzled. “What happened?”

Roxie closed her eyes.

“Another man was attacked by some octopi thingies and nearly drowned because they tried to force this seaweed into his mouth underwater. He projectile vomited all over me, so my boss made me take a shower…with a hose…on jet setting…”

“We’ve been seeing a string of these lately and the Dolphin Division of the police department is on strong patrol right now, so try to stay safe.”

Coin set his towel and chair down, texting Kit to meet him by the bar. After a long half hour, Kit finally showed up.

“Hey Coin!” Kit said from nearby “I found a spot by paying this guy money!”

“That’s great!” Coin shouted as he went over. “Want me to help you set up?”

After taking another half hour of bickering and arguing the umbrella was properly set up. They had put on sunscreen, and laid down their beach towels, so now both of them were basking on the beach immersed in their sunny naps. Nearby a small disturbance in the sand was kicking it all up and creating a path. It scurried under Coin’s stomach, shaking him awake by the disturbance. He looked around but couldn’t see a thing.

“Hey Kit…”

“Yea?”

“You feel that?”

“No. Probably a crab.”

However, Kit felt something try to jump up from under her back. She lifted her towel to see nothing was oddly there.

Behind the cooler a certain little mouse in a red prison outfit popped out of the sand. Rio climbed into the cooler and grabbed some ice cubes with a devious smirk on her face. She walked over to Coin, opened up his trunks, dumped the ice down, and watched him freak out.

“Whats going on here?” an annoyed Kit said to Coin.

Soon she also felt something pull on her suit, and ice was poured down her back. Bystanders looked to see who in the world were these two dancing clowns.

“Who did this?” Coin demanded.

“You thought it was ice, but it WAS ME! RIO!” Rio shouted jumping onto her perch.

“RIO?!” Coin shouted. “You busted out of prison?!”

“You’re not going to report me, are you?”

“No” Kit said, a bit disappointed in her. “But you’ll need to get out of that prisoner outfit. Hide in our bag and stay in there until we get back.”

“Hey guys!” D’Arcy greeted. “What can I get you two?”

“Hello D’Arcy!” Coin replied. “You are doing okay?”

“Other than going through the trauma of that e-mail sent to me…I guess I’m fine.”

“We’d like mouse-sizes for a t-shirt, shorts and swimsuit for Rio please.” Kit ordered.

“Didn’t she get arrested?” D’Arcy asked confused.

“Yea but it’s a gift for her anyway.”

“Oh ok.”

They paid and collected their bag of tiny clothing, with the jersey devil looking nervously at another clothing stand.

“Why does she keep vanishing...?”

“Who?” Coin questioned.

“Jill...” D’Arcy murmured. “She was a classmate at fashion school. Typical brainless spoiled brat if you ask me. She’s a sea serpent who almost got me expelled many times and always got away with it. She works the stand over there.”

“Is she someone we should worry about?” Coin said. “Maybe she sent the threat.

“Probably not, but she’s been going back and forth quite a lot through that pop-up store… anyways, I’ll see you two later, we’re holding up the line a bit…”

Now Linneaus was complete again and relaxing on the shore, sunbathing and enjoying the environment. However, that was all about to change, when Coin and Rio heard lovely sounding voices and giggling. They shook themselves up to see an elk jackelope wearing a mustard bikini standing above them.

“Hey there…” the jackelope girl said. “My name is Penny…”

Coin was so transfixed on her body, especially her blue eyes, that his eyes turned to hearts and with his antlers turning pink as well.

“Man, what a woman…” he said to himself. “I’m…Coin…”

“LOL SO COOL! And who is your mousy friend?” Penny teased. “I have one too~…”

Crawling from up her back, a fit and strong harvest mouse in purple trunks climbed up the antlers.

“You summoned dearest Rhine?!” he declared.

Rio was immediately smitten with feelings for him and his beautiful build with her face turning a bright shade of pink.

“Rio here!” she said. “It’s…a pleasure…”

Kit looked over and wondered why they were so instantly crushed. She brushed it off and turned on her music before taking a nap.

“We were wondering if you two would like to play volley ball with us…” Penny declared. “Mice vs Jackelopes?”

“S-Sure…”

“Hell Yeah!” Rhine shouted.

“Good…good…” a voice whispered from under the sea. “Bring them to me my creations…”

Meanwhile Kit felt her stomach rumble. Not paying attention to her friends, she opened the cooler and obtained her calzone. She heated it up using the sunlight and decided to sunbathe while she ate her lunch.

Her friends could barely contain themselves playing volleyball with the shady but sexy duo. Harry could only watch in sadness towards Coin as he and Rio couldn’t even play the game properly they were so unfocused.

“Hey Harold.” Roxie blurted. “Why are you staring so hard at Coin? He’s in love…”

“It’s just that it seems hopeless…He and his mouse friend just won’t look away from them.”

“Oh?! Like I didn’t catch you thirsty for D’Arcy’s ass again today!” Roxie exclaimed.

“She doesn’t tease me!” Harry yelled. “I go crazy for D’Arcy because I actually fucking like her no matter what!”

“Glad to hear you admit it…

“But look at Coin and that broad he’s with!” he pointed. He watched Penny shake her tail at Coin, then saw Rhine flex for Rio, both of them absolutely paralyzed by their feeling “They’re baiting them with looks! First off, I’ve been with women that do this, and second, it’s our job to stop what could be potential sirens! With the attacks going on I can’t risk losing anyone!”

“You really think that those two are sirens?!” Roxie said. “Lookie here, just because you can’t have a girlfriend or boyfriend doesn’t mean you have to tear others down…”

Harry wondered if Roxie was right, and both took their positions without saying another word.

Rio hit the ball and got spiked by Penny in the face, knocking her down.

“Winner!” she yelled, hugging a shocked Coin, surprised he won but also scared for Rio.

“Shouldn’t we check on-?”

“I think she’s fine…Rhine is looking after her!”

<<Oh, mon petite fleur!>> Rhine ran over. “Are you alright?”

“Yeah…I’m good.”

“See she’s fine!” Penny said.

“You know…I like you…”

Coin blushed. “Same here.”

“You and I will be boyfriend and girlfriend forever…”

They both pulled closer together until they shared a kiss, but suddenly Coin’s mouth was stuck to her’s, and seaweed was pouring into his mouth.

Rio, seeing Coin struggling, kicked Rhine, revealing himself to be a siren along with Penny. The siren kissing Coin let go and wrapped its tentacles around him. Rio ran towards the beach patrol screaming. Roxie sounded the alarm to get everyone away from the area as Harry ran over and tried to wrestle Coin free, only for the siren to toss him into a sandcastle as the beachgoers quickly ran out of the way. The dolphin P.D quickly swam close to the shore in order to wall the sirens off. The one pretending to be Rhine was caught trying to escape.

“This is lovely…” Kit said, eating her calzone, unaware of the chaos around her.

D’Arcy was just taking a photo with a fan when it happened. She swooped over until she found Roxie and Harry.

“What’s going on?!” she screamed.

“Coin’s being taken by a siren!” Harry screamed.

D’Arcy saw it swimming and trying to bring the struggling jackelope deep into the ocean. She flew over, kicking the temptress with her hooves.

The siren responded with using Coin as a weapon, trying to jab his antlers into her skin, but failed since she was impervious to pain.

“Sorry Coin!” she said before stomping his face.

“You aight…”

Now the dragon goat’s eyes gleamed red with rage, inflicting a curse on the siren. She summoned up her fire breath and torched the creature. Now distracted, D’Arcy dove in and tried to pull her friend to safety, but she wasn’t expecting the creature to splash water, blinding her. The siren threw Coin over the line of dolphins, who breached in an attempt to catch him. However, a serpent circled up from under them and caught the rabbit deer.

“Hey D’Arcy!” Jill screamed. “Remember me?!”

“Unhand him! NOW!”

“Love to talk D’Arcy, but I gotta work!”

The police dove down to catch the serpent but were unprepared for the brigade of sea creatures blocking them and sacrificing arrest. They could only watch as the poor jackelope was taken away.

“We want all fishing boats on alert!” the dolphin captain said. “Scuba divers, scientists, anyone! Suspect is a sea serpent with blue hair, nose ring, Che Guevara shirt…”

After the commotion had died down, Kit was still sleeping with sauce stains on her suit and fur, with the half-eaten calzone on her side. Her earbuds were ripped off and a large hooved slap woke her up.

“Hungh?” she groaned.

Roxie was standing above her with a stern look of anger.

“Coin was kidnapped by a sea serpent and you slept through it!” the rougarou yelled, eating Kit’s calzone.

“What?” Kit asked confused.

D’Arcy swooped down, red eyes glaring.

“He was taken to the bottom of the ocean…I should curse you, you ignorant vulpine!”

Kit’s guilt transformed her into Granny as she pondered what to do next...

“Can-can’t we go down there and save him?”

“We’d have to come up with a plan.” D’Arcy replied.

“I’ll see if we can get our set moved to tomorrow.” Harry interrupted.

“But Coin!” the snail-fox yelled. “He’s in danger.”

“Don’t worry about it.” D’Arcy comforted. Tomorrow morning, me and the girls are going to try and save him. The sun is starting to set so it’s probably best if we just go home for now.”

Even after being back to normal Kit still felt upset lying in bed. She knew that if anything else happened, she would have to do something to save her friend. She just didn’t know what to do.

[smugzayn]

Crabs (The Steamed Kind)

You kind of know Niall’s new friend, Harry. He’s okay, maybe even cute, but then he insults you at Niall’s party, follows you home, and wants to give you crabs (the steamed kind).

You slammed the door of your apartment, listened to the windows rattle, and bent over to tear off your heels and hurl them across the room. You weren’t the chill, and laid-back one who could put things into perspective easily. You were reactive, and a flash of lighting that took hours to boil and cool. Even then, once someone reopened the lid, they would still find you simmering.

The drive home hadn’t helped. You drove too fast, honked at someone that you definitely cut off, and rolled all your windows down to feel the air rip angrily through your hair.

You threw your bag on the sofa, zipped your dress off onto the floor, and tied your hair up atop your head.

Cocky, hard-headed, arrogant man. You felt the anger roll off your body at just the thought of him. What had made you think you could get along with him? Or even befriend him? What had even led you to the desire to do so?

When you heard a knock on the door, you gritted your teeth and tried to rid the scowl from your face. You expected your nosey neighbor, Linda, to be standing there wondering about all the commotion.

You were more in the mood for murder than friendly gossip.

The knock came again, more forceful, and louder, and decidedly less-Linda-ish.

“Come on, babe. Open the fuckin’ door!”

Now you could only stare as anger and shock made your head buzz. Harry had followed you home? He had the gall to hop on his bike, tail your car, and come all the way to your door and expect to be let in - and quickly, at that!

Knowing Harry, he probably thought you’d just rip off all your clothes, throw them to the floor, and whip open the door in a sexual frenzy. As if you were just waiting for him to knock, all consumed with lust, and you’d jump him and have passionate sex in the entryway. Well, you were about to show Harry exactly what you thought of him.

You strode to the door and yanked it open. “You’re a cocky son of a bitch.”

Harry’s eyes looked you up and down, your flushed and furious face, the messy hair falling from its spot atop your head, and your eyes burning angrily, and he licked his lips in anticipation. It was so wrong to be turned on by someone so angry, but he was undoubtedly feeling a hungry warmth warming his core.

He was going to tell you just that; then he managed to push his gaze beyond your heaving breast to see your clenched fist hanging by your side. He thought the situation might need some deescalation. 

“Go ahead,” he invited, pushing past you to plop down on your sofa. “You can pop me, but I promise s’only going to make me want you more.” He held up his hands innocently as he sunk in to the cushions. “I know, I know - it’s perverse, but I can’t help it. It’s part of m’charm.”

“Charm my ass.”

You made a low, threatening sound in your throat as you slammed the door shut again (Linda would definitely be over now) and stormed over to pull him forcibly off your sofa. He was quick enough to wrap a ready hand around your wrist and strong enough to hold it frozen in place.

“Just wanted t’make sure ya made it home all right,” he began as you tried to shake your arm from his grip. “I know you were upset when ya left Niall’s and, since I was in the neighborhood, thought I should just come up -”

“And trespass into my house?”

“And say Hello.”

You finally managed to pull your hand out of his grip.

You stared at him angrily as he sat in front of you perfectly unbothered, even amused, with the situation. He had been around one too many submissive women. 

“Okay, Hi.” you said flatly, motioning towards the door. “Now I want you to go away. Very far away. In fact, I want you to go all the way to a cliff and then drive off it.”

“I definitely get that. Really,” he smirked and god it was infuriating,” but before I take that trip, I’m just going t’take like five minutes of your time.”

“Harry, I gave you more than enough of my time at Niall’s.”

“So, what’s a few more minutes, then, right?” As if that settled the matter, he picked up the remote and turned on the TV before you had a chance to rip it out of his hands and toss it somewhere across the room. His eyes sparkled with joy at your irritation. He was infuriating.

“If it wasn’t for you being Niall’s friend, I’d call the cops right night and have you arrested.”

Harry nodded. He loves furious women, so he’s certainly learned how to deal with them over the years. He just hoped this particularly one followed the same rule book. “Yeah, and I get that, babe, but listen -”

“I am not listening to you.” Using the heel of your foot, you smashed down on his toes and wished that Gucci Italian letter was a little more pliable. “You’re a brute, and arrogant, and you think I should just like love you because you look like some -”

“I mean you’re not wrong,” he countered, and then grabbed your wrist again to pull you down to the spot next to him. “But just listen.”

“Every damn thing about you irritates me. You just like play at being this hotshot womanizing rockstar, and think you know what’s best for me, and you haven’t even known me for like - what - a month?”

“I was not playin’ at being a hotshot womanizing rockstar. My career is being a hotshot womanizing rockstar!” He argued, his rulebook to placating angry women being thrown out the window. You’re different. “And I am a fucking good one. And I do know what’s best fo’ you.”

“I am none of your concern.”

“Yes, but you see, I am makin’ you my concern.” He had worked out just what he was going to say on the way over. He was determined to convince you to give him a shot. “You’re my concern. And I’m concerned, like I tried to tell you at Niall’s, you’re way too wound up and tightly strung.”

“You told me I needed a good fuck.”

“Well,” he ran a hand through his hair and turned slightly so he could look at you. “I’m not always the best with words.”

“You write songs for a living.”

Harry laughed, a loud, barking laugh that rumbled in his chest and was so contagious that you had to look away to hide your own amusement.

“Okay, yeah,” he conceded. “It wasn’t anything personal.”

He was unbelievable. 

“Of course not. Why would it be? I don’t like rude, arrogant men. That’s nothing personal, either. Now, are you leaving or not?”

He brushed a hand across the stubble on his jaw and seemed to be re-evaluating his strategy. 

“Or not. How do you feel about crabs?”

“Ah…what?”

“Let me rephrase that.” Harry smirked. “Like I said, not always the best with words. How do y’feel about eating steamed crabs?”

You raised an eyebrow, watching as he threw his hand behind you on the sofa, very close to wrapping around you. You shifted just slightly, but his weight in the cushion made you fall into his side. 

“I’m not sure.”

“Perfect. How about tomorrow night?”

“Harry -”

“Here, “ he added quickly. “At your apartment. I will come by, in y’safe space with all your neighbors, and I will cook you crab. You can see just how kind, and funny, and charmin’ I can be.”

You really weren’t sure. He was one of Niall’s best friends, and he had been entirely pleasant the month since you had met him, but his reputation was horrible, and he had told you you needed a fuck.

“I don’t know-”

“Half six, then,” he confirmed, clapping you jovially on the shoulder. “Where do you usually eat?” He looked around for your dinner table and found it covered with a mountain of paperwork and work projects.

“Typically, on the couch, in front of the telly, late. Why?”

“Jus’ wondering,” he shrugged and you readjusted yourself so you could be some space between you two. “I’ve been wondering about you on and off all day. So, let me come here tomorrow and cook dinner for you.”

He studied your skepticism and added, “Or, we could go into the city. I could pick you up at six, we could stop, climb into the backseat, there’s not much cushionin’, but, I know you take yoga, so we could probably manage -”

“Dinner here is fine,” you interrupted, pulling him up from the sofa, and using two hands on his back to maneuver his reluctant frame towards the door. 

“I’m going to get my hands on you,” he purred, using his weight to slow down your efforts.

You rolled your eyes, trying to hide your own arousal.

“I don’t doubt that,” you blushed, “but, eventually, in the meantime -”

“I want you.”

“I know.”

Your voice had thickened noticeably and Harry used one big palm and a heavy thigh to keep you from shoving him out the door. How could someone so infuriating be so irresistible.

“Why don’t I just tell y’what I want to do to you tomorrow night? I can go step by step. You can even go and take notes in your planner. I am sure it’s over on the table.”

You tried not to look over at your organizer laying face-open. The betrayer.

“I…think we better just wait. I - You can’t just - I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Give me just ten minutes. Tonight. Ten minutes to touch you and show you how much I need you.”

“I - we can’t do this, Harry.” You desperately tried to push him out from the room and slam the door to hide your flustered face. “I really have to go, Harry.”

He stepped back, taking away his weight, and letting you slam the door loudly.

“Bye,’ he yelled loudly through the wood, absolutely pleased that he had rattled you and so ready to do it again tomorrow night.

[masterlist]

[ibtk]

Book Review: THE SEVENTH MANSION by Maryse Meijer

(Full disclosure: I received a free e-ARC for review though Edelweiss. Trigger warning for sexual assault, homophobia, violence against animals, and disturbing sexual content.)

-- 4.5 stars --

There is this person I love. And he’s not even a person.

After Xie's parents split and an environmental disaster sends his already precarious mental health spiraling, Xie and his father Erik relocate from California to an unnamed town in the rural south, in search of the proverbial fresh start.

At first, Xie is your garden-variety teenage outcast: melancholy. goth. vegan. an outsider. friendless. forgettable. Yet he's quickly "adopted" by the only other vegans in the school - girlfriends Jo and Leni, who together make up the entirety of FKK.

The group's animal rights activism slowly evolves from leafleting to direct action: the trio breaks into a local mink farm, freeing as many of its captives as they can. Xie is nabbed during the getaway, and suddenly he goes from "nobody" to "that freak who vandalized the Moore farm". Instead of silence and indifference, Xie is met by hostile sneers, gossip, and relentless bullying. He takes a leave of absence from high school, instead getting one-on-one tutoring at the local library. His parents are forced to pay restitution, and Xie's placed on probation.

Xie's only respite is nature: his burgeoning vegetable garden; the small but pristine forest behind his house; and, eventually, the mysterious light, nestled among the branches, that leads him to a tiny church - and his beloved. St. Pancratius, who was martyred in 304 A.D. and whose remains are on covert display in a one-room church in the middle of nowhere.

He traces the image with his finger. The story the same in every version: A boy on a road, refusing to lift his sword against the lamb, losing his head every time the story is told, again and again and again.

Still, all of this comes with a cost: loving nature, whether animal, vegetable, or mineral, means saying goodbye to it one day. Relationships can be messy, even when they're with clean bones. Sometimes we get so wrapped up in our own shit that we're oblivious to what our loved ones are going through. Maybe your tutor shows up to work one day piss drunk and tells you about her abortion. Or your friends drag you to a backwoods meeting of environmental activists, where one of them sexually assaults you. Or you show up to a mass protest that is even more massive than you anticipated, and find you're unable to protect yourself, let alone the 55 billion+ land animals slaughtered for food every year in the US alone (animalclock.org).

The problem is too big, even when it's one of the smaller ones. The problem is impossible.

While disturbing, Xie's theft of a skeleton is not the worst crime he'll commit in his teen years. As FKK becomes involved with a local animal rights group, and Xie's sanctuary is threatened, he careens toward an inevitable (????) collision with the outside world, which neither understands him - nor cares to. (Fuck capitalism.)

THE SEVENTH MANSION is one weird-ass book; I mean, the main character has sex with a skeleton (!). This is certainly the wildest aspect of the story, but it's not alone. For example, take the narrative structure, which has a kind of stream-of-(Xie's)-consciousness vibe. Many of the sentences are fractured, even forced, as though we're pulling them from the depth's of Xie's tortured soul. His thoughts. Are broken. Up. Like this. Conversely, there are no chapters, and so many of the paragraphs are just huge, unbroken blocks of text - almost as though Meijer is framing Xie in opposition to the larger world around him.*

I suspect that THE SEVENTH MANSION is one of those love it or hate it dealios. Personally, I loved it, even as some parts proved excruciatingly unbearable to read.

I don't know whether Meijer is vegan, but she gets so much right; sometimes it felt like she was rooting around inside my head. I went vegetarian my freshman year of college (1996, not to date myself) and vegan about 9 years later. Reading Xie was like having a mirror held up to my own depressive, anxious, vegan psyche. One thing carnists probably don't realize about walking around this world as a vegan is: it takes a ton of mental work, of suppression and dissociation, just to get through the day.

Animal suffering is omnipresent, and largely accepted. From Carl's Jr. commercials to classroom trips to the zoo; leather car seats to team lunches at non-vegan restaurants, where you'll be forced to watch your coworkers and friends devour the corpse of a once-living creature - someone's mother, brother, or child - we are constantly forced to bear witness to the oppression of animals. Worse, to pretend as though it's of no consequence: just to get along, or because doing otherwise would quickly devour your time, your prospects, your relationships. To say that it's depressing is an understatement.

Whether Xie is living through the oil spill that finally made his world "snap," or gazing into the eyes of caged mink, I was right there with him, trying not to cry. Not to break. There's so much suffering in the world; if you try to take it all in, to truly understand its scope, it will swallow you whole.

Speaking of the oil spill, which was the impetus for Xie to go vegan - Meijer's description of this moment in Xie's life brought back so many memories. When I decided to stop eating meat, I was working at a local grocery store. Every now and again, they had an employee appreciation dinner (in lieu of a raise, natch), which basically consisted of all you can eat burgers and hot dogs in the break room. Everyone would stuff their faces, taking in as many free calories as possible. Not because they were hungry, but to get as much of a leg up on our cheap ass employer as possible. The sheer gluttony and waste of it all is what finally did it for me. No one needed to eat seven hamburgers in one night; we did because we could, because not doing so would be to lose out. The working class eating the chattel, and no one eating the rich.

Point being, that's a singular moment in my life that I'll never forget. It stands out in stark relief, right alongside the deaths of my husband and furkids (six dogs and one cat down and counting). If I close my eyes, I can almost transport myself back there, white starched shirt, demo table, 7PM Friday fatigue, and all.

The last time he ate meat he was twelve years old, after the spill: Xie was Alex then. Even miles from the beach, they could smell something off; at first they thought it was the sandwiches, ham pressed hot in the pockets of Erik’s windbreaker, but the closer they got to the beach the stronger the smell became, noxious, chemical. They parked at their usual spot, yellow tape blocking access to the beach beyond. A black ribbon flat against the horizon; that was the water. No trace of blue. On the rocks below the lot a half dozen pelicans huddled together. Coated from beak to foot in oil. Don’t touch them, his father said. Someone will come wash it off. But there was no one. The black sea lapping the sand. Those bewildered eyes. He watched as one of the birds collapsed, its head twisted sideways against its folded neck. His father pulled him away. The fire on the water burned for two weeks; the beach remained black for a year. Sea turtles, dolphins, whales, gulls, crabs, otters, fish, birds rolled up by the waves in the tens of thousands. Oil on meat on sand. No stopping it. Xie got headaches, bloody noses; he was always tired, couldn’t sleep. His mother standing in the doorway, Stop playing games, you’re fine. But his father was never angry. Scared of what he saw. Xie in the dark. Unable to make it from one room to another. The people who used to go to the beach just went somewhere else. Life as usual. Slumped in the backseat as his father fed gas into the truck he suddenly couldn’t stand it. Stopped standing it. He opened the back door, started walking. Alex, his father called, but he was not Alex anymore. He poured out all the milk in the house and fed the meat to the dogs next door and rode his bike everywhere.

So yeah, our circumstances may be different, but Xie's conversion sure hit me in the feels.

Meijer also does an excellent job capturing the heartbreak and urgency of Millennials and Gen Z. As tormented as I might have been in high school, at least I had the luxury of not thinking too much about climate change - at least until Al Gore came along. Xie and his peers, on the other hand, will bear the brunt of their predecessors' unchecked greed. Nowhere is this divide more eloquently laid bare than in Jo's post-march argument with Erik (who is likely around my age):

Didn’t you see how he just folded up out there? He can’t protect himself, he won’t. You don’t know what he was like, before we came here, okay, you didn’t watch him, lying in bed day after day, ready to cut his goddamn throat because of all this shit, this constant litany of doomsday statistics, he just takes it in and he can’t—he doesn’t know what to do with it, and you want to keep shoving it in his face, when it’s—it’s enough! Staring at Jo, who stares back. Look, whatever you’re afraid of, whatever he’s afraid of, it’s already happening, okay? And he knows it, he’s living it, and he wants to do something about it. If there was some other option, some fantasyland where everything is going to be fine as long as we bury our heads in the sand, then believe me, I’d take it. But there’s not. Not for me and not for Leni and not for Xie and if you think you can protect him by denying that then you’re just—wrong. I’m sorry. She holds Erik’s gaze; he nods, the first to look away.

My gods, that scene just cuts me to the bone. As bleak as things are now, I cannot imagine going through all this - climate change, COVID-19, a Trump presidency, Democratic ineptitude/complicity, *gesturing wildly* - as an adolescent. Their elders cut them down before they even started crawling.  

On a lighter note, Xie's scenes with his clueless mom and her equally clueless new husband (Jerry!) brought a(n admittedly wry) smile to my face. If I had a penny for every times this scene has played out in my life, I'd have enough cash monies to start my own animal sanctuary.

Don’t you want some vegetables, Xie? Jerry asks. I don’t eat animal products, Xie murmurs, and Jerry, confused, staring at the green beans, How is this— Butter, Xie interrupts. Butter is from milk, which is from cows, which are animals. Jerry blinks. Gosh, I didn’t even think of that. Sorry. Xie shrugs.

There's so much to obsess about here: I love Jo and Leni together, and their opposing circumstances just make the relationship so much more complex - and potentially fraught. Erik and tutor Karen (I wonder if the name choice was intentional?) are interesting supporting characters, and their relationships with Xie are so beautiful and nuanced; they both support him the best they know how.

Xie's interactions with his phantom lover are a little more confusing and difficult for me to comprehend. Perhaps P. represents Xie's inability to connect with the human world around him, or at least not as well as the more abstract, ephemeral natural world. Possibly P. is Xie's ideal human: one who would rather die than raise a finger against an animal (or one who cannot disappoint you by voicing their own opinions). Or maybe it's simpler than that, and Xie's hallucinations are just that: hallucinations. In any case, it made an already odd book absolutely bizarre, but in a good way, so I can't complain.

* This could just be because I was reading an early copy in need of further editing - but, seeing as how some formatting was already present, I think it was intentional. https://www.goodreads.com/review/show/3672191091

[cutesuki--bakugou]

Always

Main Pairing: Katsuki Bakugou x Koge Naegi (OC)

Story Rating: Explicit

Genre: Fluff / Hurt / Comfort / Romance / Domestic

Story Warnings: Topics of Depression / Anxiety / Body Image / Eating Disorder / Suicide, cursing, sex, alcohol

Chapter 3: Always, I’ll Love You

1 | 2 | 3

Chapter Rating: Explicit Warnings: Cursing, Alcohol Consumption, Topics of Depression / Anxiety / Body Image / Eating Disorder, Sex (Vaginal and Oral) Words: 4,183

The couple sat on the floor holding each other for nearly an hour, until not a single tear was left in Koge’s eyes. Tenderly, Bakugou urged her to sit up from him, cupping her cheeks with both hands as he kissed her forehead. “My Koge… I’m glad you finally let me in. But for now, I think that working on a plan should wait until tomorrow. You’ve had a long day. Besides, we have all weekend just to each other.” 

Sniffling, Koge placed her hands over his, looking him in the eye for the first time that night. “You’re… not going in tomorrow?” 

“No. And not the day after, either. If you need me to stay even longer, then I will.” 

“But… your numbers…?” 

“We have enough in savings to use if I need to take a little extra time off. That stuff doesn’t matter, you don’t have to worry about that.” Taking a bit of a risk, Bakugou leaned forward to kiss her lips softly, feeling his heart lift when she returned it. Although it pained him to admit, he couldn’t remember the last time they had shared more than a simple peck on the lips. Being with her like this, sitting on the floor and sharing such an intimately emotional moment, he realized that he had truly been missing her. She had been like a ghost, moving through each day on a numbed routine, with forced smiles and hidden struggles. But now that everything was out, he hoped to be able to help her recover, no matter how long it took them. 

When she pulled away, the timidness and low self-confidence quickly took over, prompting her to shyly look away and rest her forehead against his collarbone. “I… I’m sorry the food got cold…” 

“That’s not a big deal. That’s what microwaves are for. Are you still hungry?” 

With her small nod, Bakugou stood, picking up her petite body as he did. He could admit to himself that he had been able to see and feel the change in her body as she gained weight, but it was nothing that bothered him in the slightest. In fact, the way the weight settled on her body only further accentuated her already curvy figure, and from the glimpses he had been able to catch lately before she hid herself, it was more attractive to him than she would probably ever believe. 

He wasn’t sure how he was ever going to get across to her that she was still just as beautiful to him as she had always been, that gaining weight and having some body issues after having two children was understandable. Not only that, but it was reversible, if she truly wanted to get back into her fit body. 

Setting her down gently on the edge of the bed, Bakugou gave her flushed cheek another soft kiss before he gathered all the food together. “Hot food, comin’ up. You want anything else?” 

A small smile crossed Koge’s lips, running her fingers through a lock of her hair. “Whisky?” 

“Straight?” 

“With ice. Please?” 

“You got it.” 

Once all the food was heated, Bakugou was sure to bring everything up in one trip, even holding a plate of his pasta between his teeth. That was on purpose, of course, and Koge giggled at the sight of him, standing and trotting over to help once he returned. 

“Katsuki, you didn’t have to bring it all up at once.” She took her plate and the bottle of whisky, allowing him to hold his plate like normal. 

“But I did. The less I have to go up and down the stairs, the better. I swear, when the kids are all out of here, I’m building us a one-story house.” Placing two cups filled with ice down on the nightstand, he plopped to sit on the bed. “And besides, I wouldn’t dare make you wait another second for food and whisky.” 

Everything felt normal for a while. They could talk and laugh, pick on each other and play around like there was absolutely nothing in between them. And though he tried to ignore it, with a little help from the alcohol, Bakugou still couldn’t help but notice how Koge ate nothing but the vegetables from her plate and picked the crab meat out of the crab poppers. But he was glad that she was eating and that her body image issues hadn’t scaled into a disorder of any kind. She even picked some veggies off his plate and ate the squid that hadn’t been fried that he offered to her. 

It came to a stop when she suddenly lost hold of her chopsticks, giving a small gasp as they fell onto her pants, staining them with the sauce off the food in a sticky mess. “Aw man…” Setting her plate down with a visible pout, Koge picked up the chopsticks and piece of squid off her lap, plopping it back with the remainder of her food. “These were my last clean sweatpants… Or pajama pants in general.” 

“You want me to go throw them in the washer?” Bakugou spoke with a cheek full of noodles, which was the last of his food. “I can start a load of your clothes for you, if you want.” 

With a small shake of her head, Koge stood, making her way into their ensuite. Before she vanished behind the wall, Bakugou could see that sad gleam in her eyes, and the enjoyment up until now was crushed to a halt. Giving a sigh, Bakugou finished off the whisky in his glass, putting his plate on the nightstand along with hers. If things were normal, Bakugou knew exactly how she would have reacted. She would have laughed it off, stripped the pants off and just went with what was left. Instead, she felt the need to hide from him. 

“Utsuro… Come out.” 

“I have to find something else to wear…” 

The cracked and worried tone of her voice brought a frown to his lips. “You don’t. Just come out… I want to tell you something.” 

After a moment of silence, Koge timidly shuffled out of the ensuite, her cheeks flushed bright red and eyes glazed with worried tears. Clutching on tightly to the hem of the t-shirt, she had obviously tried to pull it down as far as it would go, but it still stopped at her upper thigh. With a small wave of his hand to beckon her forward, Bakugou held his hand out to her until she approached, though she couldn’t quite look at him. 

“I… My legs are ugly…” 

Scooting closer to the edge of the bed with his feet resting on the floor, Bakugou took both of her hands tenderly, pulling her in closer to stand between his legs. “There’s not a single ugly thing on you. Except maybe this shirt. What is that stupid shit, huh? What type of dumb ass walks around with skulls like some type of loser emo.” Sly smile crossing his lips as Koge couldn’t resist a small scoff, Bakugou let his arms rest around her legs as she put hers around his neck, hiding her face in his hair. 

“Well, I got it out of a certain loser emo boys’ closet. Y’know, along with all his other black clothes and skulls.” Koge let her body rest in closer to his, softly stroking the back of his head as she relaxed into his embrace. “He really is a loser emo boy… But I love him so much.” 

Taking her closeness as a hint that he could touch her, he carefully caressed the small of her back with one hand, while the other rested against her outer thigh. “Hmm… Do you?” Tenderly, he placed kisses along her neck, letting his hand slowly travel up towards her hips. “Well, I bet that emo boy loves you, too.” 

He could feel her tense up a bit as he reached the borders of her underwear, which was the first place he could truly feel the slight plushness that had made her so self-conscious. In truth, all it did was make him yearn for her, to explore her beautiful body that he hadn’t gotten to see, let alone touch, for many weeks. He had wanted her so badly, just as he had always wanted her, but he had been pushed away every time. Unlike before, now he understood, but that made his wanting all the more intense, because he wanted to show her how much he adored her in a physical way. Over the years of being with her, he had gotten better at words, but he still preferred actions. To touch her, to adore every inch of her and pleasure her is what he wanted to do, but it was also something he didn’t want to push. 

Letting his hand slide back down her thigh, Bakugou looked up at Koge as she sat up a bit from him, a conflicted embarrassment on her face. “Katsuki… I… I’m so scared that you won’t find me attractive anymore… How could you, when all you’ve known is how I used to be…” 

“It’s not all I’ve known, Utsuro. I was attracted to you when you were thin and still building muscle. When you were strong and built. At every stage of being pregnant and after. And now. Always. It’s not just your body that makes me attracted to you. And right now, you look damn sexy in my shirt, like you always have.” 

“You mean it…?” Koge softly trailed her finger along his jawline, her pale blue gaze glancing over his face. Gripping her hips, he pulled her in a bit closer to place a soft kiss on her lips, which she seemed reluctant to let end. 

“I mean it. And if it makes you feel better, I don’t have to look. I can just touch. Or we can stop. Whatever you want.” Although he would stop, as he said, Bakugou hated the thought of her denying his affection again. Sure, he missed making love to her greatly, but it wasn’t just that. In truth, he was at a loss for what to do right now. He wanted to bring her some sense of happiness, some pleasure in any way that he could right then. The food had worked, at least a little, but he figured that if he got the chance to share that intimate moment, he could do and say more to get her to hopefully believe him. 

That familiar heat grew fiercer in his chest as Koge let her fingers softly trail across his bottom lip, her expression a mix of confliction and irresistible arousal. She was so soft, so beautifully flushed and full of desire that she had been denying them that Bakugou could barely restrain himself. His affection being unwelcomed was something that he had experienced before with her, but it had never been this long or this dark. Still, he waited for her answer, and when a small smile finally crossed her lips, his heart all but leaped out of his chest. 

Resting herself back against him, Koge kissed him gently, though it wasn’t as it had been before. She was open and accepting of his love, his support, and his help to turn all the negativity around. Like anything else they went through, this was something they could conquer together, through time, patience, and love. 

Love. That’s all that Bakugou wanted to give her now, to shower her in affection and adore every inch of her. With the permission given, his hands picked back up where they had left off, sliding up the soft skin of her thighs to her hips. Although she never specified what was allowed, he knew that she would be the most comfortable with taking it slow, touching but not seeing. And so, his hands wandered as they pleased.

Slowly trailing under the hem of her underwear, his hands slid around to grip and squeeze her backside, which had become more of a handful than he remembered. It only turned him on further, however, and he couldn’t resist making the kiss more passionate. She reacted better than he expected, gasping softly into the kiss as she opened her mouth to allow him in. Even more surprising, she crawled up to straddle his lap, which brought his hands further down around the curve of her ass. Her sex was already hot and wet enough for him to be able to feel it through her underwear, which was only further confirmation that she wanted this just as badly as he did. 

Although going straight to pleasuring her was enticing, he abandoned her hips, one hand traveling up her sides while the other slid back down across her thigh. “Damn it, Utsuro,” Bakugou growled against her lips, catching her gaze as she shifted her hips tighter against his. “You’re so damn soft. I could just touch you forever.” 

Touching him as if she were exploring his body for the first time, Koge trailed her fingers along his torso, tracing the hard form of his muscles against the soft fabric of his t-shirt. “Me too, Katsuki…” Once her hands reached his hips, they only continued, running along the form of his semi erect member that was already straining against his shorts. “You’re so perfect… Sometimes I can’t even believe that you’re mine… That I’m so lucky.” 

With the gentle pleasure that rolled through his body at her touch, Bakugou returned the affection with his hands sliding up her back, slipping beneath the band of her bralette she was wearing. Another oddity that would have never happened before, but the simple fact that it was his favorite little lace one made him all the more excited. “If anyone’s lucky, it’s me.” Carefully, Bakugou scooped her up and laid her down beneath him, kissing her softly in comfort as his hands trailed down her sides. “You’ve stuck with me though all the bullshit. Given me two beautiful children. Helped push me, even when it seemed like I’d have to give up. You’re my everything and I’m the one that’s lucky.” 

Cheeks flushing with his sentimental words, Koge found herself at a loss for what to say, only able to kiss and hold him. If Bakugou were honest, he would be perfectly happy just staying with her like this for hours, but he knew that wouldn’t be enough. No, it just wasn’t enough to show how much he loved her and adored every inch of her, and he knew that he had to give her more. So, slowly, his lips began to trail down across her neck, pushing her shirt up. He didn’t get any further than right below her breasts when she stopped him, her hands lightly squeezing his arms. 

“K-Katsuki, I… I’m nervous.” 

“I know. I told you, I won’t look. And you can stop me any time.” 

Taking her hands softly stroking down his arms as permission, Bakugou closed his eyes as promised, even though the urge to see her was nearly unbearable. The feeling of her breasts falling free from the shirt as he pushed it up made his heart begin to race, only able to imagine how beautiful they looked tucked into the little bralette. The mix of the lace and her skin were soft beneath his touch as his fingers traced along the perfect curve, his thumb lightly rolling over her erect nipple. Unable to resist the need to squeeze, he rested his forehead against her collarbone, massaging and squeezing with a gentle eagerness. For a moment, he felt like a stupidly horny teenager getting to touch boobs for the first time, silently scolding himself for getting so excited over this. 

Even worse, the position they were in already has his member pressing up against her sex, and even though his shorts were in the way, it took all his control to not start grinding against her. To make sure he could resist, he began to make his way down her body, kissing and caressing every inch of her chest and stomach. All the defined muscle lines he was familiar with were gone, her body so soft and plush that he found himself just wanting to touch her all over. She may have hated it in a way that he couldn’t understand, but damn, did it drive him crazy, especially since he could only touch and picture her beautiful figure in his mind. 

By the time he reached below her belly button, she was trembling and breathing heavily, as if her anticipation was on the peak of driving her mad. Or was it nervousness? 

“Are you okay, Utsuro?” Bakugou spoke low with his lips still against her skin, his hot breath making her shiver. He could hear her swallow hard as his fingers slipped beneath the hem of her underwear, though he didn’t waste a second in slipping them off as she lifted her hips up for him. 

“Yes, I’m… I’m okay. Your hair is just a little tickly.” 

Smirk crossing his lips, Bakugou gripped her ribs softly, nuzzling his nose against her lower stomach to let his hair run across her skin. “Oh yeah? Are you sure it is?” 

With a series of giggles and twitches as he tickled her, Koge put both hands on the top of his head, trying to push down to make him stop. “Katsuki, don’t--” Her giggles turned into laughter when Bakugou pressed his lips against her skin, giving her a full-on raspberry while squeezing her ribs. “No! Stop, I can’t-!” Struggling against his grip, Koge was distracted just long enough to not quite notice Bakugou moving further between her legs, until his tongue ran up along her sex. 

Bakugou could feel the tips of his ears grow hot just from the sound she made, her body shuddering as an airy moan escaped with her laughter. Her fingers still in his hair, they released their panicked grip to instead stroke softly, relaxing as her body did against the pleasure. Just as his tongue trailed slowly against her clit, his hands stroked along her body, from her thighs, across her hips, and up to squeeze and caress her breasts. His touch was so gentle, as if he were handling a precious and fragile piece of glass that had already begun to crack. This is truly how Koge had become, so physically and emotionally broken that she had already started to fall to pieces. 

But now, he had the chance to heal her, to slowly start putting her back together again using his touch. She allowed him, moaning softly as her hips rocked with his movements, and it wasn’t long before her voice began to hitch and tremble. “K-Katsuki… Please…!” Her begging was expected, as Bakugou tended to tease and edge her mercilessly in any normal situation. Now, however, was not the time for that. So, he let her cum, holding onto her hips tightly as she twitched and bucked against him with the soft waves of pleasure. 

As she calmed, Bakugou kissed his way back up to her lips, where she welcomed his kisses eagerly. Already, her fingers were tugging at his shorts to get rid of them, and not wanting to keep her waiting any longer, he was quick to oblige. With her body open and ready for him, there wasn’t another minute wasted before he began to slip his hard and aching cock into her, catching her gaze with his own to watch her expression. He loved seeing the flushing of her face, her brow furrowed, and lips parted with a sweet and soft moan. 

“You’re so fucking beautiful.” Arms propping him up on either side of her head, he buried his fingers into her hair as he kissed her once more, beginning to rock his hips to move himself against her ever constricting walls. Wrapping her arms around his torso, Koge gripped onto the fabric of his shirt tightly, legs loosely hugging his hips to leave as little space between them as possible. It was so warm, so slow, hot, and passionate that within moments, they became completely lost in each other. He kissed and praised her, showering her with as much love and affection as he possibly could while pleasuring her to the fullest. 

Still, as he had promised, he never once took his eyes off her face to look at her body, not even as the remaining clothing was stripped away to leave them bare. No matter how badly he wanted to, he refused to break that line of trust he had struggled to regain. After all, it wasn’t as if he needed to see her. All he needed to see was the love and pleasure in her teary gaze, the smile that crossed her lips, and the adorable way in which the tip of her white freckled nose flushed darker than her cheeks with each praise and touch. 

As the pleasure began to peak, Bakugou pressed his forehead into hers, refusing to break eye contact. “Listen to me, Koge,” He spoke through ragged breaths, picking up the pace and plunging himself deeper into her depths. “I fucking love you. No matter what you think, how you look, or what you feel, I will always love you.” 

The tears that had welled up in her eyes finally fell free as Koge latched onto him tighter, refusing to let him go as the pleasure began to overwhelm her. “I-I love you, too, Katsuki! More than anything. Always!” 

After sharing one more kiss, Bakugou buried his face into her shoulder, holding onto her tightly as he pushed them both over the edge. The sweet sounds of her moans, adorable squeaking voice, and trembling body would have easily been enough to spur him on to give her more, but as he released inside her, his pleasure was mixed with an overwhelming need to just hold her. And so, he did, soaking in her presence as they stayed connected, so close and intimate in a way that only lovers knew. 

His daze was interrupted by a soft hiccup, bringing him to sit up and look down at her. Tears still spilling down her cheeks, Koge brought her hands around to caress his neck, lightly massaging and scratching the base of his hairline with her nails. “Katsuki… I… I’m sorry.” 

“For what? Being so damn perfect?” Placing both hands on her cheeks, he wiped the tears away before leaning in to kiss her sweetly, even against her soft giggles. “Or for snotting all over my cheek? Or crushing my head with those sexy thighs?” 

Cheeks flushing, Koge shook her head, smile plastered to her lips. “No! I’m sorry for… worrying you. And… for not letting you look at me. I could tell you wanted to.” 

“We’re not out of the woods yet, Utsuro, but I’m not worried anymore. You don’t have to be alone in this.” Resting on his elbows, Bakugou moved her hair out of her face gently, kissing her sweaty forehead before trailing the kisses down her nose and back to her lips. “And I don’t have to look at your body to be turned on by you. I have a pretty good imagination.” 

Koge hummed softly against his lips, playfully twirling a lock of his hair between her fingers. “I know you do. My Katsuki… You’re too good to me.” 

“Shut up, you know you deserve it.” With a final kiss, Bakugou sat up from her, removing himself from within her before plopping down to sit between her legs. Still keeping his promise, he took a moment to rub his tired eyes and ruffle his hair. As expected, she had pulled the blanket over her body by the time he was done, but he didn’t bother making any kind of snarky remark. Instead, he ran his hand up and down along her thigh, enjoying her soft skin beneath the rough texture of his palms. “I will admit that it’s hard for me to not want to squeeze you constantly right now, though.” 

Koge held her arms out towards him, wiggling her fingers. “No one ever said cuddling was still out of the question.” 

For a moment, Bakugou felt his heart beat heavily at how absolutely… bright Koge looked. Compared to the dull, grey woman that he had been witnessing fading more and more over the last few months, she had changed so much already. She was glowing, smiling and flushed, with a radiating sense of hope. She had accepted his support, his help, and with time, he knew that they could fix this together. 

Without uncovering her body, Bakugou got beneath the blankets with her, holding her body close as she snuggled up against his chest. “If it’s allowed, then I will gladly take it. My Koge…” Running his fingers through her hair to move it out of her face, Bakugou kissed her forehead gently, unable to resist his own smile as she hummed happily. “I love you, my beautiful salty woman.” 

“And I love you, my sweet explosive man. Always.” 

“Always.” 

[itsakpopalypse]

Kim Inseong (SF9) Astrology : How He Loves

“You already know what’s coming... 😏 can you please do one of your wonderful astrology „how he loves“-posts for SF9‘s Inseong, thank youuu 😄😘 “ -  @randomkpopfiction 

A/N, for you my love, my bebe, anything ^_^  I hope you enjoy. who is cackling evilly in the distance? If you can hear it from where you are it’s definitely not me...

without further adieu 

STOP THAT’S CUTE

So!!!

He is a Cancer sun, Rising Libra, Aries Moon

so this is suuuper interesting. ALL THREE ARE CARDINAL SIGNS

in fact, his entire chart is HEAVILY cardinal

this is really interesting but we’ll talk more about that later. 

Libra and Aries are sister signs, meaning that they are euqal but opposite

Both are the Cardinal of their element, and they are both in the “Active” elements type

this is interesting because while Cancer is a sometimes too moody sign, 

Libra is very temperate and controlled, and Aries has passion and determination

this should be a nice balance for Cancer’s general “I’m upset so I can’t function” moments

honestly at first glance his chart made me go WHOAH

because his aspect design is.... elaborate

Libra rising suggests he is open, charismatic, talkative and open minded

when you first meet him he will be super easy to get along with and likely crack a lot of lighthearted jokes

Libra’s are a bit flirty... very flirty...

so are Aries.

so there is probably a good amount of that unintentionally

Like he one of those people you meet who just compliments everyone and seems like they are jokingly hitting on every one around them

they will hit on a broom if they think it’ll get a laugh

Cancer suns are ... Complex? 

deep thinkers, deep feelers. The Cardinal of  Water

their feelings are like an ocean

it can be sweeping and rough or calm on the surface, but underneath full of life and excitement

they are represented by the crab so that means he may have a tough shell to crack emotionally 

especially if he feels like those feelings are not something the people around him need to see or know

Lunar Aries are full of AFFECTION

but are picky with who it goes to

so if you are in that circle expect all the touches and joking and compliments

His mercury is also Cancer so his communication can become blocked if he is truly emotional

he might need to pull into himself and think about it before expressing himself

that’s healthy and good!

Venus in Gemini, combined with a Virgo mars is a really interesting balance

it means that while Gemini tends to be... flighty until it is fully sure that that’s “the one” and fears commitment, Virgo  Mars (Mars being somewhat more dominant for male expression of affection) Will be more slow moving and tempered

basically he may WANT to jump right in and right back out, but his Virgo mars will say, no, take your time and learn this person well before you jump in

and will act as a voice of reason when Gemini starts fearing that it’s being tied down

North node in Sagittarius suggests he is intellectual and adventurous at heart 

maybe the type to take you places you have never been 

sight seeing in whatever way you prefer, touring new cities, hiking, etc,

wants to build experiences with you, not just give you gifts

all together!!

The type to compliment you at the exact moment you are feeling unsure 

“That skirt makes your legs look a million miles long.”

“How did I get so lucky, seeing your smile every day??”

“You make me happier than I can express. Just by being you.”

little out of the blue moments

definitely holds your hand when you’re on a drive

points out something in the distance and talks about it’s beauty only to tell  you that you are far more beautiful

inside and out

compliments your abilities too!!

He has the inquisitive and collectors mind of Sagittarius and Aries, 

like if you stimulate him mentally he will bust a nut in his heart 

the biggest turn on for a Cancer sun with an Aries moon is someone who can keep up with them in Wit and keep them on track when they start to get too bogged down by details

physically I think he would be the very possessive type since Cancer does NOT like to share

I imagine that means sitting close isn’t close enough

his lap?? Perfect for sits

likes to whisper into your ear from behind

half cause it’s cute half to feel you shiver

plops his head on your shoulder and wraps his arms around  your middle, probably fiddling with your fingers while he does

nuzzles into your neck to make you giggle

CUTE

might make you turn around so you face him mid lap sits

so he can rock you back and forth and rub  your back with little pats and gentle scritches

what is that?? your thighs?

for his head to go on 

will grab your hand and place it in his hair and just stare until you get the idea

he wants you to reciprocate

do not, do not

do not give this type of attention to another member

will get jealous and pout and refuse to speak to you 

until 👀👀👀 guess you’ll find out below

18 + below,

SPICY TIME

Get your man, please

You knew this was coming

Remember what i said above, about Jealous Cancer?

GIRL

We knew a Gemini Venus means ALL THE KINKS

we know an Aries moon means PASSION AND CONTROL

we know a Cancer sun means JEALOUSY INTENSITY AND POSSESSIVE 

before anyone freaks, no , i don’t mean possessive like controlling or unhealthy, but in a relationship where it’s established that these traits can come into play time... expect it to come OR YOU WHATEVER

And we know mars in Virgo means RULES AND DETAILS

honey 

oh 

oh honey

good luck

honestly

He would ensure you felt safe first, you’d have really good communication about sex and kinks and what is and isn’t okay and then....

he’d be sure to follow through

look . 

I’m not saying he HAS to dom?

but that’s exactly what I am saying

It’s that low key way, though

like no one on the outside would know, or have to know, that he was that way

you’d seem to have an incredibly normal relationship

isn’t the type to have you in collars or bring the play outside the room ...

but inside?

he has a box full of treasures just for his baby

he has a list you have to go over 

When you have a bad day he lavishes you in touches and kisses

“Lay back baby, let me make it all better for you..“

When you’ve been bratty he has a punishment for you 

“Ass up, grab your ankles, and count until we get to 10, miss a number and you start back at 1.”

Most days he just wants to have you in full compliance, writhing under him knowing that he is the one who gets to see you like this, hear you like this

His Lilith being in Pisces tells me he wants you all his own forever, a love driven by intense feelings, no half measures in his love

Overstim will probably be his favorite kink

likes hearing you gasp, see your back arch like oooh

will drag the back of his fingertips from your neck down to between your breasts to make you shiver

the type of lover who drags out the pleasure over and over

sensation play is a big emphatic YES

wear a blindfold so he can caress you with ribbons and silk and feathers

maybe temperature play?

Anything that get’s him the most intense reactions

probably has a tally somewhere of how many times he’s made you come in one session and aims to beat it

if you find it he’s like *grin* yep

wanna try now??

Virgo likes lists okay?

The type who isn’t shy about adding toys of any kind 

if it means he gets to see you come apart again and again he is all for it

12/10 cuddles after

like you will not get away

the koalaing has begun

you’re his until he is done with them. 

or gets hungry whatever.

All in all, He would have days where the kinks weren’t as big of a part

quickies when you’re short on time, 

eating you on the counter top while breakfast cooks

that kind of stuff

but he lives for elaborate decadence

the type that makes your toes curl every time you think about it

and your heartbeat speed up if you see that counter again because....

ooooffff

Hi i hope you aren’t dead my love 

[atths--twice]

Chapter Three 

A Walk on the Beach 

Walking on the beach leads to memories, stories, laughter, gazing, kissing.

As they leave the restaurant, they stop by the limo. They tell the driver they are going to walk on the beach and the pier, so it may be a while. He shrugs, smiles, and turns back to his paper. He’s paid through for the evening, time doesn’t matter to him.

The beach is not far, just past a few restaurants and down some stairs. There is a long pier with some rides and carnival games close by. When they get to the steps, Scully sits down and takes off her shoes.

“You should do the same, Mulder. It’s not any fun trying to get sand out of dress shoes,” she says matter of factly.

He doesn’t ask her how she knows this, but sits down next to her to take off his shoes and socks. He shoves his socks down inside and ties his laces together. Scully is sitting holding her shoes, waiting for him. He glances at her. She is staring at him, flicking her eyes to his lips, her breathing becoming fast. His heart pounds. He recognizes that look.

She licks her lips, drops her shoes and climbs into his lap-straddling him. She locks her arms around his neck and kisses him. He too drops his shoes, wraps his arms around her waist and grabs her ass. She moans and pushes her tongue in his mouth, slowly stroking her tongue over his. He groans into her mouth and pulls her closer as he thrusts his hips up. She rotates her pelvis against the beginning hardness she finds there and they both moan.

He brings a hand up to her neck, grabs a handful of hair and tugs. She gasps and pulls her mouth away from him. Her eyes are dilated and wide in surprise.

“The fuck are you trying to do to me, Scully?” He smiles as he strokes her neck, breathing hard, feeling the scar from her implant. “There is no way this,” he says with a thrust of his hips, “can be remedied out here. Jesus... Control yourself, woman.” He smiles and winks at her.

“Oh, but Mulder.. sometimes you make it so hard,” she purrs and then pouts when he moves her off his lap.

“No, Sister Spooky, you make it so hard,” he says as he stands up, adjusting his pants.

She laughs and grabs her shoes. Mulder takes them from her and puts them in his jacket pockets as he stands up. He throws his shoes across his shoulder and reaches for her hand. He loves the ease at which he can hold her hand or kiss her. Out here, away from the bureau, away from those who may be watching, he feels free.

Case in point, that limo ride. Christ on the holiest of crosses, he thinks with a chuckle, that was ballsy. He normally would have been able to control himself, but goddamn..she is pure sex sometimes. He never would have pegged Scully as one willing to have sex in a limo, but fucking hell.. She has surprised him with the things she is willing to do or let him do to her.

That mouth of hers..it should come with a warning. She makes him so hard with the things she says. Sometimes sitting in the office, after a night together, is pure torture. She is all business and all he can think is how she had begged him to fuck her until she exploded. How she wanted him behind her, under her, and in positions he had never tried before. As soon as she heard his breathing change, she would raise her eyes and grin. She knew exactly where his mind had gone.

God, he has to stop thinking this way. Walking around with an erection was understandably unavoidable when he was fourteen, but he’s a grown ass man. This is embarrassing and quite uncomfortable.

They reach the bottom of the stairs and Scully actually squeals as her feet hit the sand. Mulder looks at her and sees her childlike grin at putting her toes in the cold sand. She squeezes his hand and releases it, taking a few steps forward.

“God, I love the way the ocean smells, the sounds of it, the inky blackness of it at night. There is a poem I remember reading as a child that describes the ocean so perfectly. But, I can’t seem to recall all the words,” her brow furrows as she tries to think of them. “I used to say it to myself every night, the melody of it was so comforting. Hm.. the only thing left is the description of the color, inky black.”

She stands and stares at the ocean, breathing deeply, with a content smile on her lips. Mulder watches her watching the waves. He feels the huge dopey grin on his face and he doesn’t try to hide it. He is so happy right now. Standing in the cold sand, the smell of the ocean around him, watching her hair blow in the breeze, catching her scent mingled with the salt in the air. If he could choose where and when to die, it would be in this moment.

She looks over at him and sees his big grin. “What’s that smile about?” She asks with a wide smile of her own.

“Nothing,” he says and steps toward her and kisses her softly. She smiles at him and it is reminiscent of the kiss they shared on New Year’s Eve, chaste and sweet. He smiles again as he thinks of the many things they have done recently that are most definitely not chaste.

“Come on Scully, let’s go feel that cold Pacific Ocean,” he says as he reaches again for her hand. She laughs and locks her fingers with his as they trudge through the sand.

There are not many people out on the beach at this hour. A few stragglers here and there, but for the most part, they are on their own. The quiet of the beach is nice after the music of the restaurant.

The crashing of the waves is hypnotic. Scully remembers many trips to the beaches as a child; finding rocks, shells, sand crabs, and seaweed. Other than the rocks and shells, Melissa had never wanted to join her in finding those things. Unless the boys could be persuaded to stop playing in the water or digging huge holes, she was on her own. She did not mind her solitary play. Being on her own, she could dig and explore to her heart’s content.

They reach the waters edge and Mulder releases Scully’s hand, bending to roll up the legs of his pants. Scully takes his shoes from his shoulder and holds them for him. She steps forward and then jumps back at the coldness of the water.

“Christ, that’s cold!” She exclaims as she steps forward again. “That first feel of the water is always a shock. But, I love it.” She looks over at Mulder as he finishes with his pants and she grins.

He takes his shoes from her and reaches for her hand again. He pulls her a couple more steps into the water. He inhales sharply as the water hits his feet and she laughs. The water pulls back and they both feel the pebbles rush past them, their feet sinking deeper into the wet sand.

Scully lets Mulder’s hand drop. She raises her arms out and puts her head back, taking a deep breath. She smiles as the next wave crashes and her feet are submerged in water again.

She swears, if she turns around, she will catch a glimpse of her mother on a large blanket, under an umbrella. A big floppy hat on to keep her face protected from the hot sun. She will hear her calling out to all of her kids to be careful of the water. To respect its power. She will hear them all laugh as they brush her warnings off as mom just being worried.

Until Scully had a lifeguard swimming toward her one day, as she drifted too close to the pylons of the pier, did she learn to heed her mother’s words. She hadn’t even noticed she was close until it was almost too late.

The lifeguard had brought her out of the water, given her a talking to about paying attention, and brought her back to her mother-much farther down the beach than she remembered. Her mother had thanked the lifeguard and then looked at Scully. Cold, shaking, and embarrassed, she had sat down on one of the boogie boards the boys always brought.

“Dana,” her mother had begun. “How many times have I said to be careful and aware in the water? The ocean is not a docile creature. She is not forgiving. Today, Dana, today is a calm day and yet you drifted far away from where you began. You are a strong swimmer and able to look after yourself, but you cannot take chances or let your guard down. You love the sea, I know, but it will not love you back. You have to stay vigilant.”

Scully could still feel the way the water felt dripping off her body and her hair as she sat with her head bowed. The heat from the sun on her back, the sand on her toes, and the smell of the ocean all around her.

Her mother had leaned forward and tipped Scully’s chin up to look in her eyes. She gave her a small smile.

“I do not say these things to scare you from your fun Dana, I just want you to be safe,” she said as she pushed Scully’s wet hair back from her face and rubbed her cheek. “My darling girl, so much like your father. He respects the sea, my love, you need too as well.”

Scully had nodded. Her mother pulled her in for a quick hug and asked if she was hungry. She breathed a sigh of relief knowing there would be no punishment for not listening to her mother's words. Her father would not hear about this, for which she was extremely grateful. Her father’s disappointment was something she avoided at all costs. The look on his face was enough to make her feel shame for days.

Her mother had called all the kids to come back and eat. As they all grabbed for sandwiches and snacks, her mother had caught her eye and smiled. Scully felt her heart lighten, and joined in with the fun and laughter of her brothers and sister.

She turns around now almost expecting to see the ghosts of her mother and siblings sitting on the shore. The night wind blows and she could swear she hears the laughter of that day blowing across the beach. She feels a chill and feels Mulder touch her back.

“Cold?” he asks her as he rubs his hand up and down her back.

“No.. just thinking of old memories,” she says with a small smile, turning toward him. “Did I ever tell you about the time my father decided we should try to go to as many beaches as possible in two weeks' time?” She asks as she pushes her toes around in the sand and the water, grazing his toes at times.

He chuckles. “No, I’m pretty sure I’ve never heard that story.”

“Well, we were living here- well not here but in San Diego. Which, as you know, has beaches pretty much everywhere. But my father decided he wanted to see Manhattan, Redondo, Santa Monica. He thought it would be a good teaching moment for us, seeing as there is a lot of history in the beaches. Many Native Americans were the first people to live in those areas. My father never wanted us to just have a vacation, he also wanted us to learn something, you know?” She smiles at him and turns toward the shore.

She starts walking past the tide, her feet beginning to feel cold. When she finds a dry area past where the waves can't reach, she sits down.

Mulder sits down next to her and she puts her head on his shoulder. They sit looking at the waves for a few minutes before he gives her a nudge to continue her story.

She smiles and starts again.

“So, my father has this trip planned and my mother has been packing for it for weeks. We were going to be camping at campsites, so we had to be sure we had everything we needed. We were of no help to my mother, packing wise. I was eleven, Melissa was thirteen, Bill was fifteen and Charlie-“

“Whom I still don’t believe actually exists,” Mulder cuts in, his voice disbelieving. “I’ve met everyone else in your family, except him. What are you Scully’s hiding? Might have to open an X-File,” he says with a look of mock intrigue.

Scully laughs and shakes her head. They have had this discussion before. Mulder expressing his doubts that the youngest Scully member will ever make an appearance, therefore proving he does not exist.

“Anyway,” she continues with a smile. “Charlie was nine and he and Bill didn’t always get along. Bill was too cool for everything back then. He had a short fuse and it seemed to be directed at Charlie the most. They fought constantly, about everything. So, we’re all piled into this old station wagon we had. It’s laden down with suitcases, tents, cookware, pillows, blankets.. so many things. All of us kids are on the bench seat in the back. All of us, Mulder,” she tells him with a look of incredulity before continuing on. “The car has no air conditioning and it’s hot as hell. Oh, and the car had leather seats. So it was that hot where your skin is wet with sweat and also sticks to the seat at the same time. It’s disgusting,” she shakes her head again lost in the thought of that trip.

Mulder can picture them all, squished in, ready for an adventure, but with that little bastard Bill likely to explode. Mulder had been on the receiving end of the rudeness of Bill as an adult. As a teenage boy, he must have been an outright shit to everyone in the family.

“So, we’re in this hot car, loaded down, about forty five minutes into our two and a half hour drive, when Melissa starts to feel carsick.”

Mulder bursts out laughing.

“Oh, did I not mention that she got carsick? Oh god, Mulder, it was always horrible. She would sometimes get carsick going to the grocery store. She had a bucket that stayed in the car permanently, in case she needed to vomit. So here we are, Melissa by the window, me next to her, and the boys next to each other, with Bill by the window. As she says she’s feeling sick, Bill gets mad at Charlie for touching “his side.” Usually I tried to sit between them so that didn’t happen, but I didn’t get there in time.”

Mulder is still chucking, picturing the scene of the Scully kids packed in like sardines. Scully, the peacemaker, trying to calm her brothers and also help her sister. He puts his left hand on her knee and gives it a squeeze. He could envision her fierce look as she tries to appease everyone, he has seen it enough times himself.

She takes his hand from her knee and stands up.  She wants to walk the beach a bit before they head back to the hotel. She looks down at Mulder and reaches for his hands. He grabs hold and together they pull him up. He stands and brushes off his pants. He smiles at her as he reaches for her hand again. He locks their fingers and she looks at him and grins. They start to walk down the beach as she continues the story.

“So, Melissa actually starts dry heaving, Bill punches Charlie, my mom is trying to calm Melissa and I am trying to punch Bill because Charlie is crying.”

Mulder laughs even harder at the thought of scrappy eleven year old Scully taking on her tough older brother. She hasn’t changed much. He’s watched her take down criminals twice or sometimes three times her size. Anyone who looks at her might see a petite pretty woman, but she is tough as nails and scary as hell at times.

“My mother is telling Melissa to grab her bucket and I had just gotten a hold of Bill’s hair and I was pulling hard. He was screaming at me to let him go, Charlie was still crying, my sister started actually vomiting, and then I called my brother a son of a bitch.”

Mulder is howling with laughter, actually holding his stomach as he laughs from deep inside. He stops walking, lets go of her hand, throws his head back and he laughs and laughs. He has tears in his eyes as he pictures the shock on everyone’s faces. How quiet it must have gotten. He looks at Scully and she is laughing too, a huge grin on her face, as she looks at him. Hearing him laugh is like a drug. She loves his laugh and she doesn’t get to hear it often enough. He may chuckle here and there, but a deep gut clenching laugh like this-those are few and far between. His eyes are sparkling and his whole face is lit up. God, she loves him.

“God, Scully,” he says, coughing and laughing still, wiping tears from his eyes. “How have I never heard this story before? It has everything. The happy family going on vacation, the unpredictability of carsickness, the antagonist picking on the weak, the protagonist saving the day by avenging the weak and also dropping some swear words in the family car. A god fearing Catholic family car no less. Ah.. It’s a home run of a hit. Classic comedy. God.. so what happened? What did they say to you? I can’t imagine your mom was too pleased,” he chuckles again as he looks at her.

“Well,” she says smiling, turning her head to look out at the ocean, then back at him. “My sister was still vomiting, so that took precedence. I still had a firm grasp on Bill’s hair, and I wasn’t letting go. My mother looked at my father and he nodded. He caught my eye in the rear view mirror and I knew I was in trouble. I let go of Bill’s hair and put my hands in my lap, so worried about what was going to happen..”

As she continues the story, she remembers how she felt that day. How her father’s eyes had burned into hers. The nervousness she felt, her cheeks burning. When her father had started to pull over at the nearest rest area, her heart was pounding.

Her mother had jumped out of the car as soon as they stopped, to take care of Melissa and Charlie went crying with them. She and Bill sat in the car, while her father started rifling for something in the back of the car. He walked past her door and told her to come with him. Her heart dropped into her stomach and her legs felt like they were made of lead.

When she started to walk away, she had looked back at Bill. He was out of the car and leaning against the hood. He had given her such a condescending smirk, she almost flew at him. But, she had kept walking. Her father had walked past the view of the car. He sat on the curb and patted the space next to him. She knew this was it and she had to face the music. When she sat down, he didn’t look at her, but kept his head turned away.

She had felt sweat dripping down her back, her palms sweating, and her heart pounding. When her dad finally turned toward her, he had a huge grin on his face. She knew hers showed puzzlement. What was happening?

“Mrs. O’Malley, Dana?” he had said with a twinkle in his eyes.

“Mrs. O’Malley?” Mulder asks, bringing her back to the present. Lost in her thoughts of that warm day, she shivers slightly in the chill ocean breeze. He sees her body give an almost imperceptible shake. He hands her his shoes and takes off his jacket. As he wraps it around her shoulders, she smiles so tenderly at him, he feels his heart turn over. God, he loves her.

“You’ll be cold now,” she says, feeling his fingers brush her neck when he fixes the collar. She shivers and he pulls her toward him. He wraps his arms around her and holds her tight. He rubs his hands up and down her back, loving the feel of her body against him. She fits so perfectly in his arms, it’s as if she was made for him and him alone.

“Nah,” he says as he steps back to let her put the jacket on properly. He takes his shoes back and then reaches in the pockets of his jacket for hers, holding the small shoes on his long fingers. She slides her arms in the sleeves, which are much too long, but she doesn’t mind. The jacket is warm and smells of him. She loves the way he smells. A hint of the cologne she bought him for his birthday a couple years ago, laundry soap, and the scent that is just unmistakably Mulder. She takes a deep breath and looks up at him.

He is staring at her so intensely, she feels her heart stop. He lays his shoes across his palm, holding both their shoes in one hand. He traces his fingers down her cheek, then holds her neck as he leans down to kiss her forehead, her cheeks, her eyes, the tip of her nose. At last he kisses her lips, softly and sweetly.

She has leaned into him, gripping his shirt, her hands barely visible under his big jacket. His fingers rub her neck, dig into her hair. She opens her mouth and his tongue slides in, caressing hers. She slides her arms around his neck and stands on her tiptoes, crashing into his body. He wraps the arm holding their shoes around her waist, and pulls her pelvis to his.

She gasps into his mouth as she feels his arousal for the second time since arriving at the beach.

Someone wolf whistles as someone else shouts “OWWWW!” causing them to break apart. Both of them are out of breath as they turn to find the owners of the voices.

Approaching them is a group of teenagers. A gaggle of boys and girls walking in two sets. The girls are giggling, at them and at the boys who apparently had done the yelling. Scully turns back to Mulder and puts her head on his chest, mumbling “this is so embarrassing.”

Mulder doesn’t feel embarrassed, not in the slightest. It took so long for them to get to this point, he’d kiss her in front of Skinner if she allowed it. He is completely crazy about her. He grins like a fool at the childish outcry from the boys, but goddamn, he gets it.

He remembers that hormonal adolescent feeling, acting braver than you are, trying to impress a girl. Remembers it? Ha! He feels it every day. Trying to impress Scully, to get her attention. How many times has he acted as much a fool as these boys have done tonight? Making innuendos, asking if his boyish agility is turning her on, showing her a strip of condoms and saying “ouch.” He has behaved just like the boys did tonight.

Christ, she makes him feel like a teenager-hot and excited and acting like a fool, trying to get the prettiest girl to notice him. He grins and yells back to the boys, “Thanks!” as Scully whips her head up and looks at him with wide eyes.

The kids laugh again, but one of the boys bravely calls back, “She’s hot!” Scully closes her eyes and begins to turn around and tell them off, when Mulder chuckles. She turns back to him and looks at him incredulously. He is beaming.

“See Scully,” he says as he adjusts their shoes again and pulls her to him with an arm around her waist. “I knew it was remotely plausible that someone might think you’re hot.” He grins at her, his eyes alight.

She looks up in his eyes and thinks of the man he was the last time he said that to her. Young, disheveled around the edges, still finding himself. He’s grown, changed, become more cautious, more concerned for her wellbeing than his own. And yet here he is, laughing at teenagers whistling at them and calling her hot. She shakes her head and smiles. He may be an adult, but he’ll always hold onto some adolescent tendencies.

He kisses her again, quickly, before she can pull away from him. He steps back from her and turns to follow the group of kids, back to the stairs, toward the pier. He wants to go use that credit card again and he sees a ferris wheel on the pier. Hopefully it will stop at the top and they can make out like teenagers. First though, she has a story to finish.

“So?” he asks, reaching for her hand again, walking closer to the water. This is their last chance to do so; they are leaving tomorrow afternoon. As he feels the cold water splash him again, he looks at her expectantly. “Scully? So, who was Mrs. O’Malley?”

She looks up at him, confused. Then it hits her, she had been in the middle of a story before his kiss had left her reeling.

Scully laughs and then sighs. “She lived a few houses from us when we were on the base. She had eight kids, Mulder, eight, and she was pregnant with her ninth.” Mulder gives a low whistle and shakes his head. “They were all relatively close in age too. She had two sets of twins and they were little hellions. We played with the older kids, but they weren’t always nice. The parents had some crazy fights, woke the neighborhood. He was gone a lot and she was home with the kids. People didn’t have nannies and sitters, especially in base housing. So, it was pretty much just her and the kids.”

Mulder stops walking and drops her hand. He bends down to pick something up and Scully looks toward the group of teenagers. They stopped walking a little ways ahead of them and are now congregated close by. The boys are pushing at each other and making loud crude sounds. The girls are talking close to one another, twirling their hair and making eyes at the boys. What different creatures we are, she thinks. What odd mating rituals we go through to prove our worthiness to one another.

She is sure there is at least one love triangle in the mix of twelve. A girl that is too shy, a boy too overzealous, two girls in “love” with one of the boys, and a boy not ready for any of this so he reverts to childish antics. The same players for all eternity, yet every generation thinks they have it all figured out.

She smiles as she watches them, remembering many nights out, just like the one they are experiencing. She was a cross between too shy and simply inexperienced. She wanted to try, but wanted to be sure she could get it right.

As she watches them now, she can imagine Mulder at that age. Tall, lanky, most likely awkward, but wanting to play it off. Oh.. she spots a kid who could be Mulder’s younger self. He is cocky to the boys, he has some swagger, he’s acting out a bit, but she sees his eyes land repeatedly on one girl in particular. The girl doesn’t seem to notice, she’s watching the other girls. Learning their social cues. God, that could be her. She smiles. Yep, same players, different generation.

“So, exactly how does the youngish woman in the shoe factor into your car trip?” Mulder asks as he stands back up, putting something in his pocket.

Scully smiles at his nickname for Mrs. O’Malley, it definitely suited her. “A week before we left on our trip, they had a doozy of a fight. He got new station orders and they would be leaving right away. Usually time was given to find housing and placements for spouses. But there were special circumstances and they had to leave right away. It wasn’t his fault, he got his orders, he had to go. I can understand her frustration and her anger, though. Eight kids Mulder. With another on the way? Yeah, that’s bound to set anyone off.”

She shook her head and looked at the kids again. The boys were still acting up, but now were wrestling in the sand. Mulder glanced over too as he heard the girls shriek when the sand flew at them. He grinned and looked back at Scully. She rolled her eyes at him, but she smiled.

“So, a crowd had gathered outside their house as their fight reached a new decibel in volume. The kids had fled into the front yard and they were watching with scared interest. Their parents were always fighting, but not like that, it must have been scary. The whole fight culminated when she threw open the upstairs window and started throwing his clothes out the window. He was yelling at her to knock it off, that she was embarrassing him. She called him a son of a bitch and to never tell her what to do again. Her kids, down on the grass, heard her and began chanting “Son of a bitch, son of a bitch!” and running around the yard. I had never heard anyone say that before, and it shook me. My father put his hand on my shoulder and it startled me. I had no idea he was even home. He told us we should go back inside now, that this was not our business and we didn’t need to gawk at our neighbors. We didn’t talk about it, but the words stuck with me. When I yelled them at Bill, I just thought they were hurtful and mean words, not a swear. My father must have realized that was what happened and found it amusing. When he sat with me on that curb, he had laughed at what I said, but also talked to me about saying those words. But Mulder,” she said turning and looking at him with a watery smile. “What I remember about that trip is not the beaches we visited or the campgrounds where we stayed. What I hold so dear in my memories is that before my father talked to me that day, he had taken two Cokes out of the cooler in the back of the car. We weren’t allowed sodas when we were younger, but my father loved them. This was his stash of drinks and I got to have a whole can of it to myself. I had been so worried about his disappointment in me, but on that hot day, on a hot cement curb, my father laughed and shared something he loved with me.”

She has tears in her eyes at the memory of her father. How he had looked when he handed her that cold can of Coke and tipped his can to hers. The coolness of the can as they sat there together, not speaking, just sitting and enjoying the soda. He never got after her for pulling Bill’s hair or punching him. He knew Bill had started it by punching Charlie. His smile to her seemed to say he was proud of her for holding her own with her big brother.

Mulder smiles at Scully, as she sniffs away her tears. He is happy she has good memories of her father. Happy that she is secure in his love and pride of her. Mulder didn’t have the same happy family memories.. but that’s not a thought for now, he thinks with a shake of his head. Right now, her story has filled him with happiness and contentment.

He pulls her to him and holds her tight. “I’m glad for your memories, Scully,” he said into her hair, in that low voice that gives her the shivers. “Glad you grew up with brothers who challenged you to stand up for yourself. Glad you had a father who recognized that as a strength and not something to quash out of you. Glad you had a sister who tried to find truths and paths beyond your own beliefs, even if you didn’t agree. Glad you had a mother who cared for you and let you follow your path and didn’t dissuade you. All of that, all those factors, they made you who you are.”

He pulls back and holds her face in his hand, tipping her chin to look in his eyes. She has tears on her cheeks, but he knows these aren’t like the ones in the restaurant. She is smiling, her eyes shining. He strokes her cheek and kisses her lightly. He rests his forehead on hers.

“I don’t want to sound like a selfish asshole here Scully, but I think your past prepared you for me. For the whirlwind of the partnership we’ve had. For the challenges we’ve faced. For the times your beliefs in science and faith have been tested but you never faltered. For the people, especially men, who have thought of and treated you as less than. For the bosses who thought you would turn tail and run when you were partnered with me. You didn’t. You stayed. You have fought beside me and for me. Your presence in my life represented everything they wanted to try and destroy, but they never wagered on you being their downfall, and my uplifter. You were exactly what I needed. You saved me, Scully. A thousand times over.” He raises his head and looks into her blue eyes that pull at him like a magnet. “Thank you Scully. Thank you for saving me and being who I needed even when I didn’t know it myself.”

She breaks down as she wraps her arms tightly around his waist and hides her face in his chest. She doesn’t know how to respond to his beautiful words. He doesn’t say them looking for a declaration back. She rubs her face across his chest, as much to take a moment as to get rid of her tears. She pulls back and puts her hands on his face, bringing his lips to hers. She kisses him softly as she runs her nails across his neck, drawing him in.

She tries to put a promise in her kiss. A promise that she will always be there to uplift him, to fight for him, and be on his side. She wraps her arms around his neck, breaking from the kiss, and holding him close. She puts her mouth against his ear and whispers “Thank you, Mulder” before kissing his cheek, pulling back and smiling at him.

They stand there smiling at each other until they both hear the kids shrieking again. She shakes her head and sighs while Mulder laughs and looks down at his feet. Then above the noise, a girl calls to one of the boys, “I thought you said we were going to the arcade? Going to play some games?”

Mulder’s head snaps up. His eyes are wide and his mouth drops open. “An arcade, Scully?” He raises his eyebrows and smiles.

She smiles, shakes her head again, but turns to start walking toward the stairs and the possibility of an arcade. “Who knows Mulder,” she says with laughter in her voice. “Maybe there is some kind of first person shooter game, so you have the chance to get your ya-yas out.”

He laughs as he starts to follow her.

“Oh but Mulder,” she says, stopping and turning around. She looks at him with a twinkle in her eyes, as she places a hand on his chest. “If a Miss Jade Blue Afterglow shows up, I may feel the need to blast the crap out of something.” They both grin and she turns to keep walking.

He grabs her elbow and stops her. He steps in front of her, meeting her eyes. “She can’t hold a candle to you, Scully. Never could.” He reaches for her hand, locks their fingers, and squeezes. She gives him a radiant smile and he nods.

He turns toward the group of teenagers who are starting to walk away. “Hey!” He calls out to them. “Did one of you say something about an arcade?”

[alejaosbastardos]

On the Road

Summary: Ten years after the massacre at the border, Daniel’s life had changed a lot, the death of his father and brother, his escape to Puerto Lobos to start a new life, dragging a past that he could never leave behind. When Daniel decided that he would never see a familiar face again, the past and the present cross in his road.

Chapter 3: Reunion

Chris couldn’t see anything.

Everything around him was dark, he could feel in his shoes some small rocks that hindered his passage. Chris kept walking cautiously around the area and raised his arms to avoid tripping over something.

But suddenly, everything around him lit up.

Around it there was nothing more than barren land with huge rocks that looked like mountains that crossed the ground, in the center of the place there was a huge flashing lantern.

Mantroid?

Why am I seeing it after so long?

Chris blinked confused without understanding anything and kept walking towards the lantern.

Whispers began to sound around him. Chris turned back to see if anyone else was following him, but there was only a huge horizon filled with rocks and barren land.

The sky was gray and the temperature was very cold. When Chris thought he was going to be able to touch the lantern, a huge dark figure rose from the place and opened his red eyes that looked at him menacingly.

"Do you think you will be able to recover your friends?" Said the figure with a mocking tone. "You should accept that you lost them forever, I thought ten years were enough for you to understand that they won't come back to you."

"That's a lie," Chris whispered. "None of this is their fault."

"Do you really think so? Who would want to be friends with a brat like you?" He smiled maliciously. "A loser boy who only knows how to lose his loved ones, or should I remind you of how your mother died for wanting to buy the toy of her son."

"Shut up." Chris cried out loud. "Don't you dare talk about my mother, son of a bitch!"

"Oh Chris, look how scared I am about your threats." The figure responded mockingly. "I don't understand why Daniel saved your life that day, he is as useless as you, your father would be more relieved if you had died."

"I imagine being him and having the burden of my wife dying because my son's useless wanted a toy." The devilish figure was lamented. "What do you think about it? If you hadn't been born none of this would have happened.."

"Enough." Chris replied in distress.

"If the useless one of your friend would not have saved your ass that day, he might not have had to flee the police, and he would be with his grandparents at this time, and not being a fugitive from justice in Mexico."

"I said shut up!" Chris said punching the creature.

The devilish creature broke into Chris's arms and a dark laugh was heard all over the place.

"Chris, I'm not a mortal like you." Chris felt a chill on his back when he heard the creature's voice behind him. "I am everywhere."

And before Chris could face him he felt a blow to his head.

________________________

Chris woke up suddenly over his seat on the bus.

What time is it? He thought looking at his watch.

Saturday, August 8.

8:30 a.m

Chris leaned back in his seat and touched his aching head, a headache began to bother him after waking up startled. He hated nightmares, he stopped having them two years after living with his grandparents.

Chris looked at the window.

The landscape had changed, before he only saw only trees, now there is only desert.

“Estimados pasajeros, dentro de unos 20 minutos más vamos a llegar a Puerto Lobos, vamos a repartir el desayuno en este momento, y por favor, cuando lleguemos no olviden su equipaje.” A girl communicated through the microphone.

"Dear passengers, in about 20 more minutes we will arrive in Puerto Lobos, we will distribute breakfast at this time and please, when we arrive don’t forget your luggage." The girl repeated in english.

Chris would lie if he said he didn't felt nervous. He feels nervous about everything, meeting with Daniel and Sean after so much time, being in a country alone, not speaking the language.

Chris had taken Spanish classes in high school, and had been studying what was necessary before traveling to Mexico and yet, when he arrived at the Hermosillo airport he had felt lost, however, thanks to the paper delivered by the airline receptionist, he could explain to the taxi driver that he needed to go to the terminal to take a bus.

After spending the night in a hostel near the terminal, luckily the hostel the receptionist could speak English, buying the ticket to Puerto Lobos was another problem.

The employee at the bus terminal, only repeated that he didn’t speak English while Chris tried to explain that he wanted a ticket to Puerto Lobos. However, thanks to his cell phone he translated the sentence to copy it on a sheet paper and give it to him.

"Good Morning!" He was greeted by a girl. "Here is your breakfast, thanks for traveling with us!"

Chris took the breakfast and answered a "thank you".

"Estimados pasajeros hemos llegado a nuestro destino, muchas gracias por viajar con nosotros." The same girl communicated again through the microphone.

"Dear passengers, we have reached our destination, thank you very much for traveling with us."

__________________________

After Chris left the bus with his backpack and looked for his suitcase, he sat down on a bench in the terminal to eat the breakfast he had been given.

And now what?

Where can he start looking for Daniel and Sean?

The heat began to annoy Chris so he took off his coat.

What if he started asking about Daniel and Sean somewhere known?

What site was known in Puerto Lobos?

Suddenly Chris heard two people speaking in English beside him. It was a couple who were discussing where to visit before going to lunch.

"We should go to the beach and then eat at a restaurant where they sell seafood. You don't think so." A girl with blue eyes and blond hair said to her husband with brown skin and brown eyes.

"We should rest from the trip first baby"

"But it's 9:30 in the morning!"

"Umn... Excuse me.."

They both turned in the direction of the voice of the young man who spoke to them.

"Sorry to bother you, my name is Chris and it's the first time I've come to Mexico." The boy said it embarrassed.

The couple looked at each other and smiled at the boy.

"Are you only here?" The girl asked with a smile.

"Yes."

"But you look so young!"

"I'm 20 years old, I'm adult enough to travel alone."

The boy who was with the girl burst out laughing.

"Smart boy, where are you from?" Asked the dark boy.

"From Oregon, Seattle." Chris replied with a smile. "And you?"

"I am from Texas, Dallas." the blue-eyed girl replied.

"I was born in the capital of Mexico, but we currently live together in Dallas, we are on vacation for our honeymoon." The boy explained.

"My name is Sasha and his name is José, nice to meet you Chris!" The woman smiled. "How can we help you?"

"I'm looking for some crowded place in town, I need to find some old friends." Chris explained. "The problem is that I don't know where to start."

"Why don't you visit the town center?" José asked. "This town is very small, if your friends are here I don't think you have any problem finding them there."

"In addition it is the commercial zone of Puerto Lobos, any shop that you are looking for is there, the rest of the place are houses of the habitants." Sasha concluded.

Chris looked around the exit of the terminal.

"Here is everything super close amigo, walking from here to the center is 15 minutes, you just need your GPS on to not get lost." José replied as if he had read his thoughts.

Chris nodded.

"Thank you very much for your help, really." Chris thanked him sincerely with a smile. "I’m sorry for having bothered you"

"You're so cute." Sasha replied.

"I hope you are lucky in your little search, in the center of Puerto Lobos there are several good restaurants in case you are hungry." José advised him as he winked an eye. "Have fun, Mexico is wonderful."

Sasha said goodbye to Chris and took her husband's hand to address what looked like a small coffee shop in the terminal.

Chris turned on his cell phone and placed himself on the map through his GPS. His main reason here is to find Daniel and Sean, but he had brought his professional camera to take some good photos of the place.

And what better way than walking through Puerto Lobos?

___________________________

3:00 p.m

Chris has toured the entire shopping center of Puerto Lobos, he had forgotten to count the number of shops and places he had entered, he found Mexican craftsmanship super striking, there were many virgins, skulls and handmade hats.

But there is no trace of Daniel and Sean.

Chris's stomach began to growl and he was tired of walking so much dragging his luggage, so he decided to enter a small restaurant near the beach.

"Buenas tardes! Bienvenido a Don Cangrejo! Qué desea ordenar?” The waiter asked very animatedly.

"Emm, hola, yo no hablo español bien."

"Oh, wait a moment." He responded by withdrawing from the site to go to a brunette girl with black hair who was cleaning a table, he whispered something in her ear.

A few minutes later the girl approaches Chris with a smile on her face.

"Good afternoon! Please take a seat."

Chris sighed in relief knowing someone could understand him.

"What do you want to order?"

"Do you have crab soup please?"

"Anything else you would like to order?" She asked as she wrote down everything in a small notebook.

Chris shook his head.

"I will be right back a few minutes with your order."

"Thank you."

Chris felt sad and unmotivated, he had entered every place and asked people who understood English if they knew who are Daniel and Sean Díaz.

No one knew who he was talking about.

And what if Daniel and Sean were no longer in Puerto Lobos? If so, this trip had been a waste of time.

The idea of finding them again suddenly looked so far away again. Karen will be sad when Chris talks to her.

A sigh of discouragement escaped Chris's lips.

The girl who brought his food watched him curiously as she left his plate on the table.

"Hey, can I help you with something?"

"I don't think... I'm looking for someone." Chris replied.

"And what is the name of that person?"

"Daniel and Sean Díaz, do you know them? They came to this place 10 years ago."

The girl shooked her head.

"I've never heard that name, Sean... And well, there are many Daniel here, but I've never heard the last name here." The girl replied. "Sorry, are you sure they are here?

Chris took a sip of his soup, his hunger had suddenly taken off.

"I don’t know." He replied sad.

_____________________________

It was 4:00 p.m., Chris was walking near the street while dragging his suitcase, he didn't know what to do now, in a few hours it will get dark and he had no place to stay to sleep. The money he had brought was not much to afford great luxuries.

Suddenly Chris felt someone cover his mouth from behind and point him with something sharp to his neck.

"Shhhhh... tranquilo guerito." A man whispered from behind as he brought the knife to his neck. "Nobody here wants to hurt you... I just want you to give us that suitcase you are dragging."

Chris heard the laughter of other men, they were more than one he thought.

He released the handle of the suitcase and felt someone took it.

"So, I like that you are that kind of tourists, calm and obedient, you better not look back the next 5 minutes when I release you, or this knife will end up in your eye."

Chris raised his hands, the unknown man released and pushed him to the ground. He heard the footsteps of the gang members running away and tears of rage sprouted from Chris's eyes.

It was a bad idea to come here. he thought.

The sky still looked beautiful blue as the sun began to approach the coast.

Chris wiped away his tears and kept walking without knowing where he was going, he thought he should find a place to spend the night and then leave Puerto Lobos in the morning and go to the nearest airport.

Suddenly a person caught Chris's attention.

A boy who was on his back on the seashore was drawing in an old sketchbook, he looked thoughtful, absorbed in his thoughts.

Chris got a little closer to him to see the drawing, but before he could see it the boy with dyed hair closed the sketchbook.

Chris froze a little in the place thinking the boy had noticed his presence, but when he see that his gaze was lost on the coast, he sighed in relief.

This is the moment when I should walk away. He thought.

But the boy's side face looked miserable, as if he had lived the worst tragedy of his life..

Chris wanted to approach him and ask him what was wrong.

Silly idea. He thought, the boy looked dangerous, the best was to walk away.

But before he could keep walking, the dyed hair boy turned sharply to face him while looking at him menacingly.

Chris felt that his heart was going to leave his chest at any moment when their eyes met.

Daniel?

[displacedprincess]

y tú nunca juraste que saldría ileso || eleteo

Elena has a secret, and it’s time to tell Mateo.

Alternatively: McKala continues her tradition of titling Elena threads with a lyric of a Spanish song that only 12% fits because she likes the lyric 

@wizardroyale

ELENA

She’d known for a week she was pregnant. She was approaching three months pregnant by now, and now that she’d cried her eyes out to Naomi, discussed her options with her, and determined before anything she had to tell Mateo, it was time to do just that. God, but it was the last thing she wanted to do.

Naomi had, thankfully, cleared the apartment of everyone but Elena ahead of Mateo getting home from work which gave Elena enough time curl up in bed and panic over what she was going to say to him. In the end Naomi’s effort was fruitless and Elena had nothing nice and neat scripted. 

Elena had managed to stress cook. Not that shrimp fettuccine alfredo was fancy but it was something.

When the door opened, she was in the kitchen, portioning out two plates of her shoddy early dinner. “Mateo! I boredom cooked super early, you’re just in time for first dinner.” She hoped her plastered on smile was bright enough to hide how fucking terrified she was, but she should know better by now.

There was no hiding anything from a sorcerer, was there?

MATEO

It was a little after 3 o’clock in the afternoon when Mateo walked through the door, calling out a greeting to Elena. He’d immediately smelled the garlic in the air and knew that Elena had been cooking before she even had the chance to tell him from the kitchen. 

Before that, however, he had sensed the now familiar tension as he walked up the stairs. It had been clawing at his insides like a restless animal pacing for awhile now—anytime he was around Elena, actually. Between that and the Anxiety and Fear constantly swirling around her like a storm cloud behind the False Smile she wore, he’d been worried for her. 

He’d asked a few times if she was ok and had always gotten the same casual rebuff, so he’d decided to sit back and wait for her to tell him whatever was troubling her—whenever she was ready to tell him.

He grinned, dropping his backpack on the sofa before marching into the kitchen and catching her around the waist as he pressed a kiss to her cheek. “Ooh, that smells amazing, mi amor! I forgot to pack a lunch so first dinner sounds really good right about now.”

ELENA

Elena was very good at fake smiles. At the one year anniversary of her parents’ assassinations, she’d had to give a speech to Avalor honoring them and she’d be damned if she didn’t smile even while her heart was cannibalizing itself, was tearing itself into pieces. Right now, even her eyes almost looked like they believed the smile she wore.

At the kiss to her cheek, Elena did genuinely giggle. No amount of anxiety could make her love him any less and at least that bit of happiness she didn’t have to fake.

“Great, because I’m starving,” she said, bringing the plates and two forks to the table. She wasn’t all that hungry - throwing up almost everything you eat kind of makes you not want to eat - but having a fork and a plate of pasta gave her something to nervously mess with. 

She’d been careful not to eat anything she wasn’t sure was safe around Mateo since she found out she was pregnant. Elena wanted to be the one to tell him, not her stupid morning (terrible misnomer, by the way) sickness. 

“How was work? Didn’t get bitten by any clients?”

MATEO

Mateo loved it when Elena genuinely laughed, even if it was just a small giggle. Laughter was a sign of happiness and happiness meant he was doing his job as her boyfriend well. Truly, he wanted little more out of life than to make her as happy as possible.

Following her to the table he held a chair out for her, pushing it in before taking the seat beside her. He didn’t care how much she teased him for being silly or sappy, chivalry wasn’t dead and he would hold doors and chairs for her until the end of time. 

“It was fine,” he commented, swirling a few pieces of pasta onto his fork and taking a bite, “And nah. The clients all love me. I apparently have a calming presence or whatever.” He laughed, taking another bite before adding, “Mmmm! The shrimp alfredo is so good! Did you do something different this time? Like—I dunno, did you add more garlic, maybe?”

ELENA

Elena normally would’ve teased him, or at least acknowledged how sappy he was with a soft chuckle, but was such a mess of nerves all she could do was smile. It wasn’t fair that she’d kept it from him until this long, but at the same time...Mateo wasn’t the one pregnant. It was her body and she deserved a few days to sit with it and wrap her head around it for herself before telling him.

She’s only intended three, maybe four days, but it had been a week and she did think it unfair to let it get to eight days.

Still, the words weren’t coming and she wanted to talk about anything but that. Luckily he gave her an out.

“More garlic? Is it particularly garlicky? I haven’t tasted it yet, let me see.” Elena twirled some pasta onto her fork and stabbed a shrimp, pretty certain she’d be okay eating it. She’d eaten some pasta dish at work the other day with crab and didn’t throw up her guts, so! Shrimp alfredo had to be safe, right?

...right?

Wrong. Elena hadn’t yet swallowed her food before her stomach rejected it, doing its best to keep the offending food out, but Elena was like her father. King Raul and Elena shared the horrible habit of nervous-nausea, and Elena’d become an expert at willing herself not to throw up. The fear of the shame of vomiting on national television was a great motivator to just keep it down.

She wasn’t able to stop herself from heaving with a closed mouth though, clapping a hand over her mouth to keep from opening it. Elena swallowed hard, forcing her food down, and willed it to stay down.

“Fuck.” Elena mumbled behind her hand.

MATEO

Mateo did not miss the closed mouth heaving. He’d noticed she’d been nauseated a lot over the past few months—going back to their date on New Years eve—and every time he’d said something about it, she claimed to just be feeling under the weather. As if it were a lingering flu or something—a going-on-three-months-now flu. 

So when she covered her mouth with a muttered curse, he went on instant high alert. He had managed, however, to learn to remain calm during these instances—and that was progress, right? 

Instinctively, he reached over to place a comforting hand on her back and rubbed it gently, though worry sparked in his eyes. “Hey, you look like you’re going to be sick. You ok? Do you need help getting to the bathroom? Or I can grab the Tums? Some ginger ale? Whatever you need, just say the word.”

ELENA

Elena shook her head at everything Mateo suggested, keeping her hand clapped over her mouth. God, she really couldn’t deny it anymore, could she? 

“It won’t help!” Elena snapped, the pent up anxiety and tension just exploding. “It won’t help. I’m not sick, it’s- it’s worse. How can we both have been so oblivious, especially me? How did I not notice-”

She buried her face in her hands to hide her watering eyes. “I’m-” no, she should turn to face him. “I’m pregnant, Mateo. I’m pregnant.”

MATEO

I’m pregnant.

How could two little words have such a huge effect on one person. Ice coated his insides as a storm of thoughts and emotions burst into Mateo’s mind at those words. Shock. Fear. Panic. Worry. More fear. More shock. More worry. All of these emotions and more swirled in his mind as he stared unseeingly ahead, shaking his head in denial. 

Pregnant? Elena? How? When? Was it even possible? How long? Oh. My. God. What had he done?!

He was having trouble taking a breath as he tried to process the implication of what she’d just told him, though coherent thought alluded him. Did that mean that he—he being, Mateo—was going to be a dad? To a baby? With Elena? Oh. My. God.

A moment later, he snapped out of it, noticing Elena crying and realized that this had been the source of the fear and anxiety he’d been sensing coming from her. Words failed him as he scooted his chair closer and reached to wrap his arms around her and gently pulled her against his chest. 

“I—I don’t know what to say—” he finally managed to croak quietly, “Except that I’m so so sorry, Elena.” His own eyes filled with tears, stinging as he tried to blink them away, only managing to send them trickling down his cheeks. 

ELENA

Elena laughed mirthlessly and wiped at her eyes. Why was he crying? He’s not the one pregnant, she thought bitterly. It wasn’t fair to be so angry over his reaction because the logical part of her knew it was justified, but the emotional part of her was only thinking about herself. That was what made him a better person than her.

“Why are you apologizing, I’m the dumb bitch that can’t remember birth control pills.” Elena muttered, covering her face with her hand. 

“What are we supposed to do, Mateo? I can’t be pregnant right now. I can’t. I can’t, I can’t, and I’ve talked over all my options with Naomi and I can’t - I can’t think because I can’t wrap my head around it, and I want it to be a false positive but the hospital did a blood test and I really, really am like three months pregnant. Almost.”

MATEO

Why was he apologizing? Because he knew he was the dumb ass who had caused this, that’s why! It was all his fault, and he knew it! 

“Three months?” he echoed back in a hollow tone. He cast his mind back three months and that—that was right about the time they’d decided to ignore the doctor’s orders and just have sex anyways. And there was only one time in that time he could remember having completely unprotected sex—that very first time when they’d both literally lost their minds. 

He just—he needed to hold her, to help ground him and keep the panic at bay. He knew that as long as they were together, they could handle anything. 

But he also needed to look her in the eye, to tell her what he needed to say. So he pulled away, just enough to meet her gaze, keeping hold of her shoulders. He worried his lip, trying to find the words to say that might help and not make things worse.

Brushing a strand of hair from her eyes, he watched her with his eyebrows furrowed together, worried. “I—honestly don’t know? Just that, whatever we do, we’ll do it together. If you’ll let me, that is.”

He reached down and took her hands in his, saying, “I swear, I’m with you, Elena. Every step of the way, ok?”

ELENA

Elena shook her head and let it hang low as stray tears fell on their hands. She didn’t know what it was she wanted him to be there for her through, though. Yeah, she and Naomi had laid all her options out there on the table when they talked. They were both ardently pro-choice and Elena had not completely eliminated that option yet actually.

Still, not all of Avalor was on the same page as her and Naomi. Avalor was much less religious than the rest of Latin America, but Elena would have caused a scandal if she didn’t show up in public with an ash cross on her forehead on Ash Wednesday. Just ending the inconvenient, poorly timed, unwanted pregnancy would be her decision if she actually felt like she had the freedom to make the best choices for herself.

Elena wasn’t just Elena though. She was the rightful queen and deposed princess of Avalor. Every action even in secret could come to the public light even years later. Imagine the public shame if anybody found out.

So, no. Elena didn’t have a choice. Like it or not - and she hated her situation - she was pregnant, and going to remain pregnant.

“Having an abortion would cause a scandal if the hyper-Catholics in Avalor ever caught wind of it.” Elena said plainly, letting go of Mateo’s hands and holding her head high, blinking away the rest of her tears. “So that’s out even if I wish I could give it a fair shake as an option. If I was anybody but who I am, I would probably go that route.”

That wasn’t to say she didn’t want...she did want, one day, to marry Mateo and have children with him. Right now, while they were in exile from their home, was not the time. But Elena was not a woman whose body belonged to herself. As the first in line to the throne of Avalor, Elena was always expected to reproduce someday, and it was fortunate that Elena always knew she one day wanted to. 

As the ruling branch of the royal family of Avalor, the heir to the throne had two jobs. To prepare to rule with a fair hand, and to bear heirs to the throne. 

“So I have to have the -” she swallowed, unable to bring herself to say the word ‘baby.’ Not yet. “- I have to stay pregnant.”

Soon, when she was done processing what was happening to her life and to her body, she would be able to acknowledge it fully. As of now, she was still numb, still full of regret, and still felt so betrayed by her own body.

“That’s what is going on, so.”

MATEO

Having an abortion–– 

Now, Mateo was not the type to have an opinion on, let alone speak up about controversial topics the way Elena and Naomi were. The very idea of getting involved in such things filled him with anxiety to the point where he was useless and unable to function. Honestly, for the most part, he felt that most of those issues were best left to each individual.

Live and let live, right?

But when the word “abortion” came out of Elena’s mouth, directed towards her pregnancy––their unborn child that was part him––a fresh wave of sorrow, overwhelmed him. He didn’t know what to say, because of course it was her body and he had no say over what she chose to do with it. 

But their baby––the thought of never having the chance to meet them was upsetting to the point of tears. 

It was all so confusing. 

He loved Elena and wanted what was best for her, and their unborn child was part of her. Though, to a lesser extent, it was part of him too. He wanted Elena to be free to do what she needed to do for her own well being and happiness. But he also had this strange sense of wanting to do what was best for the tiny person that was growing inside her.

Regardless, he knew he would support whatever decision she made, even if it broke his heart.

And then there was the fact that she was doing that cold, calculating political thing she did whenever she talked about her position as ruler of Avalor. It made him crazy when she did that, when she put her own needs aside because of “the way it would look” to the idiots who had done nothing to help her since all of the political unrest began so many years ago.

“Just stop. Please.” he said, his tears drying up as he scowled, shaking his head. “This isn’t about what THEY think. They aren’t doing a damn thing to help you while you’re stuck in exile, so I don’t think they get a say in this. This is about what’s best for you and, to a lesser extent, what’s best for us. We’re the ones who have to live with our choices, not them.”

He sighed deeply and reached out for her hands again, giving them a squeeze. “Please, Elena. You know how I feel about the political image stuff. I get that its part of the “rightful queen of Avalor” package, but I don’t believe you have to do anything. You always have a choice. However, should you choose to stay pregnant, then I will be here for you every step of the way.”  He met her gaze evenly, determination sparking in his eyes as he insisted, “I’m not going to run away from this, I swear, Elena. I’m with you, always.”

ELENA

“Because they’re suffering more than me, living under a dictatorship! I forgive them, I do, even though there’s nothing to forgive.” Elena argued. “And you don’t understand. You don’t understand because you’re a commoner. You’re a private citizen whose life was always your own.”

Since her first breath Elena belonged to Avalor first, her parents second, and then herself. Her parents never said as much but her life experiences made that abundantly clear. 

Elena let out a cold, bitter laugh. “Sure, I have a choice. Nobody is holding a gun to my head. But neither option is ideal, so is it really a free choice? What’s best for me is undoubtedly to not be pregnant. But I don’t think you agree with me there. You don’t have to see reagents to see the face you just made. God, I should have just handled it on my own the second I knew and avoided this conversation, but now I’ve told you and — and now I can’t even look you in the eye and say I don’t want this. If you keep telling me I have permission to think selfishly then I might make the choice that’s best for me and I’m not convinced you’ll forgive me.”

She wriggled her hands from his grasp. “I never had an actual choice. My body belongs to the Flores royal family line. So I’m pregnant. And abortion is out of the question, so here we are, Mateo. Both on the most wanted list of a dictator and about to complicate things further.”

MATEO

At her words, Mateo flinched away with an audible gasp as if he’d been slapped, his eyes going wide and his brows knitting together as he stared, speechless. 

Really, if she’d wanted to hurt him, she’d found the perfect angle of attack—using his social status compared to hers against him. He knew all too well how common he was, and how not evenly matched he was for her. 

But then she started putting words in his mouth and making assumptions about his motivations and his eyes narrowed. 

“I think I’m starting to understand,” he said cooly, leaning back in his seat and crossing his arms as if to warm himself, “First, you think I’m too common and too stupid to understand your position—not that I’m surprised, I mean, I’ve always thought so, so why shouldn’t you? And now I’m apparently not important enough to have thoughts and feelings worth even hearing if you already regret telling me before taking half a second to listen!”

The volume of his voice increased as he spoke until he was nearly shouting. It was the strangest thing—he wasn’t one for yelling, and certainly not at Elena. But everything in his mind was still spinning and he did not know how to navigate this new territory. 

He pinched the bridge of his nose, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath, willing himself to calm down—and willing her to calm down while he was at it, hoping it would work. He didn’t want to be mad at her, he wanted to help—even if letting her lash out at him hurt. He had it coming, didn’t he? This situation was at least half his doing.

“Look,” he said, quietly now, choosing his words carefully, “I’m sorry. Forget I even said that. This isn’t about me. I said I would support you, no matter what you choose, and I mean it. Take that however you want.”

He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees and looking at the floor as he finished, “I just don’t want you to make a choice in either direction that you will regret, alright? And—I mean, like I said, its your body, your choice, right? But, if you want to know the truth, I will take a complicated life with you any day over a life filled with regret—because I’m not convinced you wouldn’t regret terminating this pregnancy later—wondering what might have been once its too late.”

ELENA

“Typical man.” Elena scoffed, not really meaning anything she was saying at this point. She was hurt and scared and when she was either of those things her instinct was attack, attack, attack with a poison tongue. 

“I wouldn’t regret it, because it would be the smart thing to do. I’m twenty-five years old Mateo, I think I understand my mind perfectly well. But.” She held up her hands and stood up from the table. “I told you I’m going to remain pregnant, so you don’t have to worry about it.”

She began to pace the floor, afraid she’d snap at him even worse if he touched her again, gave her comfort she didn’t deserve. 

“So I really don’t think we have to talk about it more.” They did. But Elena was trying to avoid it. 

MATEO

Typical man? His head snapped up at the barbed words. What the hell was that even supposed to mean? 

He watched her pace a moment, sympathetic. He couldn’t help but notice the way the venom coming from her mouth didn’t match with the reagents now swirling around her. She was scared and anxious and hurting and he knew that was a recipe for one angry wolverine of a princess. 

He made a split second decision, understanding that she was probably going to yell at him again, but also knew that she needed him—even if she was in 100% denial of any such thing.

Standing, he moved the few steps over to where she paced, folding her in his arms as soon as she turned around and held her tight. He didn’t have the words to fight and honestly didn’t think anything he could say would help. Actions would speak volumes where he couldn’t. 

He could feel her fear and tension pounding into him like a tidal wave, so hard it was almost painful and he struggled not to give into her frantic panic. He willed his magic to calm the fear, imagining it wrapping around her like a warm blanket or a hug. It wasn’t a skill he’d quite mastered yet, but he hoped it would help, if even a little. 

“It’s going to be ok, mi amor,” he murmured, so quietly it was almost a whisper, holding her close. “It’s going to be ok.”

ELENA

Elena made to throw Mateo’s arms off of her, but his presence that one second infuriated her just as quickly calmed her. Barely. She did not smile and she did not feel at ease but she didn’t feel like her heart was going to fly out of her chest. She didn’t want to lash out at Mateo anymore. 

She didn’t want to get away from him, and instead, wanted to be held. 

“You don’t know that.” Elena said quietly, almost a whisper. “But thanks for the sentiment.”

MATEO

Mateo sighed with relief when she neither pushed him away, nor did she yell at him. She relaxed ever so slightly in his arms, the raging storm of emotion receding a bit.

Perhaps the worst was over? He could only hope. 

“I do so know that,” he insisted, stroking her hair with on hand. “Because I know that as long as we have each other, we can handle anything that comes our way.”

Was that cheesy as hell? Yes. Yes it was. But he didnt’ think that made it any less true.

“Don’t get me wrong, I’m shocked and terrified and have no idea how to do any of this,” he continued, his voice shaking with emotion, “But, I feel a lot better knowing we’re doing this together.”

ELENA 

Elena would’ve called him cheesy and smiled had she been capable of either of those things right now. While she couldn’t yet smile at or tease him, her white hot anger was still keeping its distance, and her anxiety was replaced with an uneasy calm. 

A numbness. 

“I really, really do appreciate that you’re trying to say things to make me feel better. And maybe you mean them, I know you mean them, but I’m just not able to believe them right now. Do you understand?” Elena said, apologizing with her facial expressions and tone but not with the actual words ‘I’m sorry I’m pregnant and not happy.’ 

“You have to understand that I am dealing with a lot right now. And so are you, I know that, but I’m the one—” she swallowed. “— I just want you to know that I appreciate you trying to make me feel better. I’m not going to feel better today but thank you for trying. Can we… can we give up on trying to make me feel better for today? I do feel better than I did an hour ago. But I think that’s the best we can do for today.”

She laced her fingers with his and did manage a thin smile. 

MATEO 

The truth was that Mateo hadn’t been aiming for sunshine and roses. Really, he wasn’t so foolish as to think that anything about their current situation was going to be easy and nothing but time would bring peace. 

If he was being honest, he was terrified and felt the old self loathing and guilt creeping in with whispers of “I told you so,” and “Look what you did, you’ve hurt her” and “They’d all be better off without you.” It took every ounce of courage and determination that he possessed to keep telling that voice to shut the hell up, and this was not about him. Elena needed him and he would be there for her. 

He could sense Elena’s panic and rage had receded, and that was enough for him. 

Returning her smile with a nod and a tiny smile of his own, “I understand,” he said quietly, “I won’t say another word about it until you want to talk.” He glanced around to the living room and their bedroom door beyond and then back at her, asking, “I think we could both use a quiet afternoon—how about a nap? Or maybe we could watch a movie on the couch? Or—” he cringed, shooting her an apologetic look before finishing, “If you don’t want to be around me right now, I—I understand. I can take the couch if you want to be alone in the bedroom.”

ELENA

“I wish I could sleep for weeks.” Elena lamented, burying her face in Mateo’s chest. 

Elena closed her eyes and just stood there pressed against him. She stayed safe in his warmth for a moment before sighing and figuring it was time to use words again.

“You can nap with me.” She said quietly. “I’d like that.”

MATEO 

A sigh of relief escaped him as she rested in his arms, perhaps not the same as always because this moment felt so big, like they were standing on the edge of a completely different unknown than any they’d faced before.

But she didn’t hate him for what he’d done to her and so long as that was true, he believed they would find their way.

He held her and petted her hair, more than willing to just be there in the moment as long as she needed him to be.

At her words, he simply smiled and nodded quietly, murmuring, “That sounds perfect,” before taking her hand and tugging her to the bedroom. He kicked his shoes off, pulling off his hoodie and jeans and slipped under the blankets, pulling the covers back to wait for Elena to join him. 

ELENA 

Elena couldn’t say anything. She was afraid if she did she would yell at him again and say things that she didn’t mean like “you wouldn’t understand, you’re a commoner.” The C-word wasn’t fair. It was too harsh.  

She curled up next to him and laid there in silence for so long that she thought he’d fallen asleep by the time she craned her neck up to look at him.

“Mateito. Are you asleep?” Elena whispered. A beat. “I shouldn’t have accused you of not understanding. I know how thoughtful you are and how much you think of me.”

MATEO 

Mateo was not, in fact, asleep. His arms had curved naturally around her when she snuggled up to him and he’d been lying there with his cheek resting against the top of her head. There were too many thoughts and worries and questions plaguing him and his chest far too tight to actually find sleep, but having Elena so close had brought a small amount of calm to the storm in his mind.

“Hmmm?” he murmured quietly, smiling a little at the familiar, childhood nickname. “Oh, don’t worry about it. I get it, you were upset. And maybe you’re right. I don’t understand the royal obligation thing as much as I should, seeing as I’m dating literal royalty.” He shrugged. 

“But I will always try to make sure you, Elena Flores, the woman I love, are taken care of first and foremost—even before our people. Because if I don’t look out for you, who will?” He said this matter-of-factly as he kissed her hair and tightened his arms around her.

ELENA

Elena craned her neck to press a kiss to his cheek and then buried her face in the crook of his neck. She did not feel like everything would be okay, no, but she felt a little bit better knowing that Mateo was in her corner no matter what. Not that she actually truly worried he wouldn’t be - this is Mateo she was talking about! - but the explicit verbal confirmation was a comfort.

“I forget, sometimes. That I’m a person, and not just an extension of the royal institution.” Elena admitted as she stayed pressed against his warmth. “Keep looking after Elena the Person, because Elena the Princess has enough people over her already.”

She exhaled through her nose and closed  her eyes. “Thanks for letting me have time to...sit with you and this information and let it really sink in. We can talk about it more tomorrow, but for today, just. Thank you. Thank you, Mateo. For being kinder than I deserve.”

MATEO 

Finally starting to feel a little drowsy, he held her a bit closer, resting his cheek against the top of her head and murmuring a simple, “You’re welcome.” A yawn slipped out as he added, “Te amo, Elenita, and I’m here for you. No matter what.” 

In spite of the whirlwind of emotion still going on in his mind, he closed his eyes and snuggled down under the blankets, feeling warm and sleepy with the woman he loved in his arms. Though he knew their lives would never be the same from that moment on, at the same time, it felt like nothing had changed. They still loved each other and they were in this life together.

He knew deep in his gut that even though nothing felt like it was ok in that moment, as long as they had each other, everything would somehow work out in the end.