#fixating on the pride of the victory he also senses but wants to beat to the ground and *quickly* before it fully consumes him

[mc-critical]

2.02 (26) / 2.16 (40)

[first-and-last-neocount]

Whumptober Day 2

So much love to @theobscurepotato and @peregrinealpha, you guys are fantastic and I really appreciate the support, it means the world to know that I’m not the only one excited for this! <3

I have no excuse for this one. Pretty sure this is the purest definition of an id fic, because it just kinda wrote itself, and when I was done and went back to read over it the front of my brain was like ‘what the hell did I just create’ and my lizard brain was purring ‘yesss, good’ like goddamn Palpatine. This is definitely not a scenario that I think would actually have happened in canon, but apparently it’s a scenario my brain wanted to play with, and I definitely do blame it on Gerald canonically having way too much fun needling Damien for no obvious reason other than for the sake of winding him up. 

Much like day 1, this is right in the grey area where I wasn’t sure whether to tag it NSFW or not, but I’m erring on the side of caution because I’d rather be overly conscientious than not. I also wasn’t entirely sure how to word the content warning tags, so I tagged it for general self destructive behaviour, because uh - what Gerald is doing here is not how to have a healthy relationship, kids. This is ‘personal experience with adolescent trauma’ meets ‘horrifically bad coping mechanisms’ with a dash of ‘really really warped views on intimacy’. This is also a consent nightmare, because Damien is not aware that Gerald is intentionally provoking him. Please do not try this at home. 

Day 2 - Theme Chosen: Choking

Gerald Tarrant wasn't above using deception to further his own interests, but he preferred evasion to direct falsehood, and he certainly wasn't in the business of lying to himself. Thus, he was well aware of why he was engaged in his current endeavour – that being, inciting yet another argument with his companion, intentionally goading the priest he'd spent the last few months travelling with into a heated debate over the fate of the little girl they'd unintentionally absorbed into their group after encountering the Terata. The part of his mind that was coolly analyzing his actions, though, was smaller than the part which was focusing on the argument itself.

Both of those part combined were smaller still than the part of his brain that was fixated on what the priest's hands would feel like closing around his throat.

“For the last vulking time, I am not just abandoning her!” The Knight's fraying patience finally snapped, and the bulkier man took a step toward the adept, his eyes blazing. He was only letting go this much because Jenseny was well away from the cave that was currently their refuge, gathering sticks with Hesseth to make a fire; the rakh-woman had sensed the building tension, and had deliberately taken the girl out of the way so that the two men in the group could clear the air.

“I don't care if you think it would be easier, I promised to keep her safe -”

His hands were clenched into fists at his side, the force of his indignation expressed through the whitening of his knuckles, the corded tension in his arms as he held himself back from violence. Gerald fired back a retort on autopilot during an appropriate pause in the priest's rant, his own manner cool and detached, his mask of indifference firmly in place despite his mental preoccupation. God, the strength in this man – Damien Vryce was a fighter, and the proof of that was in every line of his body, the broad stretch of his shoulders and the thick muscle that layered his naturally-sturdy frame. His hands were large and strong-boned, the skin tanned and weathered by years of travel, thickly calloused by the tug of leather reins and the hilts of weapons. Fae-augmented healing or not, if Vryce hit him, it would hurt. It would leave a mark, at least for a while.

It would feel real, in the way things rarely did now, isolated as he was by his own carefully crafted cocoon of power.

The words of a past lover drifted through his memory, that long-gone voice dripping with disgust. You're pathetic. So desperation for attention, you don't even care what it looks like. I could make you bleed and you'd say 'thank you', wouldn't you?

“Are you even listening to me?”

Gerald snapped back into the present moment fully, his unnaturally slow heartbeat accelerating a little as he registered the building fury in Vryce's voice. His lack of attention had been noticed, it seemed, and the priest's handsome face was turning an alarming shade of red as his temper swelled. Pride simmered in Gerald's chest at the reaction he'd provoked from the normally level-headed man, satisfaction slithering through his veins even as he replied in a deliberately bored tone.

“It's not as if you're saying anything you haven't said before, Reverend. Given the intensity of our pursuit, the girl would likely be safer out of our presence than in it. Regardless, though, it comes back to the same point; our goals are too important, we can't allow ourselves to be sidetracked by one insignificant chi-”

He read Vryce's intentions through the fae before it happened, the sudden resolve bleeding off the priest in an unmistakable wave of crimson, but his own surprise at finally eliciting such a concrete and visceral reaction kept Gerald from responding in time – not that he knew, necessarily, what response he might have tried to make. In a single smooth movement, the Knight grabbed Gerald's shoulder with one hand, shoving him forcefully backward while the other settled around Gerald's neck. As the Hunter's back slammed into the rough stone of the cave wall, Vryce pinned him there, leaning in as he snarled out his words in a voice gone guttural with rage.

“Don't you dare call her insignificant.”

The vitriolic reply he would have given in any other situation died unspoken as Gerald's usually turbulent mind went utterly, blissfully quiet, only a single line of thought remaining to him.

Yes. That's it. Do whatever you want. Hate me.

Hurt me.

Just don't let me go.

A dark and twisted lesson it might have been, but Gerald had learned one truth of human nature early in life, and had never forgotten it even as centuries passed. People were more than happy to lie and cheat their way through life, and would deceive you at every turn; you could so rarely be sure of  where their real intentions, or attentions, might lie. They could talk, laugh, eat, fuck, and at every moment their thoughts could be elsewhere – but not when they wanted to hurt you. If they were that angry at you, no distractions existed.

Once you drove them over the edge enough to put their hands on you, you were the only thing in the world that mattered.

Gerald tipped his head back against the unyielding stone behind him, just to feel the way Vryce's hand was clenched around his neck a little better; he didn't technically need to breathe to sustain himself, but he was reeling and lightheaded nonetheless, from the heady mixture of triumph and adrenaline pumping through his veins. A sensation of mingled horror and satisfaction, so deep it made him nauseous, made him swallow reflexively against the way his mouth flooded with saliva in response – and then swallow again, when Vryce's grip tightened on his flexing throat, strengthening the whirl of emotions in his mind until Gerald felt a very real stab of fear that he might actually faint.

All of it lasted, however, for only the briefest moment.

He could see it as the Knight came to his senses; their faces were only inches apart, wide grey eyes staring into burning hazel, and he saw the exact instant that the blind haze of fury fell away and Vryce realized how far he'd lost control. A wave of horror doused the smouldering blaze in those warm green-and-brown irises, and Vryce wrenched himself away, his hands going lax and falling back to his sides as he stared at the Hunter in horror.

“I'm – I didn't mean – hell!”

Gerald drew in a ragged breath, now bracing himself against the cave wall intentionally as his head spun; there was a vague sense of loss echoing in his mind, but far louder was the roar of victory, the greedy hunger in his chest transmuted to a throb of purring satisfaction.

Yes, I can hold you, I can draw your focus, I can make you care...

Careful this time to show nothing of the emotional tempest in his mind, Gerald lifted one hand to rub lightly at his no-doubt-bruising neck, casting the Knight a sardonic glance.

“Don't flatter yourself, Reverend,” he muttered, with a icy steadiness that he most certainly did not feel. “I assure you, if I felt you posed a genuine threat, you would never have gotten that close to me. You couldn't truly hurt me if you tried.”

At least, not when I can make you look at me with that much fire in your eyes...

Vryce seemed to have registered his words as the subtle threat Gerald had meant them to be taken for, though, if the priest's thoroughly shaken expression was anything to go by. He opened his mouth as if to speak, then hesitated for a long moment, looking deeply conflicted and vaguely sick. Finally, he shook his head sharply, and bit out a curt few words.

“It won't happen again.”

With that proffered statement – surely meant to be reassuring, or perhaps pacifying, for no doubt he assumed the Hunter was furious about Vryce's presumption in laying hands on him – the priest turned and strode hastily out of the cave. Gerald stayed where he was, hands splayed out against the cold rock behind him, feeling his pulse beating forcefully in his throat as he closed his eyes.

Oh yes, it will. If that's the only way I can have your hands on me, I'll make sure it does.

[a-shakespearean-in-paris]

Matrimonial Bliss

This is chapter 29 of my Modern AU longfic, but you can pretty much read it by itself. Newlywed, first time smut with Cullen and my gal Lydia Trevelyan:) Smut. NSFW. 

Pinned beneath him on their wedding bed, her light but needy touches froze at his words, I’ve never done this before.

He had never done it before?

And therein was her folly. He misunderstood.

Tentatively, ashamed, he moved off of her. “Cullen!” She exclaimed, rising from the bed and following him as he sat at the edge of the bed. With his back toward her, on her knees she wrapped her arms around him, buried her face in the crook of his neck. Her hand rested over his beating heart. He covered her hand with his, and therein was some softening, some victory.

“I was only surprised,” she assured. “That’s all. Why didn’t you tell me before?”

“I don’t know,” he replied with a sigh, though there was only a small semblance of defeat. “I…it was embarrassing I suppose.”

“It’s not embarrassing at all.”

“Well, I’ll be honest. Never really had the interest. Never dated really.”

“You’ve never liked anyone before?”

At his silence she sat by his side on the edge of the bed. Even as flushed and embarrassed as he was, he was a vision, with mussed hair and swollen lips from their previous kissing, and lightly stained with her red lipstick. Certainly, the two of them were making up for lost time.

She would have waited as long as he needed, but it was only a moment after she partook in her own version of the female gaze when he admitted he had one crush in his entire life, at the Circle before he came to Kirkwall, but he didn’t elaborate and she sensed he didn’t want anymore of that discussion in their bedroom on their first night of matrimony. Out of respect, she didn’t pry.

“But that was nothing, compared to this,” he admitted. “This is…you’re…” His eyes fixated on her lips, and she knew to him, she was extraordinary.

She would have wanted him even if it wasn’t new. She would have wanted him no matter what. Kicking off her shoes, she rose from the bed, standing in front of him. She took his hands in hers, and he too rose to his full height. This was one of her visions and fevered imaginings before he ever asked her to marry him, she remembered with the tiniest of smirks. The two of them, standing in front of a bed, their eyes dancing across each other’s bodies in a prelude dance before a dance of another sort began. But before, she could never have imagined the full richness of his amber eyes that were wide with desire, or the way he bit his lip to quell his want. She could never have imagined how warm his hands would be, or that she would take a Cullen with a scar across his lips, rough under her tongue, received after he defended her. Nor could she ever imagine that he would want her to make the rules.

Oh yes. He waited for her, ardently so, to move to kiss him, move to undress either herself or himself. She could be theatrical, grand and too much, so she threw her arms around him and lightly caressed his cheek with the back of her fingers. If he wore a tie she would have grabbed it, but instead she undid more buttons on his shirt as well as the suspenders he wore to their wedding, and skimmed the tip of her finger down as she went, the golden hair their tickling. He smirked, and she heard him inwardly call her a minx, a wildcat, his.

“How do you want it?” she asked, her voice like sugar.

“Anyway,” he said without hesitation.

She didn’t expect that. “Do you know what you’re asking?”

“Are you patronizing me?”

He spoke with laughter in his voice, and she returned it with the most daring thing she had done yet snake her hand down below his waistline, though she was tentative at first, light. When he responded with pulling himself closer, feeling his want against her belly, she squeezed his arse. He burst into a fit of giggles, burying his head in the crook of her neck.

“I wouldn’t dare,” she replied. “Just want to make you happy.”

“I am. Are you happy?”

“Happier if you kiss me.”

He obliged, capturing her lips, letting them fall to the bed, even though he was very vocal about wanting their clothes off, tugging at the satin straps of her gown. Asking her to hold on, he unbuttoned the rest of his shirt, dexterously throwing it to the ground in only a brief moment that broke the flow of kisses and caresses. Back on top of her, her eager hands glided across his bare shoulders and back, and he pressed deep kisses to every part of her face, every part of skin that her dress didn’t cover. He would have been content to kiss her all night she thought, as kissing was so new to them, and yes, it would have been enough for her.

But Maker. She ached, she longed.

And the night was only just beginning.

“Cullen,” she whispered in his ear. “Lay down.”

“Hmm?”

She repeated, “lay down.”

“Why?”

She laughed—a stubborn one he was, kissing her neck, but she was just as stubborn. “Because,” she said, “you should feel good.”

“I do feel good.”

“Cullen, let me take care of you. Take care of me all you want later, but now…let me. Please.”

He answered her by doing what she wanted, laying down, propping his head on a pillow. He was half undressed, while she was still in her white gown, though he had done a decent job of pulling down the straps. She left them there, as a treat.

“Lydia…”

“Shhh,” she bade, stroking his forearms, his abdomen, the line of his trousers, his clothed cock. He shivered, but still she asked if it was alright. Biting his lip, he nodded. When he was at last bare after pulling off his trousers, laying on the bed, and she was bedside him, letting the silk dance of her dress dance across his skin, she hovered on top of him, sinking down on his cock, regretting she didn’t get a better look beforehand. He gasped at the feel of only this, partially because even though he wasn’t inside yet she was still encasing him, partially because he was surprised that she wasn’t wearing any undergarments. Of the last point, he admitted it with a chuckle.

“I took them off when we came in,” she offered as a secret. “They were uncomfortable.” She let him in on another secret. “I’m also not wearing a bra.”

“Shame, I don’t get to see.”

He was already gripping her hips, moving along with her gentle movements. This was a first for her, she had never sat on a man’s thighs before with the intention to ride, and it took more thigh strength than she realized. But with each movement, there was a sweet ache, and the image of him. He threw his head against the pillows, and she quivered, her wetness bleeding onto him. Flushed, amber eyes peaking up at her, he nodded.

“Lydia,” he begged.

She took his tip, and then all of him at once. She cried out—for her it had been a long time and he was deep and fully encased. He asked if she was alright, said he didn’t mean to hurt her.

“You didn’t hurt me,” she promised. “It’s just…”

“Am I big?”

He had a smile of masculine pride. “Perhaps,” she offered, before telling him the truth, “yes.”

“Do you need to get off, or…?”

“No. I want to see you.”

It took a few moments of sweet torture, Cullen gripping her hips before Lydia took Cullen’s hand, kissing his palm. Maker she loved his hands—strong as they were and rough but not unpleasant. They were lived hands. Hers.

One more kiss to the palm, and then she moved.

He wasn’t a quiet lover. He didn’t even attempt to quiet his moans as she sank on top again and again. It inspired her to cry out, even as she craved more and began to touch herself. He became mesmerized by her own fingers, eyes trailed were she gathered up her skirts, and she hadn’t touched herself in so long that she had herself coming within near moments. And then Cullen came too, moments after her climax faded and he rose to kiss her. He came with their arms wrapped around one another, their lips barely touching. He was still so flushed, eyes sheepish even.

“I shouldn’t have."

“It’s alright,” she promised. “We talked about it earlier, remember? I’m on the pill.”

He didn’t say anything for a moment, but he did tug at her hair, study her lips and eyes with intensity. And Maker he was still inside.

“Thank you,” he muttered sweetly.  

Their foreheads touching as they floated along, she kissed his damp temple. Angling herself off, mourning the loss that was at first too much, the two of them positioned themselves on the bed, Cullen wrapping an arm around her as she curled to his side. As she wondered if she should take off her dress, she peeked at him. He was still smiling, and would stay smiling until he fell asleep.

But before he did, she asked him about something he muttered earlier, when they first entered their bedroom in matrimonial bliss. She was standing by the window, looking at the lake outside. He chuckled at first, before explaining that he muttered “Cliodna,” to himself.

“What’s that?” she wondered, and he explained Cliodna was a character from old Ferelden legends, an Avvar priestess who roamed the world, searching for her lover. When he was little, his mother used to read him the story.

“You looked like her then,” he said, before amending it to “you look like her,” and she beamed with a strange pride. She reminded him of a childhood hero, a figure of his dreams. It was something she never thought she would want a lover to think, but everything she ever dreamed.

She put her hand against his beating heart, kissing him lightly. She could get used to those kisses. But he muttered something that surprised her, “I should have made you feel good too. And oh, her dear Cullen, the man she chose to marry, the man she wanted to marry.

“You did,” she promised. “You do.”

And, she thought before she drifted to sleep, there would be plenty of time for him to do all the other things he wanted.

a/n: sometimes smut is awkward, especially a first time, so I wanted to portray that.

[serendipityjxmn]

I Hate You, Park Jimin!

Chapter 3

Words Count: 2.7k

TW:

Link to Chapter 2

Link to Chapter 4

I was done with classes for the day. I glanced at my watch. Ah Young should be done by this time too. We had the same class this morning but she had taxation classes just now while I took financial reporting. I texted her but there was no reply so there I was standing awkwardly in front of my locker looking at my empty phone.

I sighed as I looked up. About 3 metres away, I noticed a familiar back, Park Jimin. He was at his own locker, and seemed to be forcing his books into his locker. Beside him leaning against the locker was Kim Taehyung, his ultimate best friend and absolute partner in crime. He too had the divine visuals, perfectly sculpted features. Damn those jawlines. A combination of Park Jimin and Kim Taehyung were very dangerous.

At that moment, Kim Taehyung’s eyes flickered at me. I froze. Is it possible that Kim Taehyung can read minds? Then he looked at Jimin. He said something and there’s a high probability that it was about me because Jimin stopped whatever he was doing and turned around, his eyes finding me.

My eyes widened. Shit. Thank God I was saved from the embarrassment of staring at the two Godly handsome men by Ah Young running towards me.

“Hana!” She said as she flung herself towards me, breathless. “I’m sorry I was late! I got called by Professor Kay on my essay.” She rolled her eyes as she opened her locker door and stacked her books inside.

“It’s fine,” I said. My whole body still tensing because I was unsure whether Jimin was still staring at me. I sneaked a peek. And yes- I regretted it instantly. My eyes met his. Immediately I looked down at my shoes.

“Hana-ya.” Ah Young nudged me.

“Hmm?” I said without looking up, pretending to be particularly interested in my shoes today.

“Hana.” She called me again.

“Hmmm..”

“Park Jimin is staring at you.” Her voice went serious.

As if my whole body could get anymore stiffer. “No, he’s not.”

“He. Is. Coming. Here.”

“What?” I looked up and momentarily I thought I forgot how to breathe as Jimin made his way towards me.

Suddenly I felt a firm hand clasped my elbow and the last thing I saw before I was whisked away by Jimin was Ah Young’s shocked expression with her mouth wide open. He steered me away for a good five minutes and I could see other students turning twice at the sight of us. He pulled me into an empty lecture hall and after closing the door carefully behind him, he turned around to face me.

Wait, I was mad at him right? So I put up the coldest expression I could.

He cocked his head to one side and I swear he looked so hot. I cursed my own brain as I felt my anger evaporated effortlessly. “You’re bad at being angry.” He smiled in amusement.

I snorted. “What do you want Park Jimin? I don’t think we have any business with each other anymore.”

“Let’s do it.”

What? My eyes went round. “What did you say?”

“I said let’s do it.” He calmly repeated.

I regarded him for a moment. Was he trying to pull a prank on me? “Why?”

“I need to graduate and there’s nothing for you to lose I guess.”

I considered his point. It was true, there was nothing for me to lose. The amount of money offered to me as mentioned by Ms Choi was lucrative. Triple the amount I earned from my part-time job at the cafe. Does Jimin know about my financial situations? I mean, I can live by but it would be nice to have savings or being able to afford nice gifts for my mom. But I wasn’t going to let him get his way so easily. “No thanks.” Before turning on my heels and making my way out of the lecture hall, I could see his shocked and confused expression. Oh, how I want to picture and savour the image of shocked Jimin forever.

The next morning I woke up feeling content. As I brushed my hair, I smirked as the image of shocked Jimin crept into my mind. The rude, obnoxious, vain, self-centred and full of himself Park Jimin. Park Jimin, THE bad boy. And to think that I somehow managed to put a shock expression on that Godly features of his face.

I arrived at the campus feeling giddy. I don’t have the same classes with Ah Young this morning so I was saved by her infinite inquisition, for now.

As soon as I was done filling my bag with the next subject’s books, someone shut my locker door. I looked up to see Ah Young. She crossed her arms.

“What?” I said, feigning innocence as I turned on my heels. I knew what was coming.

“Oh no girl. You’re not running away.” She blocked my path.

I rolled my eyes in exasperation. “What?”

She threw me an incredulous look. “You need to spill the tea, sister! You and Park Jimin. What is going on?” She was almost half screaming and her hands were now on both side of her waist.

“Oh my god- keep it low!” I glared at her as I glanced sideways, making sure no one was paying attention to us. I dragged her to the cafeteria and chose the furthest seat available away from any other human in existence. Then I told her everything. I was dead serious but I almost couldn’t suppress my laugh each time Ah Young ‘oohh’ and ‘ahhh’ at the appropriate time.

“What the fuck?!” She was literally hyperventilating.

I nodded as if saying ‘I know right.’

“Oh my god! I can’t believe it. This is your chance to get into his dick!” She shrieked while vigorously tapping the table.

My eyes widened. “Ah Young!!!” I glanced around. Thank God no one had their eyes on us.

She seemed oblivious to my state of panic. “What? Don’t tell me you don’t have a slight crush on him? He’s a fine piece of ass.” She stared into space dreamily. “I wonder how rough he is in bed.”

“Oh My God!!” I quickly clasped my hands on her mouth, afraid that she would drop another bomb. Trust my best friend to be this straightforward.

“Hhvgrnkk-“ Her voice muffled below my hands.

I chuckled but released my hands anyway.

“But I said no to him.”

At this, her mouth went agape. “Are you kidding me?”

I shrugged. “He was getting too cocky! I am sure as hell not going to feed his ego.”

“You can’t be serious! You have this golden opportunity to get his dick and you’re throwing it away just like that?”

“You’re making me sound like a slut. Girl, it’s just a study session.”

“I know. But it can always evolve to something else.” She winked at me.

“Yah!” I wanted to hit her but she was quicker. She stood up and ran away, laughing.

Days passed and every single day I caught Jimin trying to catch my gaze. He seemed pissed off that I’ve been trying extra hard to avoid any eye contact with him. Ah Young kept telling me to stop my act already though. Apparently I am throwing my chance away of getting into the divine man that he is, Park Jimin’s pants. I ignored her every single time. I smiled satisfactorily. This is my victory.

I was happily skipping my way out of Ms Choi’s room after I submitted my assignment that evening when I felt my wrist being pulled by someone and the next thing I know I was in an empty lecture hall.

“What the-“ I almost cursed when I saw Jimin pushing me against the door. The close proximity was making my breath uneven. Park Jimin with orange hair was illegal.

“So you thought it was fun to test me?” He said, his voice low. His hands on both side of my head. His face inching closer to mine.

“W-what are you going to do?” Damn it, I stuttered. I looked away.

“I’ll show you how fun it is to test me.” His tone laced with threat. I gulped. What is he trying to do?

He inched closer and closer. When I felt like he wouldn’t stop, I mustered as much courage and pushed his shoulders away while closing my eyes.

To be frank, I was scared of his next action. But I didn’t sense any movement so I slowly open my eyes and I saw Jimin blinking at me. His face confused as he stared at my palms on his chest and back at my face.

“I-“ I began but no words came out. I felt my cheeks reddening and I pulled my hands away.

He smirked. “I haven’t even laid a finger on you and your face is already this red.” To my relief, he backed away. “So, I guess if you don’t want anything of this sort happening again, I suggest that you accept the proposal.”

I considered saying yes, I really did. But my pride just won’t let me especially when he tried to threaten me with what-? Trying to touch me? Park Jimin is indeed a jerk. So, naturally and firmly, I replied, “No.” My pride stood up, clapped loudly and bowed with a flourish. I smirked at him and turned on my heels immediately.

Days after that, I think Jimin had sort of gave up trying to earn a simple ‘yes’ from me. I couldn’t care less. I was happy enough that he practically had to beg although obviously he didn’t because he tried to threaten me but it’s his loss so I just continued to fan my ego.

Ah Young on the other hand seemed to disagree with me. “You’re probably the only person in this world who dared to say no to Park Jimin.” She said as she shook her head at me.

Lunchtime that day, we both decided to eat outside near the bleachers. There were a few boys playing basketball at the court. We sat there munching on our food.

“You know, I really think it’s time for you to say yes to Jimin now.” Ah Young said as she took a huge bite out of her Subway.

I rolled my eyes. “Not again, honey.”

“I mean seriously! How long do you think you can run away from him? He may be hot as fuck but he is also scary as hell.” She reminded me.

As if on cue, we heard some noises that caught our attention. We searched the court to find the source. We sat quite far at the bleachers so I zoomed my eyesight to my best ability and could make out some boys were fighting at the court.

“Holy shit- see? I told you Jimin is some scary shit.” Ah Young said, her eyes fixated to the court.

What? I squinted my eyes. Holy fuck- I could see Jimin was in a fight with one of the boys playing basketball. I did not realize he was one of the players just now. The way he threw his punches mercilessly.. I shuddered. Perhaps Ah Young was right, I should probably stop messing with him. He’d beat me into a pulp in an instant if he wanted to. But would he? Another voice popped in my mind. I never see him beat girls. But best not test his patience Kim Hana. The small voice in my head nodded in agreement.

That evening, as soon as I was finished with my classes, I stood waiting at my locker. Jimin’s classes finished at four too today. I watched his locker like a hawk, waiting for his appearance while also trying to remain inconspicuous. A few minutes after that, he walked past me and went straight to his locker. Beside him was Kim Taehyung.

I had no idea since when did the prospect of talking to Jimin become so easy, I found myself taking strides towards him. Jimin had his back on me while Taehyung leaned against his locker. When Taehyung saw me, he gave a signal to Jimin. Shit, now that I’m here it felt like my legs had turned Jell-O. He turned around and there he was, his visuals blinding me as usual. I struggled to remain composure.

He raised his brows at me. “Yes? What can I help you with?”

Shit. Am I going to say it? Have I really decided this? My mental war must’ve gone on for quite some time as Jimin had now propped his elbow on his locker door. “Let’s do it.” There, I said it.

He then leaned in closer and closer to me I had to step back. “Are you sure about this?” He asked, his voice low. I cursed because it’s unfair to how sexy he sounded.

“Yes.” I answered.

He raised his brow as if perplexed by how easy I came to a conclusion.

I drew a breath. “I’ll tell you when to meet. Since this is very sudden, give me some time to prepare-“

“Tomorrow.” He cut me.

“But I haven’t-“

“2 PM. Library.” He finalised, already turning on his heels while Taehyung followed suit after regarding me for a moment.

Link to Chapter 4

Posted on 200505 09:53PM

[theygotmewhipped]

Skin - 4. The First Kiss

Word Count: 1689

Finally home. I exhaled completely exhausted facing the entrance door. I hate working in services. Customers are always so rude, annoying or stupid. Most likely all of the above. Especially old people. I don't care if you survived both world wars, ice age and dinosaurs, Betty, iced coffee without ice isn't iced coffee and no, we can't serve your grandchild fries if they are not on the menu just because he wants them.

I put the key in the hole and opened the door.

"Yes! I win! Again!" Some unknown voice could be heard out of the living room. What the fuck is this?! Then I heard claws clicking on the tiles coming my way. Toben ran towards me and welcomed me home. I squatted to him and patted him.

"What are you doing here, huh?" I asked him as if he could answer. Then I spotted unfamiliar pair of shoes in the hallway. Seems like we have a guest. And here I thought I'd finally get to chill. I took off my shoes and entered the living room with Toben following me.

"How are you so good at this? We're playing it for the first time." Chanyeol whined.

"It's all about talent, skills and practice, you know?" A guy next to Chanyeol said teasingly with a sense of pride. The two of them were sitting in front of the TV playing one of my video games totally oblivious to the fact that someone has entered the room. They were surrounded with candy wrappers, empty cans, bags of chips and other rubbish. The whole place smelt like coke mixed with energy drinks, sweat and who knows what else.

One day. Just one fucking day without Chanyeol finding a way to vex me. That's all I ask.

I cleared my throat to let my presence be known. Both of them snapped their heads around to look at me.

"Hey, Yumi." Chanyeol said looking guilty while the guy next to him was smirking at me. I frowned at them. The stranger jumped over the edge of the couch and took my hand kissing the back of it.

"Je suis Baekhyun." He said cheesily.

"What's with the French?" I said disgusted and yanked my hand away from him escaping the touch.

"It's language of romance." Baekhyun answered dramatically.

"Yumi, this is Baekhyun, my best friend. He's also harmless. You can pet him too." He introduced him like Toben the other day with a giggle.

"No, thanks. I liked Toben better." I ignored Baekhyun staring at me. "Speaking of him, what is Toben doing here?" I asked Yeol.

"I have to look after him for a few days. I hope it's okay." He scratched his neck. So now I live with two dogs. Can't wait to wake up to both of them barking.

"It's fine. But you could have told me sooner he would be here." I tried to suppress my frustration.

"Yeah, sorry, I forgot." He apologized. I sighed and went to my room. Less than three weeks and he's out. I comforted myself. I fell on the bed and tried to take a nap.

"No, no, no." "C'mon." "Are you kidding me?!" "Fuck!" No, the question is Are YOU-kidding ME?! Do they really have to be so noisy? I stood up and went out of the room.

"What are you so loud for, assholes?!" I yelled with intention to be louder than them. They both shut upped.

"Sorry, Yumi." Chanyeol apologized.

"We're just really passionate about it." Baekhyun smiled mockingly.

"Oh, really? I wouldn't have noticed. Thank you very much, Baekhyun." I was being sarcastic.

"Any time." He smiled widely. I rolled my eyes and moved to the kitchen for a glass of water. I was chugging it down when I noticed something move at the corner of my eye. What the... I turned around to see what it was.

"You gotta be shitting me." A fish was floating in its fishbowl on the counter. I looked in despair as a mute face stared back at me. Was I adopted by a circus or is there a hidden camera somewhere? Because since Chanyeol showed up there wasn't a single day without something unexpected or crazy happening. I took the bowl and carried it to the common room. "What is this?" I stood in front of the screen.

"Oh my God, move, Yumi." Baekhyun yelled at me. I waited until I heard a voice say Game Over.

"So what's this?" I asked again.

"A fish." Baekhyun answered pouting that I ruined the game.

"I can tell that much." I rolled my eyes. "But what is it doing in our kitchen and how did it get there?"

"It's a housewarming gift from Hyunie and it's...Toben, no!" Chanyeol suddenly called out in the middle of the sentence. Out of nowhere Toben jumped at me, I staggered and the bowl slipped out of my hands. It crashed to the floor and shattered leaving the poor fish splashing around the floor. The three of us started to panic. "Toben, come here!" Chanyeol tried to catch Toben before he could eat the fish. I reached for the fish on the floor at the same time as Baekhyun and we bumped our foreheads.

"Ou." "Shit." We bounced off. While we were trying to save a fishlife, Chanyeol was running around trying to catch Toben.

"Don't step on the glass, Loey." Baekhyun warned him. I finally caught the fish and ran into the kitchen with it. I dropped it into the first bowl I found and poured water into it. I exhaled in relief. "You almost killed Yeolmi!" Baekhyun came carrying pieces of broken glass.

"Yeah, I'm sorry...Wait, Yeolmi?" I looked at him with distorted face forgetting any piece of regret I had.

"Yep, like Yeol in Chanyeol and Mi in Yumi." He tossed away the glass, took a cloth and left the kitchen.

"Ew." I exclaimed and looked at the fish. "I'm definitely not taking care of you." Who brings pets as housewarming gifts? Couldn't he just bring a plant like Hyojong? Or a stupid candle or sth? I returned to the living room and looked at the mess. They were already back to playing the game. I looked at the screen and grinned to myself. "Hey, Baekhyun, I have a proposal." I called out to him trying to sound serious.

"I'm listening." His eyes fixated on the screen.

"Let's make a bet." I suggested.

"Sounds interesting. Continue." He paid attention to me, while playing.

"If Chanyeol wins your next game, you'll clean up this mess." Right that moment Chanyeol lost. "And order us pizza." I quickly added. Baekhyun smirked victoriously.

"Alright, but if I win, you'll go on a date with me." As if.

"Yumi, don't..." Chanyeol tried to discourage me but I interrupted him.

"Deal." Boy, you are up for a surprise. I don't gamble unless I am sure I win. "Before you start, excuse us for a moment. I'm gonna put a magic spell on Chanyeol." I motioned for Chanyeol to come into my room.

"Yumi, I don't want to ruin your air castle but I can't defeat Baekhyun." Chanyeol looked troubled when I closed the door behind us.

"Oh, I know. You suck big time." I said bluntly.

"Ouch?" He furrowed his brows. "So why did you make the bet?" He was confused.

"Cos I'm the one that's going to defeat him." I said with a smug look on my face.

"What? How? What?" Chanyeol was completely out of it.

"Give me your controller." He handed it over. "Here you go." I placed a different turned off controller in his hands. "Just pretend that you are playing and I'll do the rest."

"Isn't that cheating?" He asked like a little kid.

"Well, yeah. But I want free pizza and cleaned up room so just comply." Has he never lied before?

"Uhm, okay then. Though I feel quite bad lying to him." He gave me a sad puppy eyes.

"Don't be a baby." I rolled my eyes. "Now go there and tell him I'm staying in my room waiting for the results." I pushed him out of the door and watched through a gap until he sat down. Then I crawled out and sat on the floor beside the couch so Baekhyun wouldn't see me. I listened to their conversation and acted as Chanyeol's hands. You are on my turf now, Baekhyun, so let's see what you've got. I smirked to myself.

"What? No! How is that possible?" I crawled back to my room while Baekhyun tried to accept the fact that he lost to 'Chanyeol'. I put away the controller and walked out of my room as if I never left.

"Seems like I won." I smirked. "So where is my pizza?" Baekhyun was completely dumbfounded while Chanyeol was enjoying 'his' victory.

"What kind of spell did you put on him? He played like a completely different person." Baek was curious.

"I gave him a lucky charm." I sweetly smiled at him.

"What charm?" Well, I didn't think this through. I exchanged a panicked glance with Chanyeol and turned back to Baek.

"I kissed him." What the hell did you just say, Yumi?! I freaked out, okay? It happens to the best of us. Baekhyun's jaw dropped and Chanyeol's eyes went wide his face slowly catching a color red. Mine would have probably looked the same but I've got a lie to sell so I can't afford to slip now.

"No way." Baekhyun couldn't believe it. "Chanyeol's never kissed anyone." What?! Chanyeol was now beat red. Is that why I never feel anything ominous out of him when he asks for cuddles? He really is a giant baby.

"Well, now he has. So order the pizza and start cleaning." I tried to keep the straight face. I think I just kind of might have ruined Chanyeol's first kiss experience in some way. I looked at Chanyeol's flustered face. Oh boy, I fucked up, but in my defense, how was I supposed to know that a guy like him hasn't had his first kiss yet?

First Chapter——–Previous Chapter——–Next Chapter

xx

[recentanimenews]

Wonder Egg Priority – 07 – Oyakodon (Parent-Child Bowl)

“Life is pain, highness. Anyone who says differently is selling something.”—The Dread Pirate Roberts

It’s Rika’s birthday. On one level, that’s a good thing: a cause to celebrate with her new friends, while also celebrating Ai’s retirement from shut-in-dom. Ai describes her sudden change of heart as having realized beating herself up at home wouldn’t solve anything.

On another level, Rika’s birthday also a reminder that she is one year older, one year closer to possibly becoming her lonely, alcoholic mom, and no closer to learning who her father was. Her mom agreed to tell her when she got into middle school, but she doesn’t know herself, and gives her five possible candidates. It could be one of them or none of them.

It’s instructive that Rika lives above a bar her mom owns. That bar has not only been the place where her mom no doubt met these many men over the years to try to quell her loneliness (and drown it in booze when she failed) but before Rika could enter her home she always had to walk past a gauntlet of drunk men.

Rika takes her birthday celebration as a chance to air some grievances, albeit with her usual irreverent tone that implies she doesn’t care. In truth, meeting her real dad is almost all she cares about. She believes her mother never wants her to meet him, since they might get along.

She calls her mom a “tragic heroine with a persecution complex” who has never apologized for anything and has nothing but her own pride. She thinks her mom believes she could have been happy if only she didn’t have her. Neiru, ever calm and logical and correct, asks rather tactlessly if Rika hates her mom too, and if “that’s what they call co-dependence.”

This angers Rika, who storms off, but she fully expects Ai to chase her, and she does. Ai is ready to continue the mom-insulting session, calling the two of them the “Single-Mother Girls”. As they wander the abandoned entertainment center and Rika swings and misses at the batting cages, “Serious Rika” comes out of her shell to talk about all the bad stuff that she remembered at once. As Ai listens, Rika wonders what the hell is even up with adults, who presumably bang and marry because they like it, yet end up like her mom.

Neiru and Momoe are worried about Rika, but when they hear her yell they’re confident she’s okay. Neiru wonders whether she’s too honest and direct for “female society”, but Momoe tells her she’s fine that way, as she hates when everyone pretends to agree. Neiru cops to being a straight-up orphan who never knew either parent, and notes it seems to have spared her “a lot of trouble.”

On the rooftop, Rika asks Ai about her dad, who she sees at least once a month, and thus is still her daddy even though her parent sbroke up. Rika can’t even remember her dad’s face—only his gentle voice when he once told her “a beautiful woman never needs a wallet.” After shedding a few tears of frustration from wanting to see him and not being able to, Rika declares “Moping Time” over and takes off.

The episode then shifts between Rika’s latest Wonder Egg battle and the battle she fights every day by having to cross a gauntlet of drunk men and her mom to gain access to her home. This Egg Girl and her family were members of a suicide cult, but still loves her Wonder Killer and wants Rika to join them in cosmic bliss.

She gives Rika the hard sell, telling her how her family was cursed by karma from their past lives, so they abandoned their attachments to the physical world. The Wonder Killer, whom the girl calls “the teacher”, talks of a flawed world “fixated on worthless appearances and hierarchies” in which the haves grow arrogant and the have-nots envious.

Once up in her dark room, Rika pulls out her box-cutter and draws it close to her arm. In the battle, the Egg Girl notices the sleeve on Rika’s arm covering her scars and tells her to “erase herself”, revealing more of the same scars on her own arm as a show of solidarity. The Egg Girl was once like her, hating, envying, and drowning in pain and despair, before becoming one with the teacher and becoming part of a “vast energy.”

Normally Rika might not be so easily taken in by this new age gobbledygook from the child of parents who bought into what someone was selling, but it’s her birthday, and “all the bad stuff” is still foremost on her mind. The pain of still not knowing her dad, the fear of becoming just like her mom; they weigh on her, and the Egg Girl and teacher’s offer to “erase her karma” sounds like a good one in the there and then.

In this psychologically vulnerable state, the Egg Girl and Wonder Killer are tag teaming her towards her doom. Aca and Ura-Aca even worry that they could lose her. Ai, Momoe and Neiru, sensing she’s in trouble, use their pendants to snap Rika out of it, but their voices fade out as the Wonder Killer tells her to relax and surrender herself to his “hug of life.”

The only thing that saves Rika from oblivion is the fact she too is a mother; a fact she’d forgotten in the haze of the cult proselytization. Her turtle guardian-child, Mannen, grows to full size and blocks the Killer’s hug, saving Rika. She realizes because he imprinted on her, he thinks she’s his mom, and that she almost turned into a “selfish, piece-of-shit” mother by giving up and abandoning her child.

Declaring death to all fake men who ask women for money, and partners with Mannen to give the teacher the “slice of death.” The Egg Girl is devastated, asking why Rika, who like her cut her own arm to endure the pain of life, turned down a chance at sweet release. But Rika wasn’t buying what the teacher was selling. Dying isn’t the answer; not for her. Even if it means hurting herself, she’s going to live.

Rika reunites with her extremely worried and relieved friends. Neiru doesn’t join in the group hug but makes it clear she’s glad Rika is okay. Later that night Rika goes downstairs, after the bar has closed, where her mom is where she always is, drinking herself to sleep. Rika takes the cake out of the fridge and has a bite, confirming her mom’s worry the cream has dried out.

Her mom laments having gotten “old” before she knew it. Rika points out she’s only 40, and her mom corrects her; she’s 38. She says she’s sure Rika will abandon her, too. Rika concurs, but after a pause, sais “…but not now.”

* * * * *

This episode shines as a heartwrenchingly sober examination of the duality of parents and children as both curse and blessing to one another, how they hate, blame, and envy or resent one another, and how society only seems to make things worse. And yet, life and all its pain is presented as preferable to the bleak, defeatist alternative rapacious charlatans have offered since time immemorial.

Rika may not know how to win, if winning is possible, or even what victory looks like in this painful, fucked-up world. But no matter how many cuts she receives—by her own hand or otherwise—or batting cage balls she swings through, one thing she won’t do is stop playing. If she does, she knows she’ll lose, and she wouldn’t be the only one losing.

If this is all feels a bit heavy and complex for a cold cloudy Tuesday afternoon…well, I can’t blame you. I’m just glad a show like this exists, frankly presenting such ideas about these girls’ lives juxtaposed with the mundane heartaching beauty of the world in which it’s lived. It’s the kind of breathless ambition all too many anime would rather not adopt, instead pursuing the easy buck and assured popularity.

Don’t get me wrong—there’s a time and a place for that stuff too!—but it’s shows like Wonder Egg Priority that confirm that murmurs regarding the decline of anime are grossly exaggerated. This isn’t just the best anime on the air. It’s the best television show, period.

By: sesameacrylic