#fun fact: the paper i was GOING to use for my second body section actually had no math in it

[inkofamethyst]

May 2, 2023

AYYYY I SOLVED THE MYSTERY BEFORE THEY DID :D  First time, House s3e2 :)))))  Medical mystery shows are a bit different from the typical whodunnit show because there’s a huge amount of knowledge that I simply do not possess and never intend to.  I know some basic bio and a bit of anatomy with a few fun medical facts thrown in, but I can’t ever in the slightest expect myself to deduce the culprit in any episode, unlike in Midsomer Murders or something where fewer of the clues require extensive, broad-ranging knowledge of very specific topics.  Regardless, I can’t stop myself from semi-actively thinking about solutions to medical mysteries, and it’s finally paid off (mostly thanks to my undergrad concentration in genetics).

I’m not very good at asserting myself.  I am very afraid of being wrong, even when there are no actual consequences.  This is.. not good.  Not at all.  I keep thinking back to when that expert dude was pestering engaging me when I was first presenting my research, and he asked me why I hadn’t included one particularly recent paper in my references.  I thought for sure I had scoured publications and had the most recent articles that mentioned my topic even in passing.  But I didn’t say that.  I could have, but I waited for this white-haired old dude to look up the paper and search for my keyword only for it to not show up anywhere.  Then I felt comfortable saying that I had only found xyz papers and that no one has touched this topic in years blah blah blah.  Everyone can be wrong, everyone.  But that doesn’t necessarily mean I should keep my mouth shut when I think I’m right.  It does the body good, to get used to being wrong sometimes (I’m still reeling from when I confidently asked a question in my first math lecture freshman year and it turns out my assumptions were wrong and the question didn’t make any sense (I really need to let that go)).

Today I’m thankful for my ulta cozy grad uni sweatshirt (likely the first of... three, probably) :)  I know that it’s going to be ~academically rigorous~ n all but I am looking forward to the aesthetic SO MUCH.  I mean, I look so good in this color.  The libraries, the cafes, the commanding a certain level of respect and admiration... UGH.  Literally can’t wait.

Also thankful that while I am technically in my second to last week of school,,,, two of my profs have straight up cancelled class for the last week.  Keep in mind, I only attend three actual classes twice a week, plus a discussion section.  So next week is literally just ballet on two mornings and that’ll be it lol.  No TAing, no more coursework for my major.  My major will sort of just end after I take my last two midterms (and presumably do well on them) and submit my final project for cell bio.

Plan is to go for a night on the town next week after the last day of classes with my photo-, dancer-, and cello-friends.  I’ve never been to a club before.  I did buy a top for the occasion :)  I’ve never even gone drinking before.  I don’t know how much to budget.  $50?  $100???  I’m not trying to go crazy or anything, but transportation, cover, drinks... it’s not cheap.

Gotta force myself to go to bed.  I managed to not take a nap today despite being wrecked by the sleepytired, and I’ve encountered a second wind which is screwing with me.  And it’s uncharacteristically chilly outside, so I can’t go for a promenade about the mall to tire myself out.  I need to be up at seven tomorrow oh my godddd.  Maybe the baritone drone of Cecil Gershwin Palmer can knock me out [edit, next day: night vale did the trick!].

[motiongraphicstheartofthetitle]

For our first assignment in class, we were tasked with finding two intros to any media we liked one that is digital and one that is analog. We were given a link to this website:

On that website, there are many different intros we can choose from. It asks for money to view them so I would click on the video and search it on Youtube. The first intro I found was my digital choice. It's the intro to Loving Vincent it really is beautifully made and the process is amazing!

I really love the fact that they took the abstract nature of Vincent's art and utilized it to make a hand-painted and computer-processed piece of art. It took over 100 artists to make the film and hand paint each frame (Absolutely insane I LOVE IT)! Then after processing the frames into a program (I'm thinking premiere or something along those lines) they have this breathtaking effect of moving paint that so clearly conveys the message of the film. A film centered around Vincent, his life, and his art. I haven't seen the film myself but, I can tell it will definitely explore his life in the town were he lived, possibly even just exploring his day to day life. To me it doesn't really matter because the title sequence has done it's job I AM HOOKED!

For my second choice (the analog), I actually had a real hard time choosing which intro I wanted to cover. In the end I chose Anatomy of Murder:

This one is so fun, basically they took what seems to be very thick paper and cut a shape that roughly resembles a person or the outline of a body from a crime scene. They then sectioned the cut out into about 7 different pieces each cut being made where a connecting joint would be in the body. From there they took pictures of varying distances from each piece o the cut out either by themselves or next to other pieces; moving them about as the intro goes on. I love it because it shows that this is probably going to be a detective movie where we find out who committed the murder. Something I really love about this is that some of the pieces get cut up even more as if to dissect them further which might be a clue to us the audience that there is more to this crime than the surface level we see. Or a least that's what I got out of it. It's a really creative way to make an intro during a time when we didn't have all these nice effects to use. I find it really affective as well and I will be watching both of these movies in the near future!

[birlwrites]

wait ok so you said in your post about family specialties that even tho regulus doesn't know it yet, his is already impacting how he casts. is that why he's bad at charms? bc from how you've described it so far, the black family magic sounds like it has to be executed very methodically, similarly to how transfiguration works, but charms is a lot more. vague ig. have i put something together?

YES IT IS!!!!!!!! (the post in question)

okay so the specific reason that regulus is bad at charms is due to some very niche charms theory that i made up (coming soon to a chapter 37 near you), but the general idea is that charms are more of a nudge than a shove, magically speaking.

if you throw a shitload of magic at a charm, it's kind of like taking 10 gallons of cereal and throwing them at your cereal bowl - like yeah, some of it is probably going to make it in there, but you're definitely going to end up with cereal all over the floor and you would have been much better off if you had simply opted to carefully pour cereal directly into the bowl. and regulus is wielding far more cereal than the average hogwarts student, but because he doesn't know about this metaphor, he does not know that could be a problem.

the reason this came about is because i was thinking about why charms are a literal entire class at hogwarts - from what we see in the books, charms tend to be 'the random spells class that usually features the chekhov's gun of the book, except in book 3 when harry still learns a chekhov's charm but he learns it from lupin instead'. but 'random spells you might possibly need someday' does not seem like a coherent curriculum, nor does it explain why they had to make pineapples tap dance, so i've concluded that charms, as a class, is actually about how to use your magic

once again, this post got LONG, so we're putting in a cut ajflshgfk

classes like transfiguration and potions are much more about the process of doing complicated magic - problem-solving, in essence. but accidental magical outbursts tend to be pretty uncontrolled, and just handing a kid a wand isn't going to teach them how to use magic effectively, so they have to learn how to apply the right amount of magic to a spell sOMEHOW, and in the bcu (birl's cinematic universe) that's where charms come in

so flitwick is prepared to look at someone casting a charm and say 'that's too much force, reel it in a little', but there are a couple reasons why he hasn't done that with regulus:

regulus is working his ASS off to prevent flitwick from helping him improve his charms (because accepting help is Bad and Not How Blacks Work), which generally includes preventing flitwick from witnessing him cast charms in general

regulus looks like he's casting them correctly

his charms are functional enough that flitwick isn't going to ask him to attend office hours - like sure, there's room for improvement, but it's kind of in the zone of 'he's trying, it's working, he'll ask for help if he wants his charms to be better but they're alright now so it's not like he's failing'

more on point 2: because regulus's difficulty is specifically coming from his extra-strong affinity for a certain dark art that flitwick doesn't know exists, it's not going to show up in the same way that it will for a non-dark student who's just working too hard (and that's what flitwick is looking for). regulus looks like he's putting in the right amount of effort and such - it's just that neither he nor flitwick knows that he's unconsciously directing way too much magic in that direction

flitwick has clocked regulus as someone who is Really Trying, but nothing has exploded, so he's probably fine. to return to the cereal metaphor, usually people who are using too much magic will have the equivalent of launching an incredibly highly pressurized burst of cereal at the cereal bowl, which results in knocking it off the counter, possibly breaking it, and exploding all the cereal into tiny little cereal bits. so THAT'S what flitwick is looking for when he thinks 'student pushing too hard' - he's looking for extra force, not extra magic

compounding the issue, this isn't something that regulus's parents have warned him about as a potential Thing That Might Come Up In Classes, because regulus is genuinely the first person who has had this issue to this noticeable of a degree. affinities get stronger over the generations (see post linked at the top), regulus and sirius have parents who are both blacks and experienced with the family specialty, and because of the extra-strong affinity, regulus and sirius started learning the family specialty younger than most and got good at it really fast. so by the time regulus got to hogwarts, the black specialty was affecting his casting way more than it affected his parents'/previous generations'

but wait, you say! what about sirius? he's older than regulus, so shouldn't he be the first person who's had this issue?

to which i say, sort of? sirius has those same disadvantages when it comes to charms, but he never bought into the perfectionist mindset the same way regulus did, AND he just kind of... approaches things in a chiller way. regulus gets worse at charms the harder he tries (rip dude), while sirius has just....... never *tried that hard* at the practical component of charms. they've been working better for him from the beginning, which means he's confident that they'll work, which means he's very casual about casting them and they do work, and just. feedback loop!

meanwhile, regulus has been spiraling since his very first mediocre wingardium leviosa. so sirius never realized it was an issue in the first place, while regulus thinks he's just. innately bad at charms. of course he's not going to mention this to anyone in his family - which means his family can't help him figure this out

(in the cereal metaphor, sirius is still getting cereal all over the counter - it's just that he's pouring the cereal into the bowl instead of throwing it at the bowl, so the bowl still ends up filled and no one pays attention to the mess. he's got a lot of magic/cereal at his fingertips - losing some excess isn't going to affect him)

more on point 3: because regulus is a black (specifically heir black, and even before then, he was in the main line and thus more visible in the family), flitwick is intentionally being very delicate about offering him help. flitwick is an experienced professor and is fully aware that certain sacred 28 families are very full of themselves and highly disapprove of their scions seeking magical assistance - after all, their blood is so pure, how could they possibly have difficulty with any kind of magic? ESPECIALLY practical components. the expectation is that these are second nature.

so flitwick knows/has guessed that regulus is fighting a battle between 'must get Os' and 'must not admit i am not inherently perfect', and that there's almost certainly heavy parental pressure involved. and as far as flitwick can tell, regulus is doing things pretty much correctly, even if the efficacy of his charms isn't perfect. so flitwick is leaving the ball in regulus's court - if regulus is fine with this state of affairs, then flitwick isn't going to make things harder for him by pointing out in class that Heir Black's Casting Could Be Better. and if regulus isn't fine with this state of affairs, then flitwick's door is open. the quality of his written work helps him scrape together Os on his end-of-year exams, so.

(if regulus paid more attention to the incredibly detailed discussion of charms theory that evan and flitwick often have in class, then he might have put these pieces together himself? but as it is, the last thing regulus wants to do is pay attention to excruciatingly in-depth discussions of charms, so he's going to need a Certain Other Perspective to help him figure out wtf is going on and that his difficulty with charms is in fact something that can be solved)

alright, back to my paper writing - feel free to keep sending in asks! genuinely this is working so well to motivate me ajfslghsklfh i cannot believe i've never tried this before

[1kook]

imax & climax

summary; The occasional dark horse candidate among Barbie movie binges— Jungkook gets weirdly horny and fucks you to the tune of a classic Barbie movie soundtrack. warnings; fingering, blowjobs, tit play, praise kink, standing sex, unprotected sex, reverse cowgirl kinda idk lol, daddy kink that morphs into i love u kink tags;  jk is an avid history channel viewer, jk hates Barbie movies ik we took an L today girls 😔, jk goes thru like 4 personality changes (commanding > soft > mean > in love), honestly idk what to tag it’s a mess, he’s still cheesy and romantic but also 👀 just read word count; 9.8k

notes; there is no rest for the wicked, aka miss 1kook writes another part for this fic i swore wasn't gonna be a series except this time we ditch the gentlemen persona and go into maximum overdrive. its not proofread bc i wrote this entire thing at 4 am last night after inhaled a whole bucket of spicy popcorn

[ part 1 ; netflix & chill ] [ part 2 ; hulu & wohoo ]

Jungkook sees it on display during your weekly Target trip. You know he won’t say anything because despite how long you’ve dated he still likes to pretend he’s the epitome of adult maturity. Yet the way his eyes linger over the electronics section, cart rolling to a stop in front of the massive screen, tells you all you need to know.

“Baby, the toilet paper is this way,” you sing, giving the front of the cart a gentle tug that pulls it and his thoughts away from the television that seems to hold reign over his interest.

“Ah,” he mumbles as he shakes himself out of whatever trance he was in. “Right.”

The Target trip ends rather uneventfully; you grab all the items you came for and make the executive decision of swapping Jungkook’s tangerine bathroom soap with strawberry instead. Normally he’d put up a good fight, argue about the comfort that came with consistency, but today he says nothing. You chalk it up to that flatscreen that hypnotized him earlier.

“You wanted it,” you announce rather pointedly in the car. He’s backing out of the parking space now, one hand on the wheel the other pressed to the side of your seat. His jaw twitches as he tries to maneuver around a stray shopping cart someone didn’t return to the retrieval area. He’s wearing that dark jumper you like, with the high collar that covers all of last night’s bruises up wonderfully.

Jungkook scoffs as he finally gets the two of you back onto the main road, Target and the flat screen left behind. “I didn’t,” he defends. “Just thought it was neat.”

You snort. “Neat. Okay, grandpa, did it tickle your pickle?” you tease, obnoxiously leaning over the center console to get all in his face. Jungkook greets your proximity with a palm against your forehead.

“Please don’t ever say that again,” he laughs, pulling to a stop at the next red light. He turns to level you with an easygoing grin, sparkly anime girl eyes extra shiny under the red glow. “Only want you to tickle my pickle.”

You gag. “That’s actually disgusting.”

——

You graduate on a Saturday and your dorm stay expires on the Tuesday that follows. You spend the entire day shoving all your belongings into a variety of trash bags, from your weighted blanket to the collection candles you and Doyeon swore to light every night and never did. Speaking of Doyeon, she cries through the entire process. From the moment you take down the first wall decoration she’s in tears, and not even her mom, who’s come to help out, can quell her emotions. The girl cries and cries. She cries throughout the clean up, like she hadn’t spent the week before cursing the funky aircon system to hell and back. It’s probably the nostalgia that comes with leaving college, you assume. When Jungkook picks you up around noon, even your eyes are glassy.

Jungkook’s mom, who you only just met a few months ago, is over at his place when you arrive. You get along fairly well, in fact, you would even go as far as to claim you got along really well. You had first met her over this past spring break when Jungkook invited you along to his family trip to some tropical island. The Jeons were lovely people. In fact, had Jungkook not explicitly introduced them as his parents, you would’ve thought they were some sitcom actors carrying out the role of most in love, sophisticated lovers to ever exist. Yeah, they were super into each other, and you suppose it’s why Jungkook is the way he is, loves as hard as he does. The only thing that broke their attention away from each other was the sight of their precious Jungkookie bringing you to a family event.

It was hard to keep them entertained. Every second was spent worrying about your appearance, your demeanor, whether or not you looked like a devil beside their (your) angelic boy. It certainly didn’t help that Jungkook was wearing that obnoxiously floral shirt at the restaurant you went to, the first three buttons undone almost lazily. It was a look your boyfriend rarely showed, always so meticulously dressed. Of course, he had that cute boyish style of his that consisted almost exclusively of baggy pants and designer tee’s a little too plain to cost as much as they did. But even those outfits had a specific Jungkook rhythm to them— the darker tones always went with the pants that had twelve buckles on them; the long sleeves always went with the jeans. He was awfully particular about those kinds of self-set rules, and this jarring floral print did not fit any of them. It was too provocative, the black skinny jeans he’d paired with it too devious.

Maybe he knew what he was doing to you dressed so hot like this, but knowing Jungkook, you doubt he did. His parents hadn’t batted a single lash his way, eyes laser focused on your every word as you stumbled through three plates and dessert. It was a battle you fought alone, and one you barely survived.

So despite you impressing his parents, she still gives you an odd look when you enter Jungkook’s swanky townhouse with all your garbage bags of items. You promise her it’s just for the weekend, until your parents clean out your old room that they’ve filled to the brim with holiday decorations and miscellaneous objects. You’re not trying to take her baby chick out of the nest. (Yet.)

You watch TV for a couple hours, mostly her favorite soap operas on his 67 in. screen. It takes up a huge spot on the wall where it’s mounted, glossy black screen glaring back at you. Even his mom scolds him for such a huge screen, and you wonder how she’d feel about the absolute giant he ogled at the Target last week. Super angry, you think, and the image of her raging in flames while Jungkook apologizes like the momma’s boy he is makes you giggle.

She leaves a little after sunset, kissing and hugging the both of you on the doorstep like she’s going off to war and will never return. She’ll be back by the weekend, desperate to check on her baby boy, but you let her have her moment. It’s weird seeing how dramatic the Jeons are compared to how reserved Jungkook is.

You pounce on him the second she’s gone. He goes down with a muffled yelp against the sofa, hands grasping at your waist until you straddle him and begin going to town. Your fun lasts all of two minutes before the old lady novella Jungkook’s mom had been watching cuts to commercials and a loud advertisement for irritable bowel syndrome medication begins playing.

“Oh, that is so not sexy,” you whine childishly, trying to roll your hips over him again. Jungkook laughs, all low and sweet as he sits back up again.

“Give it a rest,” he says, shifting you until he’s got you hugged between those stupidly strong arms of his. His pecs feel strong and comforting beneath your cheek, and the feeling makes your tiny pouting session end earlier than usual. “Come on,” he mumbles as he manhandles you around, until your back is pressed against his chest and you’re sitting between his legs. “Let’s watch this film on Mesopotamian folklore and its overall significance to the nations it birthed after its downfall.”

——

You rarely use the key Jungkook gifted you a few months back. The majority of your visits to Jungkook’s house were either  the result of Jungkook picking you up from somewhere and bringing you back, or Jungkook inviting you over after dinner. In short, he was always with you when you arrived at his stoop.

Today you’re alone, juggling two boxes of takeout and some cheap wine in one hand as you fight to unlock his door. He hadn’t answered his phone, which leads you to believe he’s holed himself up again in that damn study. He likes to do that sometimes, lock himself away like some modern day Rapunzel until he finishes whatever project he has this time around. When he gets like this, it’s like all other body functions are forgotten, his brain zeroed in on the lines of code you barely understand.

Just as you suspect, the house is too dark when you finally break in. The hall light is off, which isn’t out of the norm, but so are the kitchen and living room lights. You pad down the hall, flicking on the light to the living room to set down your offerings onto the edge of the coffee table. There’s a scrambled pile of notes on top that seem too disorderly to disregard. You whirl around, making to head back out into the hall and down to the study, when you see it.

A good 90 inches mounted on his wall. It’s a monstrosity of a screen, devouring nearly the entire surface of the wall, from stainless end to stainless end. It’s ridiculously thin in the way all modern TVs are, but this one is even more so given the fact you hadn’t registered it in your peripheral when you walked in. It’s just barely short of a Jumbotron, the kind they have at baseball games to make sure you can see every nose hair on the pitcher.

His mom was going to kill him.

“Jungkook?” you call out slowly, inching back out into the hall with your gaze glued to the screen. Like maybe you’ve imagined this all and that isn’t the stupidly gigantic television screen Jungkook had gawked at just a few weeks ago.

There’s a soft hum down the hall, the sound slipping beneath the bottom gap in the door frame. You make a beeline for the room, oddly unsettled with the huge screen. The door gives way, exposing your boyfriend’s hunched back and the blue light from his monitors that highlights his frame. “Hi, sweetie,” you begin, inching over to him.

“Hi,” he sighs, leaning back into your touch when you step behind him. His dark eyes are weary from staring at his tablet for too long, his usual tender expression melted into one of mild irritation. “Can’t figure this out,” he says, tapping his stylus against one line of absolute nerd gibberish you don’t bother trying to decipher. Maybe another day you would have entertained him, but today you cherish this moment with him knowing it might be his last before his mom comes over and kills him.

“Sounds like break time to me!” Your proclamation makes him frown, a frustrated groan pulling itself from his lips. His head droops forward again, chin touching his chest. But there’s a hint of relief in his groan that tells you all you need to know. “Baby needs a break,” you smile, pressing a peck against the back of his head.

“You’re baby,” he tries to fight, but his limbs are so pliant under your touch that it practically means nothing. “I’m the head honcho around here.”

“Uh huh,” you appease him, finally managing to tug all that muscled body out of his seat. “And apparently that means making dumb purchases.”

“What dumb purchases? Are you talking about the cactus again?” he asks, letting you guide him back down the hall.

“Yes, Kook, the cactus you haven’t watered in three months,” you drawl sarcastically, the sad plant sitting in the kitchen a reminder of both your incompetence. “Namjoon would hate you for that.”

Not amused by the insinuation of his favorite senpai being disappointed in him, Jungkook goes to fight you on that. By then you’ve stopped at the entrance of the living room, glaring at the straight up theater screen that sits on the wall. “Oh.”

“Yeah, oh,” you mimic, flopping down on the ground beside the coffee table. Jungkook doesn’t follow, choosing to sprawl himself over the couch instead. “What’s with the Jumbotron?”

He stretches his arms out, moaning something sinful at the way his bones pop. “It adds to the experience,” he says. “Movies are more enjoyable when the pictures are bigger; a tall aspect ratio and stadium seating really add to the experience.” He was such a nerd.

You snort. “The experience— Oh, I’m sorry. Didn’t know I was speaking to Mr. IMAX here.”

His cheeks flush a soft pink at your jab. “Don’t be mean,” he mumbles, tugging on your arm as he sits back up. You find your way onto his lap, neatly seated over one thigh like he’s the Santa Claus at the mall; not a single gray hair in sight but you’d still let him call you his hoe, hoe, hoe. Realizing there’s more important matters to attend to than Jungkook’s Christmas ham, you shake those images away.

“Good thing I brought a movie,” you beam, gesturing to the pretty pink case resting over top the takeout bag.

Jungkook doesn’t even spare it a single glance as he burrows into your neck. “What? No, we’re finishing the docuseries on—“

You groan loudly to muffle the rest of his sentence. “Kook, I don’t wanna watch another episode on Stonehenge being done by aliens,” you whine, picking up the movie case to brandish in his face.

It’s admittedly the wrong move when Jungkook’s eyes roll themselves into another dimension. “Absolutely not,” he says. The case is quickly discarded off to the side as he attempts to distract you with a kiss against your cheek.

Too bad you’re evil and determined. “No! We are watching the Princess and the Pauper and that’s final,” you exclaim, scrambling for the movie before he can hurl it out the window. He catches you by the waist, your fingers just an inch away from the pink case. “Babe!” you cry, but his fingerprints are bruising their way into your skin.

“No more Barbie movies,” he begs, yanking you back onto his lap. He does so with so much force that it makes the two of you tumble to the side, your head bouncing on the cushions as he catches himself over you. “Please.”

“I hate you,” you fuss, pointedly ignoring the tiny mole beneath his lip that drove you crazy. “We’ve seen every single thing on the History Channel this week, but we can’t watch one Barbie movie?”

Jungkook sighs, dropping his head down against your shoulder. He smells good and feels even better over you, but you’re not going to stop until the Princess and the Pauper is breaking in the new Jumbotron. “It’s weird,” he huffs, voice muffled against the fabric of your shirt. “Especially when we start getting… experimental, and I have to listen to Barbie sing in the background.”

“First of all, her name is Annaleise in this movie,” you correct, squirming beneath him to no avail. “Secondly, how do you think I feel when you’re eating me out while some old British dude narrates the creation of the Hanging Gardens of Babylon?”

Jungkook scoffs, finally letting himself snuggle completely into you. “You don’t even realize it because you’re screaming the whole way through.” That earns him a sharp tug at his ear that has him sputtering apology after apology.

“It’s boring!” you feel the need to emphasize.

Jungkook sits up with an uppity look on his face. “It’s not my fault you don’t appreciate the cinematography that comes from educational pieces,” he points out, rather presumptuously.

You shove him off of you. “I don’t care about cinnamon topography, just play the damn Barbie movie,” you hiss, swiping the movie case from the other end of the couch and pressing it to his chest. If words could hurt, yours definitely do. Jungkook crumbles against the couch, childishly stomping one sock-clad foot against the ground as you gesture toward the movie player.

He doesn’t move, and you’re about to begin another tirade against his snobby movie critiquing habits when he procures a sleek, tiny remote that you would honestly mistake for an iPhone from a distance. It has, no joke, about seven buttons max, four of which are just the up and down, left and right arrows. You let out a low whistle at that. Wow. Technology sure was advancing.

The TV turns on to some minimalistic home page, tiny widgets showing every app it has; the bottom row is dedicated almost entirely to Jungkook’s massive streaming service provider collection. After a moment of brewing in his feels, Jungkook quietly announces, “it’s on Amazon Prime.” This is news to you, being able to watch a Barbie film on a streaming service and not the old disk you scratched when you were ten. Something distinctly carnal flashes in your chest when Jungkook clicks through all the payment options without a care in the world. Oh, that was definitely going into your horny 3 am dreams.

Despite his earlier protests, you know Jungkook will soon fall into his usual movie watching habits. He settles into the couch beside you. You cuddle up next to him, enveloping him with the grip of a killer octopus choking out its prey, except Jungkook is usually the one doing the choking in this relationship. Still, it’s not close enough, and you throw your legs over his thigh. You’re practically sitting on him at this point.

You have no doubt the speakers on this thing are average; it was too thin to really pack any punch. However, that was the TV sans the Bluetooth speakers Jungkook has installed all around his house.

(You swear when the android uprising finally begins, your boyfriend will be the first one out.)

The speakers really amplify the sound. The opening sequence has your bones rattling inside your body, the loud music of the selection screen reverberating through the entire living room. It reminds you of that pounding COMING SOON clip that used to play at the beginning of DVD’s back in the day. Jungkook scrambles to lower the volume. “Sweetheart, you’re cutting off my circulation,” he wheezes afterwards.

“What? This is how we always watch movies,” you say with a frown.

“Yes, and I always end up with less oxygen than before.”

He doesn’t let you argue, which is good, because you could make a thirty five slide PowerPoint presentation on the advantages of watching movies like this. One, your boyfriend was warm. Two, your boyfriend smelt good. Three, your boyfriend’s ripped body awoke some ancient being inside of you that would not rest until his cock was halfway down your thro—

He hauls you into his lap. The angle forces you to let him go, instead met with the jarring nothingness of having his hot body ripped away. Meanwhile he gets to wrap you up in his arms, hold you like a teddy bear to his chest. “I hate this,” you huff, but the movie is already starting, the beautiful blonde Anneliese appearing on screen. You lean back against his chest, pout still evident. “This is ridiculous,” you snort, her face blown up on this jumbo screen.

“Shut up,” he says, settling in behind you. “Movie’s starting.”

Most Barbie movies you watch end up in one of two ways: either Jungkook falls asleep twenty minutes in or he stays up until the end to critique every aspect of it. With the way he’d gone soft from your early battle, you’re guessing he was going to knock out before the Princess can even meet the Pauper.

As much as you hate to admit it, the huge screen does incite quite a thrill in you. There’s something so nostalgic about watching one of your favorite childhood movies on a screen this huge. The size showcases the sheer perfection that is every single Barbie movie. You lose yourself in the movie, singing along to the opening song and growing agitated when the antagonist appears.

Jungkook says nothing, and you’re half convinced he’s taken his first preferred route and snoozed off, when his fingers twitch around your waist.

There it was.

The occasional dark horse candidate among Barbie movie binges— Jungkook gets weirdly horny and fucks you to the tune of a classic Barbie movie soundtrack.

“Absolutely not,” you say, slapping a hand down over his before he can slip beneath the fabric of your shorts.

He lets out an indignant noise, a puff of air running along the side of your face. You ease his hands back over your stomach, taking extra care to knot your fingers with his. “We’re supposed to be breaking in your new screen,” you remind him, glancing up to catch his unimpressed expression.

He complains quietly, but he settles.

For all of twenty seconds.

“Oh my god,” you sigh, trying to act like the subtle rutting of his cock on your behind was a nuisance and not the luxury it is. “Babe, the jumbo screen… look at it.”

“Not even jumbo,” he murmurs against your ear, hot breath sending a shiver down your spine that has your toes curling. You fight to keep his hands still, but the muscles in his forearm tense, inked skin contracting as he slips them between your thighs. You suck in a sharp inhale, trying to maintain your immovable front. Jungkook sees the fortress you’ve built around yourself in the name of watching The Princess and the Pauper, and spares you no mercy with his attack. His hands massage the skin of your thighs, tiny shorts doing absolutely nothing to save you from him. “Jumbo didn’t fit.”

The back of your mind registers the fact he was apparently trying to get a TV even bigger than this. You tuck it away for later to snitch to his mom. For now, you’d very much appreciate it if he could make you cum before the two girls perform the iconic “I Am a Girl Like You” song.

His hands are so smooth, soft skin tracing over your body like you were nothing but a slab of clay ready to be molded under his touch. He abandons your thighs to creep them under your shirt, where he wastes no time tugging the cups of your bra down to fondle your breasts.

Belatedly, your stupid tongue remembers to move. “I know something jumbo that fits,” you babble, rolling your head back against his shoulder. Jungkook laughs at the utter stupidity of your sentence, and the aforementioned jumbo thing fattens against your ass, before brushing his lips against yours. The airy laughter, one of your favorite sounds in the world, is swallowed up by your greedy mouth. “Can fit in two places, actually,” you murmur when he pulls away.  His fingers massage the doughy skin of your boobs causing your back to arch slightly. “Wherever he wants it to.”

“Really,” Jungkook teases, obviously entertained by your silly dirty talk. He’s grown used to your outlandish remarks in the past few months of your relationship.

You like to believe Jungkook has fully accepted your occasional bouts of weirdness. He’s had the last few months to grow familiar with the inner workings of your mind, and even absorbed some of it into his own personality. Which is why he doesn’t seem the least bit bothered by you referring to his cock as jumbo, when there were admittedly more fitting words to describe it as.

(Thick, juicy, angry, demon cock, if he really wanted to know.)

“Where do you think it should go?” he asks, the low hum of his voice snapping you out or your thoughts. There was no need to daydream about a cock that was right in front of you. His hands slow their gentle caress over you, fingers closing in on your nipples.

A sharp hiss pulls itself from your throat, chest arching as he tugs and toys with your hardened nipples. “Wh-Wherever,” you pant, reaching your own hands down back between your thighs. The phantom of his palms linger, making your hands feel sorely inadequate. “Wherever Daddy wants,” you purr, swallowing harshly when he twists a nipple.

Jungkook groans, resting his forehead against your shoulder. “Don’t,” he sighs, hands faltering over your breasts. Eventually they drift away, settling around your waist as you slip your fingers under the front of your bottoms.

“Why?” you laugh, pointer finger brushing along your clit. “Don’t like it when I call you that, Daddy?”

He lifts his head to watch you play with yourself. His hands grow tight around your waist, labored breath filling the air to harmonize with your breathy moans. You’re absolutely soaking your panties, sticky arousal making the fabric stick to your folds. “You know I do,” he murmurs, watching the outline of your knuckles through the fabric of your shorts. “Thought you wanted to play nice today.” He takes in a sharp inhale when you ease your finger into yourself, a breathy moan escaping from your lips.

You were already so wet, and you’re really not surprised this is how the two of you would break in his new IMAX, high definition flatscreen. Your pussy tightens around your finger, thigh muscles jumping at the intrusion. Fuck, you needed him so bad.

You smirk, drawing your hands out from their hiding spot. The television is the only thing lighting the room, the two of you shrouded in relative darkness. At first, your hand is shadowed by the glow of the screen, nothing more than an outline. But when you turn it just right, the light catches, highlighting the glistening skin of your fingers. It makes Jungkook shudder.

Ever so slowly, you bring your fingers up to his face. The tip of your middle finger runs teasingly against his plump lower lip, his shaky exhales sending a cool breath over your knuckles. “Open, Daddy,” you encourage, watching with rapt attention as he envelopes your fingers between his lips. He sucks, tongue dancing between each digit to slurp off your juices. “Do I taste good? Do you like it?”

You know he loves it, but it never hurts to ask.

Between the two of you, you each had your own share of distinctive interests when it came to sex. Kinks, if you will. You adored the softer, vanilla aspects of sex— the languid makeouts, the slow rutting against his thigh, the whispered praise, the cute pet names. Meanwhile, despite his initially reserved exterior, Jungkook preferred the other end of the spectrum. (You should’ve known from the get go!) He loved it fast and hard, so hard it would make you cry. He liked watching you squirm and beg for his cock while he pushed you to new heights. He liked the sticky, sweaty sex that left you feeling like a used rag beneath him, something you would have never expected given his neat and kind nature.

However, as with all things Jungkook, you always came first. Jungkook’s dream sex style was often pushed to the side in favor of pleasuring you. So quick and rough sex was more of a rare, once in a blue moon, type of luxury. Up until recently, sex had been mostly what you wanted. Either way you did things, Jungkook was fine as long as he got to hold you close.

It was only a few weeks ago that you discovered your shared daddy kink, him obsessed with the idea of shoving you around, something he would otherwise never do. You, on the other hand, found a pleasant satisfaction from being good for him, a stark contrast from your usual sharp tongue and nonexistent filter.

You pull your fingers from his mouth, the sleek drip of your arousal replaced with his saliva. Jungkook grunts as he hauls you further onto his lap, swollen cock nudging itself between your cheeks. “You know I love it, baby,” he growls against your ear. His hot breath fans over your skin, sending shivers down your spine. “Have you had your fun now?” he asks, tracing the pads of his fingers around your nipple teasingly.

“Mhm,” you moan. Jungkook’s hands decide they’re done toying with your tits, drifting back down to their original target between your shorts. “Want Daddy to fuck me now.”

He places a kiss against the side of your neck, right over the vein that runs beneath the skin. Jungkook kisses and nips down your skin, until his hair is tickling your collarbones as he sucks a hickey against the juncture between your neck and shoulder. “Is that the right way to ask for something?” he purrs, rubbing your cunt over your shorts.

It’s nowhere near as fulfilling as it would be without the garments. Nonetheless, it makes you ache for him, thighs quivering at the simple touch like you’re a bumbling virgin being touched for the first time. You’re nowhere near that, but every time with Jungkook was exhilarating enough to the point it felt like it was.

“Pretty please,” you pant, covering his hand with yours.

Jungkook rewards you with a fluttery kiss against your shoulder. “Good girl,” he hums. He finally gives you what you want, bypassing the fabric of your shorts and panties to dip his fingers between your folds. You gasp, hips jumping at the sudden brush of his hands along your quivering folds.

“Inside please,” you whimper, knees moving back and forth, only stopping when he helps you out of your bottoms. He places his free hand on one of them, stilling your writhing to fully focus on pleasing the burning fire inside of you. “Jungkook—“

A slap against your cunt that makes you squeal. “Ah ah,” he warns, voice a low tenor against your skin. If you focus hard enough, you can feel the faint brush of a smirk against your neck. “We’re playing a different game right now, pretty girl.”

On screen, your favorite childhood movie is bearing witness to the sinful acts at your boyfriend’s hands. It shouldn’t be surprising how easily you fall into his arms, onto his lap, especially with your history of movie watching with Jungkook.

From your very first date you were enamored with him; the dip of his Cupid’s bow, so innocent and cute, embodied every single aspect of his personality. He was the sweetest, softest boy, one your brain could never conjure in a thousand years. Jungkook’s level of care was hard to come by nowadays; he was a gentleman through and through.

These days he was growing out of that mature persona, and you like to think it’s thanks to you. Your wildness rubbed off on him, made him confident enough to geek out in public, or be adventurous in private. It helped nourish his impulsivity, which led to things like the Super Bowl Jumbotron watching you fuck now.

Despite knowing all this, knowing the way he is, the slow grind against your ass sends a thrill of arousal up your limbs, sensations converging just beneath your mound. “Yes, Daddy,” you mewl accordingly.

Pleased with your obedience, he rewards you by circling your throbbing clit with his thumb. It’s a terribly slow motion, pad of his finger easing over your engorged bud every other second. You wanted more, needed more. You squirm beneath him, attempting to push your clit against his palm. Your efforts are in vain when he clamps a hand down on your waist. “Sit still,” he growls.

You whimper. “Need more,” you rasp out. Your whole body is acting out now, shifting and turning as you try to wiggle closer. Your mouth brushes against his jawline. The sharp angle is the first thing your muddled thoughts focus on, lips hungrily latching onto his porcelain skin to suck a purple blossom onto it.

Any other day Jungkook would bask in the attention, let you bruise his skin up until he was violet from love.

Today... well.

You were playing a different game.

The hand that had been exploring your nether regions suddenly snaps up, catching your chin between his fingers. The wetness that has coated his digits smears messily across your skin, and you whimper when he squishes your cheeks beneath his fingers.

“No ‘please’?” he huffs, turning your head to meet his eyes.

Dark chocolate eyes you’ve come to associate with love and adoration stare back at you unimpressed. His pronounced brow bone twitches, like he’s holding the true intensity of his glare back for your own sake. He slots his mouth against yours with no warning, tongue pushing its way past your lips. It’s messy, his tongue licking into your mouth like you’re nothing but a lollipop for him to suck on. It pulls a surprised moan from your lips that he swallows quickly enough, biting down on your lower lip harshly. When he pulls away, he’s got that same bored look on his face. You feel small under such a cold look, shoulders scrunching up damn near your ears in a subtle attempt to hide from him.

The action makes Jungkook scoff as he leans away from you. He leaves you on his lap alone, like a tiny island desperate to join the main land. You shuffle around in a hurry, looping your arms around his neck in a last ditch effort to calm him down. It does nothing for Jungkook, who only prods his tongue along his cheek as he regards you with a calculating gaze.

After a moment, he finally says, “on your knees.”

Your heart falls out of your chest. “Huh?” you whisper hoarsely, wide eyes taking in his unimpressed expression. “Knees? But Daddy,” you whine, lower lip quivering as you glance down at the hardwood floor.

Anywhere else you wouldn’t have minded. In fact, anywhere else you would’ve been on the floor before the sentence even left his mouth. You loved sucking his dick almost as much as he loved eating you out. However your knees were embarrassingly frail against hard flooring, which is why most blowjobs had been administered in the comfort of his bed or the couch. Sometimes on carpeted surfaces, but Jungkook never pushed when he knew you would be aching the whole time.

Which is why his current demand has you standing stiff. “O-On the floor?” you murmur.

The stark truth was that Jungkook had you terribly spoiled. His constant pampering had convinced you you were invincible. His love was practically handed to you on a silver plate, cloth napkin folded like a crane beside it. He had never made you do something you didn’t like, and he had never put you in an uncomfortable position, mentally or physically.

Until now.

Jungkook gestures for the ground with a curt nod. “Is there a problem?” he inquires.

You look back again, eye the dark wood planks beneath you, glossed over enough to make them shine even in this weak light. “No,” you belatedly respond, slowly pushing yourself off his lap and onto your feet. Your big shirt falls back down, covers the tops of your thighs as you stand nude from the waist down. You’re tempted to just yank it down even more, hide beneath the cloth so he doesn’t have to see you whine and bitch about your knees aching.

Jungkook was so cool. He was so suave and composed. He was the opposite of you, which is why the two of you meshed so well together. You’ve thought about it about ten times tonight, but it was true. Despite all that, there were times his mature exterior made you feel small— small and silly. Like now, with him sitting against the sofa, dark eyes tracing up your legs in amusement.

You sink to the ground, very pointedly avoiding his gaze. The wooden slats are cold and hard beneath your knees, your kneecap immediately screaming in discomfort. Jungkook leans forward with his elbows on his knees, messy curls covering half of his face. “You know,” he hums, reaching out to trail his knuckles across your cheekbone. “I kinda like having you like this,” he admits, “below me like the good little girl you are.”

Your breath stutters as it leaves your lungs, fidgeting hands tugging at the front hem of your shirt in a feeble attempt to cover yourself up. Jungkook smirks at the movement, eventually retracting his hand to give you one, condescending pat on the head.

A hearty sigh escapes his lips as he settles back onto the couch cushions. “Keep me entertained, will you?” You gawk, but you know it’s not a question. He reaches over for the remote to turn the volume up on the Barbie movie.

Your favorite song on the entire soundtrack is playing, almost mocking you as you shuffle closer to him. Two hands tentatively placed on his thighs as the two animated maidens flounce around the screen. He doesn’t bat a single lash your way, eyes focused on the huge screen behind you instead.

His sweatpants give away easily, elastic band snapping away from hips. You have to fight that and his boxers down, Jungkook sitting like an immovable boulder in front of you. You barely manage to free his cock— the same jumbo cock you had referred to earlier —and it almost slaps you across the face from the force of its recoil. Your breath catches in your throat, a short-lived squeal as you flinch at the movement.

The sound causes him to look your way, over the bridge of his nose. “Do you mind?” he says scornfully. “I’m trying to watch a movie.”

“S-Sorry,” you stammer, quickly grasping his cock between your fist.

But apparently you’re doing everything wrong tonight. Jungkook hisses. “Shit— would it kill you to lick it first? Like you’re trying to start a damn fire on my cock,” he mumbles, head lolling back to watch the screen again.

You move in slower this time, careful to lick your palm before trying to grab him. When you do, it’s even more delayed, fingers hesitantly tightening around his swollen member. You’re trying to gauge his reaction, worried eyes flickering up to him every few seconds. Jungkook doesn’t object, craning his neck to the side to crack a joint there. With his clearance you carry on.

The strokes are slow at first, hand barely reaching over his tip like he likes. You’re weirdly anxious you’ll mess up for him, make him look at you with contempt. You suppose it’s because of the game you’re playing that you’re on edge. Usually, Jungkook adheres to your rules, soft as they may be, and he never pushes where you don’t want. Tonight, it’s like you’re a show dog desperate to impress her owner. In short, you were his bitch.

You loved it.

As much as you wanted to be good for him, the mere thought of your normally sweet-hearted boyfriend glaring down at you does something to you, makes your pussy clench.

It’ll haunt you for weeks. The image of such unimpressed eyes leveled your way because you couldn’t handle his dick will stain the insides of your eyelids. Even though he’ll brush it off, kiss you and tell you it’s fine, the inner conceited hoe in you will never let it go, will recall the memory every time your hand is under your panties.

Still, you’re terribly desperate to impress him. He was your other half, your lover, your sweetheart, your goddamn king; he deserved only the best— not some half-assed, scaredy-cat blowjob that would leave him reeling back afterwards.

With that belief and a sticky blob of spit later, you’re pushing him into your throat. It’s the first reaction you get since he’d started feeling you up, a deep, raspy groan straight from the pits of hell, that has you working even harder to swallow his cock down. “That’s it,” he pants, carding his fingers through your hair. “Good girl.”

You positively mewl under the praise, tongue growing heavy in your mouth as you swallow more and more of him down. The hard tip of his cock pulses inside, rubbing against your palate and then your throat. A gag catches in your throat, one you quickly subdue by shifting your hips.

Fuck, he was so big. Just the feeling of his cock brashly rubbing against the corners of your lips has you fantasizing about how he’ll undoubtedly stretch your pussy apart later. You moan, letting your eyes flutter shut as you try to wave those images away.

When his cock hits the back of your throat, you’re ten chapters deep into an erotic novel all about sucking Jungkook‘s dick. If your eyes weren’t already shut you’re certain they’d be at the back of your head anyway. It twitches against your tongue, one thick bead of precum sliding down your throat.

It seems to be the final straw for Jungkook, who clamps a hand down on the back of your head, forcefully pulling you away only to shove you down again. With his grip in your hair, he really goes to town. You whimper at his brutal movements, his cock nudging the back of your throat with every harsh tug of your hair. The slippery, wet glide of his cock against your mouth fills the room with a lewd squelching that drowns out the movie.

Your pussy quivers with each new intrusion, thighs pressing together as if that will quell the searing ache between them. It doesn’t, and when Jungkook finally bursts in your mouth, creamy cum splattering against your tongue and lips, it only grows.

“Fuck,” he growls, pushing you away as he sinks back into the cushions. His chest heaves beneath the material of his t-shirt, sweat dripping down from his hairline. Normally, you’d take this opportunity to crawl back onto his lap, lick and kiss away at his body while he recovered. But truthfully, you were both still new to this whole experience so there were still the occasional lulls between actions.

Sensing your uncertainty, Jungkook tugs you onto his lap. He presses one soft kiss against your cheek, eyes momentarily losing their hard edge to assure you everything is fine. You give him a tiny nod, as if assuring him you’re okay. He presses his mouth to yours, plush lips soothing over your raw lips. It’s brief, the kiss; he guides you through it but switches back quickly. He pulls away and bites down harshly on the side of your neck. “So perfect for me, pretty girl,” he murmurs, soothing his bite over with a swipe of his tongue.

You dissolve into a mushy puddle on his lap, muscles growing weak from his touch. Jungkook kisses down your neck, over your t-shirt clad chest, before he’s nudging you back down onto the cushions. With him looming over you, your body instinctively has you spreading your legs apart. His t-shirt comes up with one yank over his shoulders, sinewy muscles coming into view.

“Yum,” you whisper, hands reaching up to trail over his v-line. They’re quickly slapped away, a startled gasp pulled from your lips as Jungkook takes your wrists in his hands.

One shapely brow is raised in your direction. “Did I say you could touch?” he murmurs, pinning your hands above your head. A gasp catches in your throat from his close proximity. You subconsciously tilt your head up, try to brush your mouth against his, only to be denied with a subtle turn of his face. “How do you want it, pretty?” he asks, releasing the tight grip around your wrists.

Immediately, you latch around his broad shoulders, fingers tracing over the muscles of his arms until they meet at the base of his neck. “However you want,” you purr, pulling him closer until your bodies are aligned, the warm heat of his frame over yours. You kiss the spot beneath his ear once before he trails his lips down.

Jungkook mouths against your shoulder, lips tracing over the juncture where it meets your neck. “Hm,” he hums, taking a tiny sliver of skin between his teeth. “And if I said I wanted it hard?”

His proposal is followed by a slow roll of his hips against your throbbing core, the same dick you had just choked on gliding along your folds. You whimper, toes curling as the pleasure washes over you. Every ridge, ever vein of his hardened cock runs along your sensitive folds, reminding you of the aching flame inside of you. “Th-That’s fine,” you pant, leg lazily thrown over his hip. His hands trail over your waist, collecting your t-shirt as they move up your body until it’s pushed over the swell of your breasts.

When the material is finally discarded off to the side, leaving you in that flimsy bra Jungkook that snaps off, he strikes again. His tongue laps over your collarbone first, pouty lips ghosting over the skin as he makes his way to your breast. He takes one hardened peak into his mouth, drawing a shaky inhale from you. He rolls it between his teeth, tongue flicking the sensitive nub as you squirm beneath him.

Eventually he pulls away with a wet pop. Jungkook smirks, a soft puff of air fanning over your newly bruised skin. “Aren’t you the prettiest little thing.” He pushes away from you with one strong arm, looking down at you with an unreadable expression on his face. “Watch the movie,” he says.

You blink. “Huh?”

Before you know it, he’s tugging you back up onto your feet. He pushes you around, nearly sends you toppling over the coffee table as he positions you to his liking. “Kook!” you exclaim, palms slapping down against the glass tabletop in an effort to catch yourself. Just barely, your reflection glares back up at you.

A tap against your pussy startles you from the sight. “Wha—“

Two hands grab onto your biceps, tugging you up forcefully until your back arches, leaving you bent at a ninety degree angle before him. “Look, sweetheart,” he coos against your ear, voice deep enough that it vibrates through every bone in your body. Your breath stutters in your throat, exhilaration blossoming in your chest. “It’s your favorite movie.”

It is in fact your favorite movie, the same one you had fought tooth and nail just moments prior to watch. On screen, the two damsels are exploring new things in their lives, just how you were experiencing Jungkook’s true intensity for the first time. “It is,” you quietly confirm, back aching from the position.

Jungkook either doesn’t care about your depleting strength or really trusts in you not to faceplant onto his glass coffee table, palms sliding down to the crease of your elbows to hold you. “Tell me what it’s about,” he says

Just as the words leave his mouth, something hard and wet prods against your folds. “Oh,” you cry, fists tightening into balls as the feeling overwhelms you. “Jungkook, please.”

One elbow is let go, and the abrupt release has you scrambling to catch yourself, your glass reflection coming a little too close. This becomes even more difficult when a hand suddenly strikes down hard against your ass, a startled yelp escaping you. Just as quickly as you were released, Jungkook wastes no time snatching your back up, yanking you back until your cunt runs along his cock again.

“C’mon, pretty, thought you knew better,” he sighs playfully.

“I’m sorry,” you whimper, chest heaving with every slow roll of his hips. Your pussy was sopping, desperate to be filled with something. It was even worse knowing his dick was right there, just inches outside of where you need him most. “I’m sorry, Daddy,” you repeat.

Jungkook chuckles, and your heart backflips when he finally begins lining himself up. “It’s okay,” he assures you, in that same gentle tone he uses when you accidentally shove the wrong food down the sink disposal. “Baby’s still learning,” he says, pressing a chaste kiss against your shoulder as he begins pushing himself in. Just the head of his cock proves to be a struggle, swollen tip stretching your entrance wide. There’s an extra sting today from your half-hearted preparation, the both of you relying solely on your own arousal and excitement to let him in. It’s a nice kick.

When he finally pops past that initial tightness, you swear you could transcend into another dimension from the absolute feeling of euphoria that washes over you. “Fuck,” you mewl, fighting against his tight hold. Your efforts are in vain, ultimately choosing to drop your head down as the ecstasy continues to wash over you with each inch he offers you.

A warning squeeze around your wrist. “Language,” Jungkook reprimands, though his voice is strained and light.

You nod mindlessly, toes curling against the wooden floor. “It-It feels so good,” you whine. Your knees wobble dangerously beneath you, until you’re swaying just the slightest bit.

He gives until there’s nothing left, the soft hairs around his dick tickling your lips as he reaches the hilt. “There we go,” he grunts, giving you one final tug to make sure this is as far as he can go. You squeal, the brush against your walls making you ridiculously high. “That’s my girl.”

The praise has your stomach tightening, the pretty images flashing across the screen completely lost on you. You felt so full. The two of you rarely did it like this, without looking at each other straight on, but there was something about Jungkook’s looming figure being distorted by your brain’s memory, his touches wild and unpredictable, that made something inside of you twitch.

“Ohhh,” you whimper, muscles going slack for the briefest moment. The only thing that saves you from falling over is the killer grip on your forearms; when he tugs you up his cock runs along your pulsing walls. “Please, Daddy,” you beg, mouth feeling a thousand times heavier.

“The movie,” he repeats, slowly beginning to pull away from your clenching heat. You moan. “Tell me what it’s about,” he husks, punctuating his seemingly innocent statement with a harsh snap of his hips.

You wail, stumbling forward at the intensity. Still, it’s just a taste of what he has in store for you. He soon picks a pace, not too rushed or slow, as you struggle to keep your eyes open. “I-I don’t know,” you choke out, the images flashing across the gigantic screen practically unrecognizable to your muddled thoughts.

Behind you Jungkook tuts at your incompetence, thrusting forward with an intensity that would have sent you flying if not for the grip he has on you. “You don’t know?” he huffs, tugging your elbows back again as if to secure his grip on you.

His hips are moving fast now, every piston into your warm heat making you tremble. “Fffuck,” you gasp, eyes rolling to the back of your head as he continues ramming his cock into your pulsing hole. You’re met with a harsh yank that pulls you snugly onto his cock, your entire body screaming at the way he nudges against your cervix. Despite the pleasure it gives you, Jungkook seems anything but pleased.

“C’mon,” he huffs, twisting your arms painfully behind your back. “What did we say about that dirty mouth?” His question is followed with a snap of his hips that makes you choke on your spit. “Need you to be good for me, baby,” he groans.

“I-I am good,” you weakly defend, head hanging down limply as you fight to regain some semblance of your senses. But everything feels too much, from the rough push of his hips to the tight grip on your arms. His cock pulls out nearly all the way each time, swollen tip the only thing stopping him. Every thrust makes you quiver, every touch makes you melt.

You suppose he’d been too lenient on you up until now, and that final claim makes him snap. Jungkook scoffs, ramming his dick inside of you. “You’re being fucking terrible right now, doll,” he admits, hammering into you like a crazed man. You sob, the coil in your belly tightening with every brutal shove of his cock. It’s something about the way his composure withers away, all sweetness melting off as he thrusts into your cunt. “I’ve asked you twice now what the damn movie was about, and you didn’t answer either time.”

A hand clamps around your throat suddenly, yanking you up right until his breath fans across your ear. You’re not sure when your eyes had become so teary, but the images flickering across the screen are a foggy mess you couldn’t decipher even if you tried. “__,” he rasps against your ear, his voice scratchy. “Tell me. Now.”

You whimper as he shoves his way back inside, the angry head of his cock testing you. “T-Two girls, one’s a princess,” you cry, knees wobbling as the feeling in your core grows. “They look alike, and-and…”

“And?” Jungkook asks as you trail off, his words followed by a particularly brutal surge of his hips. His cock glides against your walls easily despite the way you clench around him.

“A-And they have problems they wanna avoid,” you stammer, the plot slipping in and out of your mind with every roll of his cock into your core. “So-so they swap places.”

Behind you, Jungkook snorts. “What a stupid fucking movie,” he says meanly, before he begins to piston his cock into you. You’re trembling by now, your orgasm looming over your head with each thrust.

Before you can warn him, the thin string holding you together snaps, the sudden flood of relief making your knees buck dangerously. Jungkook barely has enough time to catch you around the waist, holding you against him as a litany of curses and his name come spewing out of your mouth. “No, no,” you wail, your entire body twitching as the orgasm rolls over you. “Kook— Jungkook!”

“I’ve got you,” he reassures you, fingers holding you tight around the waist. The coffee table you had feared cracking your skull on finally comes to use as you press your hands onto the surface in a feeble attempt to steady yourself.

“I’m sorry,” you whimper, faintly aware of the rock hard cock between your pulsing walls, probably drenched in your cum now. “I-I didn’t—“

He shushes you quickly, settling the two of you back onto the couch. Funnily enough, he doesn’t bother pulling you off of him, his dick snug inside your cunt as he seats you on his lap. “You’re alright, sweetheart,” he comforts, hands soothingly running up your sides. You want to protest, want to get back on your knees and give him another chance to cum all over your face, but Jungkook nudges your chin with a knuckle. “Watch your movie,” he croons.

The Princess and the Pauper is literally the last thing on your mind right now; didn’t he realize how much you wanted to please him? Why was he choosing now to be so stubborn? Oh, that Jeon Jungkook, maybe Doyeon was right to call him an airhead.

Your slander campaign against your boyfriend is cut short when a hand flutters over your mound, thumb idly tracing over your sensitive clit. Before you can turn and look at him, Jungkook is rutting his hips against you slowly. “The screen, baby,” he says, and you want to argue that you can’t possibly enjoy a movie with him being so sneaky beneath you. The words get washed away when he presses down on your clit.

“Koo— Daddy,” you whine, lower lips still trembling from the orgasm you had two minutes ago. Jungkook responds with a kiss against your shoulder, hands trailing around your waist.

“No more of that,” he mumbles as he begins bouncing you on his cock. You moan, every inhale cut short by the shallow thrusts of his cock into your delicate walls. “Just your Kook now.”

“My… Kook,” you pant dreamily. Your cum provides an even better lubricant than before, lewd squelches filling the area alongside your cries as Jungkook chases both your second orgasms.

“Mhmm,” he groans, jostling you over his lap with no rhythm whatsoever. “Yours, baby.” You stretch your hands back, carding one set of fingers through the hair above his ear, pushing the strands away from his face. “Just like you’re mine.”

Something inside of you tightens painfully, and you’re not sure if it’s your heart or your pussy. You guess it’s both, as you stutter out, “y-your pretty girl?” Jungkook hums in agreement, repeating your favorite nickname back to you. The rest of your words die out between the two of you, lost in the slow and soft movements that fill in. You want to tell him you love him, adore him like no other, but every breath of air is stolen away by him.

Eventually the two of your are cumming, your second orgasms much quieter and slower compared to your first. You still mewl, wither against him when you cream his cock, and Jungkook catches you all the same. He guides you through the fog with kisses against your jaw, your dripping pussy helping him through his own.

When all is said and done and you’re both basking in a post-orgasmic make-out, you realize how sweaty and icky you are. “Ugh, this is gross,” you pout as he wiggles you off his lap. He pushes you beside him, letting you flop over the length of the couch as he reaches for something to clean you up with.

“You’re gross,” he retorts softly, blinking in that slow, drawn out way he does when you know he’s sleepy. His t-shirt runs along your neck, collecting the sweat there.

You nudge him with your foot. “I’m not the one who wanted to fuck during a Barbie movie,” you scoff, pinching the skin on his forearm when his gaze lingers a second too long on your creamy pussy. “Look somewhere else, weirdo.”

Jungkook laughs quietly, looking at you with an adoring expression on his face. He doesn’t even finish cleaning you off, tossing the soiled shirt somewhere off to the side in favor of cuddling into you. “Where? My Jumbotron?” he teases, raining down a parade of kisses against your face. “Don't wanna,” he smiles, too soft and boyish for the words that leave his lips next. “Wanna lick your pretty pussy clean.”

“Jeon Jungkook,” you scold, covering your face with your palms in embarrassment. “Look at your stupid IMAX screen and leave me alone.”

He cackles loudly now, in that evil witch way it took him a while to show you, and you know he’s got that big silly grin on his face now. . “The IMAX screen? The same one that made you,” a pause, “climax?”

“Get off of me.”

——

Just as you predicted, Jungkook’s mom gives him the scolding of a lifetime when she drops by the next weekend. The poor woman nearly faints at the theater screen on the wall, only to quickly regain herself. You giggle from your spot on the couch as she whacks his stupidly ripped bicep with the leek you’re supposed to chop up for dinner later.

What you’re not expecting is for her anger to shift to you as she scolds you for letting her idiotic son make such purchases. She gets one playful thwack against your side with the leek before your charming idiotic boyfriend swoops in to save you.

——

Copyright © August 2020, 1kook on tumblr. absolutely NO reposts allowed.

[hehebread]

[BKDK] Izuku keeps mentioning a Kacchan to reporters and they think that's his gf

this was a request on twt that i had way too much fun writing. warning for suggestive language!

--

“And is there…. a special person….or a group of people you would like to thank on air today? Anyone who inspired you? Anyone you would attribute your success to? An image of victory per say?”

Izuku’s eyes glimmer as the bright lights of the studio reflect on his irises. “Oh!” He jumps in his seat, his perfectly- coiffed curls bouncing as he nods frantically to the show’s host. “Yes! Yes!” Leaning forward with his hands on his leg, the camera zooms in on his face where the blush is painting his cheeks. “I wouldn’t be the hero I am today if it wasn’t for Kacchan!”

And it’s as if an earthquake alert dropped on the talk show. The host grows this devious grin on his face as he turns to the camera team and says, “Well, well, well, behind every great man is a woman after all.”

Izuku isn’t quite sure why the host is bringing his mother into this since the interview is reaching its end and he has already discussed her influence in detail very early on, but he doesn’t get a chance to ponder.

The host, Yamaguchi-san, leans into Izuku’s space with renowned interest and an interesting glint in his eyes. Izuku feels himself sweating in his oversized maroon-striped suit.

“So, Midoriya-san, Hero Deku, Rising Symbol of Equity and Hope, can you tell us more about … Kacchan?” His voice goes higher at the last syllable, almost sing songs, and Izuku is not sure if he should be worried or not, but he won’t pass an opportunity to gush about Kacchan!

“Ah, Kacchan is very … confident, hardworking, strong, and smart. Kacchan is a hero who knows how to lead a team and perform under pressure, an inspiration to both myself and our entire graduating class, and a”—Izuku can feel the heat rise in his face as he tries to hide in his colour— “a shining star who was closer to me than All Might!”

The host makes a loud ‘AWWW’ noise at the same time as the small audience in the studio. “My, my! Sounds like Kacchan is very important to Hero Deku! Don’t be shy! Tell us more! Is there a physical description to go with your precious person?”

“Ahm!” Izuku fiddles with his fingers as he avoids the gazes on him. There a long beat of silence before he manages to say, “Muscles….Blonde…..Sharp eyes….” With a vague gesture to his middle section, he mumbles, barely audible, “Big, ugh…..” Heart.

“OOOOOOOOOH!” The host goes wild and so does the audience. “So are we talking Hiromi Oshima type big or maybe Rio Natsume, or aaaah Aki Hoshino even ….?”

Izuku feels his ears ring in humiliation as he tries to process what they’re talking about. Something Kacchan has in common with all these beautiful women is his big successful career so Izuku nods. “Yes!” Then, a thought occurs and he rises in his chair. “Even bigger!”

After all, Kacchan’s net worth is higher than these ladies.

“BIGGER?”

“The biggest!”

“Oh my god!” The host is losing his mind now! “And is it … natural? Or did Kacchan get a little help from professionals?”

“No, no, no! Kacchan was a natural ever since we were in school together!” Izuku’s eyes shine with a fire to defend his childhood best friend, no longer trying to hide in his big suit. “No one helped Kacchan get this big!”

“That’s … amazing!” The host shakes his head in both awe and disbelief. “Now we want to see Kacchan in action! When the hero works around the city, defeating villains, does the size get in the way?”

Does Kacchan’s fame get in the way of his work? “Sometimes,” Izuku muses, “But Kacchan never lets the restless and perky nuisances stop him, y’know. With a little shake from his hands, and a few colourful words of wisdoms, nothing gets in the way!” Izuku laughs as he remembers Kacchan’s way of dismissing fans and reporters alike.

“Wow!”

“Of course, there are times where Kacchan’s big firm moulds become springy and hard to control, but I have yet to see an instance where that has been a major issue. ”

Kacchan is still having some adjustment problems with his new hero costume, particularly his grenade mould, but that’s as far as distractions go.

“Does Kacchan not use support?”

“Uhm, only when it’s a dire situation! Sometimes I’m even allowed to provide assistance!”

“You must be very lucky…”

“I am! It feels … exciting and … very special! Kacchan doesn’t trust just anyone, y’know! I can never quite get used to the trust we built together. We are one unit working together.”

“Do you use your hands…. Or something else?”

“Oh, hands! Yes! But anything works really! Whatever Kacchan is comfortable with and needs at the time. Black Whip, combo moves, an iron grip...”

The host furrow his brows and seems to be considering Izuku’s answer before he opens his mouth again. “Uhm, never mind.” He then turns to the camera, smile back on. “Our time is almost running out! Thank you, hero Deku for your time! We look forward to seeing you again in the big screen!”

--

The next day, Izuku wakes up to the headline: Hero Deku And His Mysterious Busty New Girlfriend: The Beautiful and Spunky Kacchan!

He’s doomed

--

He sees Kacchan early the next day.

Having spent the morning talking to tabloids and the host show agents about the misunderstanding and whether or not it was possible to take down the episode at least, Izuku slumps his head on his desk in defeat.

Oh, this is very bad.

He starts thumping his forehead on the wood in sync with the bleeps noises in the phone, already planning his funeral in his head.

Okay, so it seems the suspense around this girlfriend is raking up his popularity, but god, at what cost.

“Nerd, we need to talk.”

Izuku’s soul near flies to the roof at the sound of the door to his office slamming close. Fuckfuckfuck.

Kacchan stands before him with his hand on his hip, teeth snarled and looking ready to tear his flesh open. Oh, this is going to be fun!

After flashing a haughty glare at the glass door to scare away the nosy friends hanging about, Kacchan continues, “About the interview.”

Of course! Yes! His final hour is approaching. “Haahahaha, what about it?” Izuku feels his undershirt cling to his torso, sweat collecting on his face. He directs a shaky hand to a nearby chair. “Feel free to take a seat, Kacchan! You want me to get you anything? Water, tissues, uhm, a knife, a body sized bag, or uhhh, a shovel? I think I have some spare sheets of paper if you’d like to give me a chance to—“

“So…” Kacchan starts.

“PLEASE TELL MY MUM I LOVE HER!”

“…this Kacchan, huh?” Having completely ignored every single word Izuku just said, Kacchan crosses his arms and scowls. “Is she strong? How come I never heard about her before? Since when did you start dating this gravure idol and pro hero, huh?”

“Wha—?”

“So, you just go around giving everyone pretty nicknames now?” Kacchan snorts and his expression darkens before he slams his hands on Izuku’s desk. He looks at Izuku from under his chin, and Izuku swear he can see flames behind his eyes. He growls, “What’s her actual name?”

An alarm bell rings in Izuku’s ears and he stutters, “Ka— Ka— Kat— Katsuko! Bakugan Katsuko…….”

Kacchan’s expression doesn’t change and Izuku feels his heart leap to his throat. God, Kacchan is gonna call his bluff at any minute now. He’s going to reject him then he’s going to break his heart and his bones.

“What’s she like?”

Kacchan shifts forward slightly and Izuku is just know noticing the ample cleavage in clear view. Right there. In front of Izuku’s face. “Uhm. Ah, she’s very, ugh, im- pec— impeccable!! And strong! Muscl— mature!! Breasty too – I mean, pretty! PRETTY!” Izuku bites his tongue then swallows thickly. “Beautiful, actually!” Lifting his gaze to meet Kacchan, he whispers, “Gorgeous. Just the most amazing person in my life.”

Kacchan is staring intently with his sharp red eyes, and Izuku feels his chest swell with confidence he never had before. “Kacchan is my inspiration, and I just … love … Kacchan so much. I wish I had the courage to tell him— um, her that.”

“Are you two serious?” Kacchan asks, impassive but there is silent rage hiding behind his words.

Something flashes quickly through Kacchan’s eyes before he narrows them. It takes Izuku a second to recognise that it’s /hurt/ and then he realise what he has just done.

“No, no, no!” Izuku backtracks immediately. “I don’t even know her that well! In fact, she kinda smells and definitely has sweating problem.” Izuku needs to do damage control and come clean NOW. “You know what? I will call her and break up with her right now. Ha ha ha.”

What the hell is he saying? Who is he going to call?

Kacchan stands up while Izuku fumbles with his phone. “Don’t be a dick,” he says, before he heads to the door.

Izuku jumps from his chair and is ready to chase after him when Kacchan stops him. “How big?”

“Huh?”

“You said Bakugan was big.”

Ah, yes, he did. Tragically.

“Um, y’know just…” Izuku motions with his hands like he’s moulding two doughballs, palms up and fingers wiggling because he’s lost control of his life once he accepted his funeral date, but that’s not even happening anymore so what is he doing really.

He then makes am hourglass shape in the air and belatedly realises that he’s just outlining Kacchan’s shape in front of him. Izuku retreats his hands and puts them behind his back in shame.

Kacchan is looking at him funny. Like he’s trying to figure something out.

“Does she shoot aerial bomb or something? Is that a combat-style quirk?”

Izuku blinks.

Kacchan just sneers and turns around.

“Whatever. I’m doing a photoshoot this afternoon. The Sekushī clothing line is dropping a new summer set and they asked me to model.”

“Se- Sekushi?? You mean, like—” Izuku feels his face go impossibly red. “You’re saying that, you’re going to wear, like…..” his voice goes down to a whisper when he says “…..a b-b-b-b-b-bikini?”

“Swimwear,” Kacchan turns to say over his shoulder, “Among other things.”

The sexy smirk he sends Izuku’s way is doing very, very weird things to Izuku’s body and imagination, things too inappropriate to describe in a work setting.

Kacchan leaves but not without offering the most dangerous challenge to Izuku’s mental wellbeing. “Feel free to drop in.”

Oh, he absolutely will.

“Bring Bakugon.”

Oh, he absolutely will not.

Actually….

Maybe, he will.

Kacchan is going to ruin Izuku

[songbirdsingingthings]

Midnight Revelations - Katsuki Bakugou x Reader

DISCLAIMER: I do not own any of these characters, they belong to Kohei Horikoshi

MHA Masterlist - Main Masterlist

WARNINGS: Fluff, Swearing (It’s Bakugou, so, that’s kinda a given)

Requested by @luluwiie​ :

Given your gift for writing, I'm honestly utterly surprised your box is not already full :o but this is my chance ! Kuhuhu * robbing hands *

May I request a Todoroki or Bakugo one shot (Just choose whether you feel more inspired with one, another or both) where they are just sharing some moments with reader, and like, they enjoy their time with Reader and when they come back to their dorms, alone in their bedroom, they just realize how much they care for Reader? Like, more than their close friend and partner in crimes ? Like, more in a pining way? I just love emotional epiphanies 😳❤

Tysm if you do this ! CANT WAIT TO READ YOU MORE ❤❤

- Luluv

A/N: YOU’RE LITERALLY THE SWEETEST ❤❤❤. I had a lot of fun writing this one since Bakugou is such an interesting character, so I hope you enjoy!! (Also, the song “True Love” by P!NK was playing nonstop in my head while writing this.)

Word Count: 1.9K

If it was within his control, Katsuki Bakugou would be fast asleep in his own bed by now. It made sense to him - the sky was completely dark making the stars clearly visible and it was already past 10:30 p.m., so why on earth was he awake? The short and simplest answer yielded the same result; you. How you had wedged yourself in between him and his strict sleep schedule, Bakugou had no idea, so here he was, sat with a grimace on his face as you tried to work out the last math problem on the long homework sheet Ectoplasm had assigned.

“Wait, so when it’s a hyperbola, it’s a²- b² = c²?” You ask, glancing in between the blonde-haired boy sat next to you and the sheet full of conic section equations. Bakugou just looked at you with a mixture of a tired and dumbfounded expression.

“No, idiot, it’s a²+ b² = c² because the standard form uses subtraction. It’s the other way around for ellipses.” He explains gruffly, taking your mechanical pencil and writing down the equation roughly. However, due to the sheer force of his hand on the poor little pencil, the led snapped off. You laughed a little at the outburst that followed shortly after.

“Bakugou, don’t press so hard, the lead is thinner.” You say, taking the pencil from his hand gingerly. He simply scoffs in return.

“Yeah, well, normal pencils don’t do that. Get better ones next time.” He hurumphs, leaning back in his chair and letting his head hang off the back. He remains like this for a few minutes while you scribble down the rest of your equations, ultimately coming to a solution.

“Okay, I think I got it! Is it… (y+5)²/9 - (x - 4)²/25?” With a hesitant voice and a hopeful expression, you push the homework sheet in front of Bakugou to hopefully gain his approval. You wince as he scans your work carefully, raising his eyebrows on certain occasions. Finally, he sets the paper down and slides it back over to you. “Well?” You ask, a little exasperated.

“Yeah, that’s the correct answer.” With a sigh of relief you slumped back into your chair with a smile on your face. However, that only lasted for a few seconds. “Wait, then what the hell were those facial expressions when you were looking at it?” You ask, taking the math sheet and putting it in a folder that was then shoved into your school bag.

“Your handwriting is shit.” Is all Bakugou had to say as he stood up and stretched his arms out. You roll your eyes and glance at the clock.

“Damn, it’s already 11:15.” You murmur, letting one of your hands card through your hair, massaging your head and releasing the tension that was built up by doing several pages of pre-calc. “Thanks, by the way. You didn’t need to stay this late to help me out, so I really appreciate it.” You say, expressing your gratitude to the blonde. Bakugou rubs his eyes before slinging his bag over his shoulder, letting his blazer stay unbuttoned and his tie loose around his neck. You had to admit, his somewhat disheveled look did look quite attractive on him, but if you told him that he would either never let you hear the end of it or get pissed off for commenting on his fashion. He already got enough of that from his parents, apparently. 

“Yeah, I didn’t, and now thanks to you I’m gonna be tired as hell in the morning.” He complains, opening the door to your dorm to exit.

“You know, a cold compress does wonders for eyebags.” You say, a mischievous grin on your face. He narrows his eyes and flips you off. “I enjoyed spending time with you too, Bakugou!” And with that, the door to your dorm was closed.

Katsuki felt like a zombie by the time he got to his own dorm. He didn’t even bother putting his school bag on his desk or arranging his shoes by the door like he usually does. Instead, he just let the brown shoulder bag slump onto the floor as he fumbled to get his shoes off. Why the hell had you made him stay for so long? He finished all of his homework hours before you did, and still, he had to remain stationed at that wooden low table as he had to keep himself busy while you plugged away at your own work. After about an hour, looking through his phone got incredibly boring so he moved on to looking around your room, taking in all of the things that made it up. Of course, he wasn’t doing this to try to get to know you more, he already knew all he needed to… right? But as his eyes raked over the photos and decor of your room, the more glimpses he got into your personal life, so he stopped immediately.

Bakugou did make an effort to change his clothes. Peeling his blazer from his arms and hanging it up haphazardly in his closet along with his white button up. He tugged on a random black shirt and swapped his uniform pants for pajama ones and finally, finally, clambered into his bed. And, although he tried hard to make his brain shut off and just let him enter a dreamless sleep, his mind began to wander. He blamed his delirious nature for letting his neurons take him from place to place, situation to situation, until they finally projected an image of you into his head. It was a simple display of you and a recent one, too. Just Y/N L/N, sat at the little wooden table with her head perched on one of her hands with a stupid mechanical pencil in her hand. Did her hair always kind of frame her face like that? He wondered, scrunching his closed eyes. It didn’t look as horrible today, he supposed. Bakugou let his eyes flutter open, only to see that his digital clock read a clear 12:04 a.m. in electric red. He sighed and let his gaze fall on the ceiling right above him. Why was he thinking of you this late in the evening? And, to his surprise, he realized that he felt much more at home in your dorm room than he did right now, in his own space.

“What the hell…” He muttered, turning on his bedside lamp. His room was shed in a soft light, illuminating only the nearest furniture and himself. If he wasn’t able to go asleep, he sure as hell wouldn’t let this time go to waste. Picking up the book on his shelf that he was most recently into, he flipped through the pages to find his place and started reading again. He would never admit it, but Pride and Prejudice was turning out to be a much better read than expected. Bakugou found the main heroine to be much more likeable than any others he had read about. Her charisma and wit satisfied him where other characters were lacking, and the way she refused to be phased by an arrogant and sometimes brash guy who pushed her buttons constantly… He let the book fall to the ground without so much of a care as realizations flooded his brain. You put up with him. Whenever he was acting rude or was teasing you without relent, you would just simply roll your eyes and fire back. He put up with you, too. All your unreasonable habits, like staying up way too late, he was still by your side. Why?

“I…” Katsuki forced himself to look into the mirror. He saw his reflection to be way out of the norm. His eyes were wide, his posture was perfect, and his cheeks were red. “I like her.” He let the words flow freely from his mouth. With one more glance to the clock by his bedside, he grabbed a hoodie and shoved his head through it while opening his door and heading straight to yours. He knew from all of the prior knowledge on you stored in his brain and the light that shown beneath your door that you were, in fact, still awake. With three soft knocks, your door swung open to reveal you. Clad in soft looking pajama shorts and a flimsy top, your hair was a mess and your eyes were drooping. Bakugou never thought you could look so beautiful.

“Bakugou, it’s way past your bedtime.” You quip, your voice mimicking a doting parent. Bakugou shoved his way past you into your room and began to lightly pace. Your once joking smile fell into a confused frown, your eyes starting to swim with concern. “Seriously, Katsuki, what’s up? You’ve never stayed up this late except for that one time I insisted you did because a once in a lifetime meteor shower was on full display. I mean, you complained about it of course, but I knew you actually liked it because your eyes-”

“Just, shut it!” The blonde finally says. You pull back slightly, surprised at his words. “You write your twos and sevens weird, some of your habits tend to be unproductive, and sometimes I just can not stand you, but I like you.” The two of you are silent for a moment before you take a step towards him.

“You have feelings for me?” You ask, your voice soft like velvet and your eyes twinkling. Despite all of his reservations, his hard exterior and the sneer he always wore melted.

“Yeah, sure, whatever.” You shook your head and took another step forward.

“Don’t answer it like you're confirming that I correctly solved a math problem. Answer it like you love me.” Bakugou’s cheeks flamed at your sudden confidence, but he took a step forward so that your bodies were almost touching.

“I love you Y/N.” And with that, a wide grin spread across your face. Your arms wrapped themselves around the blonde’s neck and you leaned into him, your lips meeting his in a searing kiss. It was slow in pace but fierce in passion as he grew more comfortable, wrapping his arms around your waist and pressing you closer so that you were flush against his chest. Breathless and red in the face, Bakugou finally pulls back to see your ecstatic face. “Oi, what’s with the face?” He says, flustered.

“Nothing,” you say, going into your bathroom with a little towelette. He raises his eyebrows. “I told you before, a cold compress works wonders for the inevitable eye bags that you will have in the morning, and this is the perfect size.” He huffs in amusement and plucks the towelette from your hands. “Plus, you’ll have to return it to me. It gives you another excuse to hang out with me.” Bakugou finally earns a little confidence and his trademarked smirk spreads across his face.

“I don’t need an excuse to hang out with you. You’ll need my help again on the homework.”

“Always the charmer,” you quip, walking with him so that he was standing in the hallway and you in the doorway. “See ya tomorrow,” you smile, pecking him on the lips.

“See ya, Y/N.” His blush was still prevalent, but his eyebrows narrowed and a scowl replaced the smirk. “And throw out those mechanical pencils, they’re absolute shit.”

“Anything for you, Lover!” You joke, closing the door. Lover, he thinks. He can get used to a nickname like that.

[drabbles-of-writing]

Necessary Needles

This is part of my Four Years AU

AO3

Masterpost

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 

The Boiling Isles, like any other place, had its own diseases. Some were unavoidable, like the bright maggots that lived at the Toes who gave you bright disease. Having your organs glow and shrivel up was not fun.

However, like any other place, they had ways to combat most diseases. Schools like Hexside required it. You can’t expect to deal with abominations, beasts, healing, multiple species of plants, and the occasional wayward potion and expect to come out completely clean.

So the worry of Luz having no papers or medical exams to speak of was bound to come up.

 ,

“We need to take her to a healer, Edalyn.” Lilith hissed, crossing her arms. “She’s human, she’s incredibly exposed to everything here.”

“Coming down with a little flu isn’t that big a deal,” Eda muttered, turning her head away and crossing her arms. “She’ll be fine in a few days.”

“She might, but what if it was worse?” Lilith persisted. “Hexside is looking for papers saying that she’s been vaccinated. They could kick her out!”

“Bump is a flexible guy,” Eda snapped. “Look,” She sighed, shoulders slumping. “It’s not that I disagree. Luz could get sick pretty easily. But like you said, she’s human. We don’t know how those vaccines are going to react to her.”

Lilith thought for a moment, pacing the living room. Luz had been sent to bed hours earlier after it’d been revealed she’d woken up with the Centipoodle Flu. Not typically deadly, unless you were very unlucky. But worrying all the same.

“Human biology isn’t all that different from witches, is it?” Lilith asked. “The shots are designed to fit a very broad section of witches, even half-demons can take those.”

“Well, she doesn’t have a bile sac, that’s a big difference.” Eda pointed out. “And…” She frowned.

“Actually, I think that’s the only issue.” She blinked. “I don’t think lack of fangs, rounded ears, and getting excited about hisses and growls do much.” She said.

“Her vocal cords must be different if she can’t hiss,” Lilith nodded. “But I doubt that will be a problem.”

“Okay, er, blood vessels or something?” Eda tried. “Those could be different. If she doesn’t have a bile sac, who knows what else she does or doesn’t have.”

“I really think it’ll be fine,” Lilith insisted. “I doubt that vaccines as modified as these will cause serious harm to Luz.”

“This isn’t a spell that’ll go away after a day, Lilith,” Eda growled, pacing around the living room table. 

Lilith flinched at the obvious reference and cleared her throat.

“As hard as it seems to believe, I do want Luz to be safe.” She said, carefully keeping her voice low. “I understand she means a lot to you. But it will only get worse if she’s left to the elements on her own.”

Eda glanced back, scowling with her ears laying back.

“I’ll think about it.” She finally said. “We’ll see how she is when she gets better.”

“Thank you, Edalyn.” Lilith sighed, the tension releasing from her shoulders.

“But if she gets them, I’m making you take her.” Eda added, pointing an accusing finger at her sister. “Which gives me more leverage to bully you if she hates you. Those things are painful.” She winced at the memory.

“Uh huh, of course.” Lilith nodded, mildly amused. “And because I can at least pretend I’m not a wanted criminal?”

“That too.” Eda agreed. “Also, if you kidnap Luz, it’s on sight.” She warned, eyes narrowing.

“Why in the world would I want to…?” Lilith began to question before Eda gave her a deadpan stare and she slowly shut her mouth again.

“Right, of course. How could I ever forget?” She sighed.

“Don’t worry, I’ll keep reminding you.” Eda said cheerfully.

“Oh, I’m well aware.”

  ,

Luz had been better within a few days. Still a bit sniffly, but otherwise no worse for wear. Eda had finally relented to letting her get vaccines, and true to her word, Lilith was the only one who took her.

Of course, disguises were hardly needed. It had only taken a year for everyone to recognize the residents of the Owl House on instinct alone. Though Lilith did make illusions to make sure the Emperor’s Coven wouldn’t come around.

And the sheer intimidation of her existence was enough to convince the healers to usher Luz away to get her shots that, in the humans opinion, looked a lot like leeches and hurt way more.

Aside from a somewhat numb arm full of leech bite-marks, Luz returned to the Owl House with no problems, despite Eda’s best efforts to prove otherwise.

Lilith, incredibly smug, said that really, the worst that would happen was that Luz would get sick for a bit and need checkup, but nothing more.

With that, Luz had gone to bed to read her books with King before passing out like she always did.

Eda could never push away a small lingering quiver of worry.

 ,

Eda was awoken at six in the morning to the sound of something, very loudly, crashing down the stairs.

And since she was used to interruptions like these, and heard plenty of muffled giggling and thumping after the fact, she wasn’t overly worried as she pulled herself out of her nest.

“Luz, did you sneak in a baby griffin again?” Eda called, walking down the hallway towards the stairs.

“Eda, Eda,” Luz’s giggling drifted from the bottom of the steps. “Eda I can feel colors.”

Eda paused for a brief moment, slowly processing what she heard her say.

Then she broke into a near-sprint as she stopped at the top of the stairs, spotting Luz in a tangle of limbs at the bottom, giggling like a madman.

Eda hurried down and pulled the kid up, checking for any broken bones or sprains, which thankfully there were none of.

“Eda, colors feel weird.” Luz whispered, looking up at the witch. “Really really weird. But also kinda cool?”

Eda sucked in a breath at the sight, letting go of Luz.

Her pupils were heavily contracted. Like she was staring right into a flashlight. While she spoke, her left pupil had suddenly expanded and began growing and shrinking at the speed of a broken lightbulb.

“Oh boy,” Eda breathed, worry creasing her brow. “Do you feel alright, kid?”

“Thirsty,” Luz said, her head slowly falling to the side before she jerked it back up again. “And excited! I don’t know why, but I am! Everything’s really bright but also not?” She said, looking around.

“Christ, I haven’t seen a trip like this since King ate moondust.” Eda murmured, running a hand through her hair and shaking her head.

“Hmm?” Luz hummed, clearly only half paying attention.

“Just, go sit on the couch, please.” Eda sighed. “I need to get Lilith.”

“Okay!” She said, overly cheerful.

And then she just stood there, blinking fish-eyed at Eda, still smiling.

“Uh, kid? Couch,” Eda said, pointing off towards the door to the living room.

“Oh, yeah,” Luz said, shaking her head and stumbling, slamming into the doorframe on the way out.

Eda watched Luz leave for a few seconds before growling and storming her way back up the stairs.

King had awoken from where he was in Luz’s room and sleepily poked his head out, half-awake.

“Keep an eye on Luz,” Eda instructed him as she walked by. “Don’t let her touch anything.”

“Oh, someones in trouble,” King sang before scampering out of Luz’s room.

“You bet she is,” Eda hissed, stopping in front of the makeshift storage room they had made into Lilith’s room.

She didn’t even bother to knock, she just threw the door open.

Lilith was already waking up from the noise, her hair a mess and rubbing at her eyes. She looked up, saw Eda furiously standing in the doorway, and let out a sigh.

She calmly picked up her glasses from an old table she’d made (Eda had insisted she get her glasses back since she had no reason not to use them anymore), put them on, and slowly stood up, mentally preparing herself.

“What happened this time?” She asked calmly.

“Luz! Luz is what happened!” Eda shouted. “If I didn’t know any better, I would’ve thought she’d snuck into the Night Market!”

“And by that you mean…?” Lilith asked slowly.

“She looks drugged, Lilith.” Eda hissed. “How long is this going to last, exactly?”

“I don’t know, I’m not a healer.” Lilith shrugged, clearly trying to hide an amused smile. “Let me see her, I’m sure it’s not that bad.”

“Don’t eat the glyphs, Luz!” King’s yelling from downstairs reached their ears. “Don’t--Luz that’s fire!”

Eda’s sneer grew and Lilith pointedly refused to meet her gaze.

Without a word, the sisters hurried down the stairs and into the living room, both mentally preparing to have to put something out.

Luz was in the process of eating a ripped up glyph, both pupils blown wide, blitzed out of her mind. King was stuck under one of her arms, holding the other end of the glyph he had probably been forced to rip to stop her from activating it.

“Eda, what happened to her?” King demanded, squirming in the human's grasp. “She thinks the glyphs are pancakes!”

Lilith snorted, stifling a laugh at the sight. Eda gave her sister a glare that would melt Emperor Belos himself, and her smile quickly fell.

“You’re right, you’re right, not funny.” She said matter-of-factly. “Did she wake up like this?” “I assume so,” Eda said, walking over to the girl and picking her up from under her arms. “She fell down the stairs and said she could feel colors.”

“These have a lot of colors,” Luz giggled, pulling the ripped glyph out of her mouth and waving her around.

“...alright,” Lilith said slowly, placing her hands together. “Clearly, the vaccines had more of a side effect on her than we thought.”

“Ya think?” Eda hissed, holding Luz upright as she looked around at everything, her eyes nearly entirely taken up by her pupil.

“On the plus side, I doubt this will be permanent.” Lilith continued. “Most of the vaccines given to her were ones that wear off over time.”

“How long, exactly?” Eda asked.

Lilith pressed her mouth together in a thin line, weighing her options.

“...about ten years?” She said, raising her hand and tilting it. “Sometimes five?”

“Lilith!”

“It’s probably just her body reacting to the small bits of illness and magic,” Lilith said quickly, mildly nervous. “It’ll get out of her system eventually, I’m sure.”

“And how long,” Eda grit her teeth together, grabbing Luz’s hood as she tried to wander off. “Do you think this’ll last?”

Lilith frowned, thinking for a moment.

“A week at worst,” She decided. “If nothing changes by then...we may have to ask in a favor or two.”

“You are so lucky Amity likes you,” Eda growled, pointing a finger at her sister. “Or I’d do worse than send you to Hooty.”

“I didn’t know this would happen!” Lilith defended. “I genuinely thought it would be okay! You think I want her like this?” She said, gesturing to the girl with her hand.

Eda knew very well she didn’t. Lilith could be uncaring and annoyed with practically everyone around her, but she knew better. And, well, even she had admitted that using a child as a shield that one time was a bad move.

And, besides, her apprentice, as far as she knew at least, was friends with Luz. So that automatically put her higher up on Lilith’s list than others.

Didn’t change that Luz was even crazier than normal now, though.

“You insisted on this, you fix it.” Eda finally decided, pulling Luz closer. “This is borderline disturbing, even for her.” She said, looking down at Luz’s glazed, but still happy, expression.

“I’ll do what I can,” Lilith promised. “In the meantime, let’s hope being a little delirious is the worst of our troubles.”

“Don’t jinx us, Lilith.”

 ,

“So, we’re basically on Luz-watch now?” Willow asked, eyeing Luz as she downed her fifth water bottle in an hour like a shot.

“We’re all on Luz watch,” Eda corrected. “Lilith is off trying to find something useful while we gotta sit here and hope she doesn’t do anything stupid.”

“Like being thirsty is a crime,” Luz huffed, her right eye half-lidded with a contracted pupil. 

“Fascinating,” Gus murmured, poking Luz’s cheek. “I never would’ve imagined something as simple as a few vaccines would cause such a severe reaction in humans.”

“Who knows? Maybe it’s just a Luz thing,” Willow suggested, holding her friend up as she started to heavily lean to the side.

The trio were all sitting on the floor in front of the couch in a semicircle. If you didn’t know any better, you’d think they were expecting Luz to start coughing up blood.

“There are lights everywhere,” Luz grinned, gazing with drooping eyes around the room. “They kinda hurt.” She said, her smile never falling as she squinted her eyes.

“You better not get worse,” Eda warned, crossing over to the kitchen. “You kids hungry? It’s still morning.”

“I had a snack on the way here,” Willow assured the witch.

“Has Luz eaten?” Gus wondered.

Luz stared at him blankly for a moment before Willow nudged her.

“Mm, not hungry,” Luz mumbled, her left pupil dilating for a moment before contracting to the same size as her other one.

“Are you sure you feel alright?” Willow inquired, frowning.

“Yes and no?” Luz squinted. “I’m like...feeling so great it’s uncomfortable. Does that make sense?” She asked, turning her head to her friend before almost falling over again.

“At least she can talk a bit better now,” Eda muttered, poking her head back into the room.

“Luz is going to get better, right?” Gus worried, peering over Luz.

Eda opened her mouth, shut it, thought about her words for a few moments, and inhaled deeply.

“Yeah, eventually.” She said, praying to the Titan she wasn’t lying. “We just don’t know when.”

“So does this mean I can study her?” Gus asked excitedly, eyes shining.

“I don’t know if that’s a good idea,” Willow said carefully, relenting to just always keeping an arm around Luz as she stared off into blissful space. “I doubt she’ll stay still.”

“I want to see what kind of symptoms she has,” Gus defended. “This is the only time I’ll ever get to know what some of our medicine does to humans!”

Eda flinched at the unintended reminder of Luz’s current situation. She was almost glad Luz could barely process any of the words being spoken around her, she was sure the human would’ve noticed as well.

“Just be careful with her, you hear?” Eda relented. “I’m not about to take her to a healer and risk this information making it to the Emperor’s Coven. A little studying will probably help us.”

“Yes!” Gus pumped a fist in the air and conjured himself a pencil and paper. “If anything, think of this as a recording of what’s going on. I doubt Luz will be able to remember all of this in clear detail.” He said, tapping his pencil on her head.

Luz jolted, looking towards Gus dumbly at the sudden touch.

“Hm, pencil isn’t very colorful.” She hummed.

“Where’s rich girl, anyway?” Eda asked, leaning in the kitchen door frame. “I thought she would’ve rushed over here.”

“She doesn’t even know this is happening.” Willow said. “You just called me and Gus, told us to hurry over, and then hung up.” She deadpanned. “We didn’t know the situation until we got here.”

“Eh, fair.” Eda nodded. “Poor girl would probably have a heart attack at the sight of her,” She gestured a hand to her apprentice.

“Amity would definitely have some choice words,” Gus agreed.

“Amity?” Luz suddenly perked her head up, looking around wildly like a puppy who’d been told they were getting a treat. “Amity’s here?”

Willow and Eda shared a knowing glance before turning back to the human.

“No, Luz, Amity isn’t here.” Willow said calmly.

Luz visibly drooped, disappointed. At least they knew she could still feel other emotions.

“Do you want me to call her?” Willow asked the girl.

Luz rose up again, excited. Gus was reminded of an emotional yo-yo.

“Great, more children,” Eda muttered. “You two are handling her inevitable panic.”

“Fair,” Willow nodded, pulling out her scroll. “Gus, take Luz for a minute.”

“Huh?” Gus looked up from taking notes just in time to get crushed by Luz falling over him.

Willow dialed Amity, ignoring the strangled cries of distress from Gus. She picked up on the third ring.

“Hey, Wills,” Amity crackled through the scroll.

“Amity!” Luz trilled happily, sitting up from where she was crushing Gus.

“Is that Luz?” Amity inquired.

“Yeah, we’re at the Owl House.” Willow explained, holding Luz back from tumbling over her by holding a hand against her face.

“I can breathe!” Gus gasped. “Hi, Amity!” Luz giggled.

“Hey, Luz,” Amity mumbled.

You could see Willow’s will to live leave her body. Eda gave up and went back into the kitchen to grab herself a snack.

“Luz is in a bit of a situation at the moment,” Willow said calmly. “Turns out our vaccines don’t clash well with her.”

“What? Is she okay?” Amity worried, and the sound of shuffling was heard from the other line.

“Yeah, just really blitzed out.” Willow assured. “She says she can feel colors and is excited to an uncomfortable extent.”

“Willow has a lot of calm colors,” Luz grinned, giving up trying to squish Willow and instead dropping her head onto her leg. “I like ‘em.”

“That...sounds concerning.” Amity said slowly. “I’m coming over.”

“We’ll be waiting,” Willow said, before hanging up.

“Yay! Amity’s coming!” Luz cheered, trying to raise herself to a sitting position and wincing. “Ow, too loud.”

“Too loud?” Gus repeated, trying to write something down. “What is?”

“Spoke too loud,” Luz whined, shutting her eyes.

“You...usually speak that loud when you're excited.” Willow raised a brow. “Are your ears alright?”

“Just round,” Luz snickered at her ‘joke,’ cracking open an eye. “Everything about me is round! Round ears, round fang teeth, round face,” She said, proceeding to squish one of her cheeks in her hand.

“Your round ‘cause your squishy,” Willow agreed, helping Luz sit up properly.

“Very squishy,” Luz agreed. “I am the squishiest.” She said seriously. “Is your vision normal?” Gus asked, cautiously leaning closer to his friend. “No more spots?”

“Mm, less so.” Luz said, staring off at nothing. “And I think the couch is alive,” She said calmly.

The friends looked at the couch, and upon seeing it wasn’t moving, turned back to Luz.

“There’s...nothing happening.” Willow said slowly. “I mean, it could be alive, but nothings happening right now.”

“Are you sure?” Luz frowned, squinting intensely at the couch. “I swear the cover is like...rippling.”

Gus looked to the couch, back to Luz, back to the couch, and then back to Luz again.

“So she’s getting hallucinations,” He said, writing it down. “Good to know.”

“She what?” Eda called back, confused.

King poked his head through the kitchen door, his tail flicking.

“Eda wants to know what you said,”

“We heard her.” Willow sighed.

“Hallucinations. Luz thinks the couch is moving,” Gus said, not even sparing a glance up from her notebook.

“Oh, did it wake up?” King asked sincerely. “Eda! I think the couch woke up again!”

“The couch is alive?” Willow squeaked, pulling Luz closer and scooching away from it.

“Ha! Knew it,” Luz weakly waved a fist. “I knew it had to be alive.”

Eda reappeared soon after, double-checking that the couch hadn’t woken up. Gus was about to tell her the same information he told King, but the sounds of Hooty shrieking at someone caught everyone's attention.

They couldn’t make out his words, but it was hard to miss his high-pitched voice. Eda walked to the front door and cracked it opening, fully expecting to see Lilith or some random kid trying to find the Owl House again.

Instead, she saw Amity, hissing with fangs bared and looked ready to punch Hooty in the face. Which was understandable, considering he was continuously bugging her.

“Someone was anxious to get here,” Eda chuckled, swinging open the door and crushing a small piece of Hooty’s body between the door and the wall.

Hooty squawked and started harping on Eda, complaining and turning his attention away from Amity.

“Oh, hey, Eda.” Amity said, calming down and smoothing her hair back.

Eda could visibly tell Amity was trying to not breathe in too deeply, sure-fire evidence at how fast she had rushed to the Owl House.

“In here,” Eda said, letting Amity inside before shutting the door on Hooty’s complaints.

“Hey, Amity.” Willow greeted numbly.

Luz, who had previously been laying against Willow’s shoulder, popped up at a speed that made Gus concerned that her neck might’ve cracked. 

“Hi, Ami!” Luz said cheerfully, her pupils immediately dilating so wide that you could barely see the whites of her eyes.

Amity paused, looking like she was about to be flattered before seeing the state Luz was in. She knit her brow together, clearly even more anxious as she hurried in, getting on her knees beside her friends.

“How long has she been like this?” She asked, hesitantly reaching out a hand before pulling back.

“Since this morning,” Gus said. “Eda said she’ll be fine.”

“That’s a relief,” Amity exhaled.

Eda mumbled something and slipped out of the living room. King was about to follow her before she spoke something quietly to him and left. 

Instead, the demon pouted and sat at the door leading to the staircase hallway, his arms crossed.

“Oooh, you’re really colorful,” Luz said, grabbing Amity’s outstretched hand and pulling it closer.

“I--huh?” Amity stuttered, blushing.

“It’s so pretty,” Luz whispered, sounding not all there as she pressed Amity’s hand to her cheek.

“Don’t pass out on us,” Willow teased the furiously red witch. “I’d hate for you to die at fifteen.”

“Don’t test me,” Amity growled.

“Can you feel these ‘colors’ with other people?” Gus questioned the human.

It took a few seconds for Luz to react but she eventually looked back up at Gus.

“Mmm, yeah,” She mumbled. “Eda’s are weird,” She enunciated, swaying slightly.

Willow slowly held a hand on her shoulder to stop her from toppling. If Luz noticed, she didn’t comment.

“So, she’s really high right now, is what I’m getting at.” Amity said, looking over Luz, who still refused to release her hand.

“Pretty much,” Willow nodded. “At least the vaccines gave her a happy-high. I don’t know if we could handle a panicky or angry Luz.”

“Where’s,” Luz slurred for a moment, her right pupil contracting. “Where’s my, my,” She struggled for a moment, clearly forgetting what she was trying to say.

“You alright there?” Gus asked, trying not to laugh.

“¿Cuál es la palabra para eso?” Luz muttered under her breath. “Capucha...gato...gato capucha…” 

“Is she speaking backwards or something?” Amity asked, alarmed.

“Oh, oh! Luz explained this to me once,” Gus said, perking up. “She said it was a human language...Spanish I think.”

“Hoodie!” Luz finally burst out before wincing and ducking her head, finally releasing Amity’s hand.

“Your hoodie?” Willow blinked. “Luz, you grew out of that four months ago.”

“Did someone say Hooty?”

Everyone groaned as the bird tube himself popped in through the window, happily chattering in his high voice.

“Did you guys miss me?” He yapped on.

Luz suddenly yelped and clapped her hands over her ears, doubling over into a ball. Her friends whirled back to her, startled.

“Is she still all weird?” Hooty continued, circling around them until his head was right by Luz. “Hi, Luz! Are you still being weird?”

Luz whimpered and curled into an even tighter ball, turning her head away from Hooty and squeezing her eyes shut.

“Quit it!” Amity snapped, shoving the birds face away. “You're scaring her!”

“Scaring?” Hooty repeated, though he did move back. “But I didn’t even do anything mentally scarring this time!”

King, who had fallen asleep at the door, was easily awoken by Hooty’s screeching. He noticed Amity pulling a balled-up Luz further away from Hooty, murderous intent in her gaze, and was quick to rush over.

“I’m awake! I’m awake! What happened?” He asked, skidding to a stop.

“I don’t know, but Hooty’s freaking out Luz.” Willow said, reaching out a hesitant hand to the girl.

“Hey! You! Shoo!” King snapped to the bird, waving his paws at him. “Don’t make me get Eda!”

“Alright, alright! Sheesh!” Hooty grumbled, slowly pulling himself back out the window. “I didn’t mean to do anything, gosh.” He muttered, frowning as he disappeared back to the front of the house.

“Luz?” Amity worried, looking down at the shaking girl halfway in her lap. “Luz? He’s gone now, it’s okay.”

Luz cracked open an eye, revealing it had contracted to a disturbingly small size. She slowly removed her hands from her ears and sat up, almost knocking her head into Amity’s chin.

“Are you alright?” Willow worried, placing a hand on her friend's shoulder.

“Loud,” Luz whined, rubbing at her ear.

“Should I call Eda?” King worried, coming up in front of Luz. “I should call Eda. Hey, Eda!” He shouted, turning his head away. “Eda!”

Luz hissed and jerked back, shutting her eyes and covering her ears again.

King jumped back and covered his mouth with his paws. Willow was quick to wrap her arm around Luz’s shoulders.

“I’m so sorry!” King exclaimed, immediately covering his mouth again when Luz’s flinch revealed he’d been too loud again. “Sorry, sorry,” He whispered, taking another step back.

“Luz?” Willow worried.

“Loud,” The human repeated, burying her head in Willow’s shoulder. “It’s loud.”

The other three all looked to each other with concern.

“But...Hooty and King always talk like that.” Amity said slowly. “It...it’s never bothered her before.”

“She must have gotten more sensitive to sound,” Gus said, his voice lowered. “Us talking normally must already be quite loud. And considering King and Hooty are naturally louder when they talk, she must think they’re screaming if they go so much as a few notes up.”

King sat on the floor, his paws still wrapped around his muzzle, his face full of horror and shame.

Rapid footsteps were heard coming down the stairs, and Eda was in the living room in a flash, holding her staff in one hand.

“What happened? Is everyone okay?” She asked, hurrying over.

“Luz is sensitive to sound,” Willow explained softly. “Hooty and King hurt her ears without meaning to, that’s all.”

“Great, another symptom.” Eda muttered, her staff vanishing in a flash of light. “How sensitive?”

“Anything higher than normal talking is painful,” Gus said, quickly writing it all down. “To her, it must sound like we’re already talking loud, but she’s putting up with it.”

Eda sighed and ran a hand down her face. Luz had recovered from King’s shout and peeled herself off of Willow, hands hovering by her ears in fear there would be another loud noise.

“I’m gonna go get Lilith,” She decided, watching Luz pitifully. “I need to know what else is going to happen to her.”

“What?” Luz blinked, looking around. “Why was everyone shouting?”

“Sorry,” King repeated again, shaking his head.

“You didn’t know,” Eda leaned down and ruffled the fur behind his head. “Luz, maybe you should go rest.”

“I’m not tired,” Luz said, becoming cheerful again. “Not at all! Hey, do you think I could climb the Knee and back?” She asked, turning to Willow. “I think I could do that.”

“Don’t,” Willow said, standing up and helping her friend off the floor. “We’ll stay with her.” She assured the older witch.

“I’d say don’t do anything stupid, but we all know that’s going to happen no matter what.” Eda said, crossing her arms. “Just don’t do something overly stupid.”

“Understood,” Amity nodded, scooping up King as she and Gus stood.

Luz paused before whirling her head around, nearly falling over at the force if Willow didn’t catch her in time.

“Ami?” Luz blinked blearily. “When did you get here?”

“This is going to be a long day,” Eda sighed, shoulders slumping with the weight of a sky.

“We’ll try to get through unscathed,” Gus said, glancing at Luz as she started staring at and inspecting her own hands, confused. 

“Key word; try.”

,

“I think I swallowed another light spell,” Luz groaned, face-down on her sleeping bag.

“You didn’t. We would’ve seen it.” Willow said, glancing back at the girl.

“I must’ve,” Luz muffled through the bag. “I feel like it.”

“Huh, so she’s hallucinating sensations, too.” Gus said, sitting cross-legged by the window and writing in another page of his notebook.

“Or she could just feel awful,” Amity pointed out, leaning against the wall behind Luz. “I certainly would, considering the state she’s already in.”

“Please don’t throw up like last time,” King begged, his voice barely above a whisper as he placed his paws on Luz’s arm. “That was disgusting.”

“Water,” Luz mumbled, raising a hand and grabbing at air. “Need water.”

Amity picked up the water bottle on the floor beside her and crawled over, placing it in Luz’s open hand.

“Humans can’t die from drinking too much water, right?” Gus asked, looking up from his notebook.

Luz looked up and tilted the water bottle, never raising her head off of the floor. She opened her mouth and let the water trickle out and into her mouth.

Her friends all watched her, mesmerized at the sight. Luz’s grip on the water bottle loosened after a few minutes and it fell and hit her in the face, causing her to hiss and water to spill.

Amity muttered before pulling Luz into a sitting position by her shoulders. The girl was still staring off blankly, like this outcome was completely out of the blue.

King came back with old clothes Eda never used and Willow mopped up the water with them, barely batting an eye.

“Aw,” Luz finally reacted, mournfully watching her forgotten water bottle which was now only a quarter-full. “My juice…”

“Luz, you're getting soaked.” Amity sighed, grabbing one of the unused shirts and dabbing at Luz’s shirt and face.

“Like it, it’s cold,” Luz said, though she did nothing to stop Amity.

“Cold? Are you feeling too warm?” Willow asked, glancing up.

“Uh,” Luz stared off for a moment. “Yope.”

“Yope?” Gus echoed.

“Nes? Yo? Noes? Sio? Ni?” Luz tried out a bunch of different words, often slurring them together.

“Luz, what are you saying?” Amity sighed, trying to get the worst of the water off her shirt now.

“What’s yes and no combined?” Luz questioned Gus. “You’re smart, you know.”

“Maybe?” Gus tried, raising a brow.

“Maybe?” Luz frowned. “How can you be ‘maybe’ smart?”

“You’re maybe too warm?” Willow reiterated.

“I’m like…” Luz spaced out for a moment before snapping back to reality, both her pupils at different levels of dilated. “Hot and cold?”

“That’s mildly troubling,” Gus spoke, flipping to a new page in his notebook.

“I feel like I have a weird fever,” Luz sniffled, blinking her eyes rapidly. “You know? You know like...like when you're so sick you're too extreme in both temperatures.”

“I think I had that once!” King raised his paw excitedly before quickly lowering back down when he saw Luz flinch at his voice. “I had frostbite on my fur after I ate a fire-twig. I couldn’t stop moving for like, three hours.”

“Mood,” Luz nodded solemnly.

“I’m...pretty sure that’s not an emotion…” King said slowly.

“So, do you want like, extra blankets?” Amity suggested.

“I want to die,” Luz whined, almost flopping over onto her face again before Amity grabbed the back of her shirt and held her up. “And everything smells like those weird street corners.”

“Smells fine to me,” WIllow said, laying the wet clothes on the ledge in front of the window. “Do you want to change into a non-wet shirt?”

“Oh,” Luz nodded after a few beats. “Yeah,” She said, grabbing the hem of her shirt and pulling up.

Amity, who had previously been tossing the damp cloth away, turned back around just in the nick of time.

“Not right now!” She squeaked, frantically grabbing Luz’s hands and forcing her to shove her shirt back down.

The other three whirled back to the girls, startled by the sudden noise.

“Ow,” Luz complained, removing her hands and rubbing at her ears. “Loud,”

“Sorry, sorry,” Amity whispered, jerking her hands back.

Her ears were pressed down, and she was a bright red from the tip of each ear.

Willow rolled her eyes but made no comment as she stood up and offered a hand to Luz. The human stared at it for a moment before Willow took the humans hand herself and helped her up.

“I’ll ask Eda if she has anything that’s not covered in dust,” Willow asked her, gazing around at Luz’s room. “Somehow, I doubt she keeps her clothes on the racks in here.”

“I,” Amity shook her head to clear it. “I think she has a chest in the room down the hallway.”

“I’ll check it out,” Willow nodded, keeping a hand on Luz’s shoulder and guiding her out of her room.

Thus leaving Amity, Gus and King to their own devices.

They all looked at each other.

“You wanna cut holes in Eda’s raggety clothes and stitch them together?” King asked casually. “Yeah I do!” Gus grinned, throwing his notebook and pencil aside.

“I’m picking the fabric,” Amity said matter-of-factly. “You guys will just make an unholy abomination.”

“Says the girl in the abomination track,”

,

“Maybe...if we split my head open...the pain will stop.”

“I’m not cracking your skull like an egg for a headache, Luz.”

“Do you think zombies would like that?” Luz asked, raising a hand in the air. “Would it be like scrambled eggs?” “That’s disgusting, Luz.”

“Not to the zombies,”

Luz was laying across the couch, her head hanging off the armrest, holding a warm washcloth against her forehead. Willow was sitting on the other end, with Gus perched on the armrest beside her. Amity was sitting on the floor in front of Luz with King in her lap, making sure she didn’t slide off the couch.

“Some guy did it once,” Luz continued, her eyes covered by the washcloth as she wildly waved her other hand around in the air. “Some god or something. Head split. Woman popped out. It was a whole thing.”

“Wait, really?” Gus gasped, eyes shining excitedly.

“Gus, she’s high.” Willow deadpanned. “I don’t think we can trust most things she’s saying right now.”

“It was a thing!” Luz insisted, trying to sit up and failing. “Learned ‘bout it...Big Z got a nerdy war daughter. Like…” She paused for a moment. “Like Amity, but a goddess.”

Amity made a few strangled choking sounds, and King glared up at her. Though he didn’t try to move out of her lap.

“I’m writing it down anyway,” Gus said, scribbling furiously.

“How’s the headache?” Willow asked.

“Killing me slowly,” Luz said, rolling her head to the side on the armrest so she was nearly falling off the couch. 

She moved the washcloth further up, revealing her pupils going off the fritz for a few moments before appearing to pulsate in size.

“I wanna run laps and then curl up on the floor,” Luz said, eyes glazing over in that way you knew she was focusing on nothing at all. “I wanna slam into something.”

“Wh...why?” Gus said slowly.

“No idea,” Luz shrugged, her voice sounding far too cheerful. “Maybe if I run into a wall I’ll start feeling normal. I should try that.” She said, beginning to sit up.

“Absolutely not,” Amity snapped, her voice a bit strained as she sat up and sharply pushed Luz back onto the couch. “You’re not getting any more brain damage today.”

“Eda told me she already fell down the last few steps on the stairs,” King piped up.

“Few?” Luz repeated, blinking. “I fell down all ‘em.”

There was a few seconds of silence where everyone soaked in her words.

“You fell down the entire flight of stairs?” Willow repeated. “Yeah?” Luz looked between her friends, perplexed. “What?”

“Didn’t that hurt?” Amity winced at the thought. “You’re lucky you didn’t break anything!”

“I didn’t feel a thing,” Luz shrugged, completely uncaring. “Felt like falling in a ball pit.”

“You fell down wooden stairs, and you felt nothing?” Willow gaped.

“Nope,” Luz smiled.

Her friends stared at her for a few moments, all in different states of concern.

“Oh, her pain tolerance shot up, too.” Gus spoke, breaking the silence. “Her ears and head must either be incredibly painful or they don’t work the same way.”

“I’ve never felt more terrified for Luz in my life,” Willow near-wheezed. “She could have a cracked bone right now and we wouldn’t even know.”

“I’ll be fine,” Luz waved a hand. “Mamás a doctor, I know things...many things.”

“I know Eda is a lot of things, but I doubt she’s a doctor, whatever that is.” Gus said, confused as he looked up.

Everyone froze. Gus realized who Luz was talking about a moment too late.

Luz squinted and stared down at the couch, washcloth slowly sliding off her head. Her left pupil expanded before slowly shrinking. She looked like she was trying to reboot her brain, and swayed slightly.

“Hey, Luz!” Amity quickly sat up, giving her friend a nervous smile. “You wanna dress up King in that weird patchwork shirt we made?”

“Uh, yes,” Luz went right back to smiling.

A silent sigh of relief swept through the room.

“How could you?” King cried, lowering his voice a second into his outburst. “Haven’t you tortured me enough?”

“It was a cupcake, King.” Amity said, standing and scooping up King in her arms.

“And you crushed it mercilessly!” 

Willow glanced back at Gus, who’s ears were flicked back. He was staring at his notebook, looking like a toddler who’d been caught trying to steal food from the counter.

“Sorry,” He whispered when he caught Willow���s look. “I wasn’t paying attention…”

“It’s alright,” Willow sighed, watching as King squirmed in Amity’s hold and Luz tried to sit up. “We’re all trying to get used to it.”

“King, c’mere,” Luz cooed, putting her hands on the armrest and trying to pull herself up.

Before promptly losing her grip and falling face-first off the couch.

“Are you okay?” Amity worried.

“Feeling nothin’,” Luz said, giving a thumbs up as she raised her head. “Never better.”

Amity cringed back at the sight, and King made an ‘ew’ noise, curling closer in the witches arms.

“She gave herself a black eye, didn’t she?” Willow sighed.

“Yeah…”

“Titan save us, she’s not gonna last a week.”

,

“Oh don’t cha dare look back, just keep ya eyes on me, I said ya holding back, she said shut up and dance with me,”

The quintet were all sitting around the kitchen table. It was well past noon, too late for lunch but too early for dinner. But King had gotten hungry and so everyone had eaten at what Luz had called ‘dinunch’ or ‘lunner.’

Well, everyone aside from Luz. She vehemently refused to eat anything. So she’d resorted to laying upside down on her chair, her head on the floor, and singing some human song nobody at the table knew.

“This woman is my destiny, she said oooooh, shut up and dance with me!”

“I’m going to lose it,” Gus whispered, staring at the table with the gaze of centuries of pain.

“Ha! Luz it,” Luz giggled. “McLuz it. Puns,” 

“Shouldn’t Eda be back with Lilith by now?” Willow asked the demon sitting on the table by Luz’s chair.

“Eh, she may have just started studying at the library with her.” King shrugged. “Or they’re busting themselves out of prison, either is plausible.”

“We were victims of the night,” Luz continued humming. “The chemical, physical, kryptonite.”

“At least she’s not whining about headaches,” Amity shrugged.

“Helpless to the bass and the fading light, oh we were bound to get together, bound to get together,” Luz tilted her head while on the floor, eyes closed.

“For your sake, I hope you don’t remember today all that well,” Willow said, rubbing her temples. “Luz, are you keeping that ice on your eye?”

“She took my arm!” Luz trilled, though it was no louder than regular talking. “Don’t know how it happened, we hit the floor and she saaaaaaid,”

“Luz,” Willow repeated.

“Oh don’t cha dare look back, just keep ya eyes on me, I said you’re holdin’ back, she said--”

“Luz,” Amity said, peering under the table.

Luz paused, blinking open her eyes and holding them on Amity. One of her hands was splayed out by her head, loosely holding a wet towel with no ice in it.

“What happened to the ice?” Amity sighed.

“Huh?” Luz blinked, her pupils fritzing out for a moment. “Oh, I ate ‘em.”

“You ate four cubes of ice?” Willow cried, standing up suddenly. “Why? Why in the world…?”

“Wanted to see what it’d taste like.” Luz said earnestly. “Tasted bad,”

“Then why’d you eat all four?” Gus raised a brow, also peering under the table.

Luz looked at him blankly.

“Shut up and dance with me!” She went right on singing. “This woman is my destiny, she said oooooh,”

Everyone at the table couldn’t look more tired. Willow sighed and got up to get more ice for Luz’s black eye, which had swollen to the point where it could only open halfway. 

“Okay, you’re making me nervous from that position, please sit up,” Amity said, getting up from her chair and standing by Luz, who was still singing on.

“A backless dress and some beat up sneaks,” Luz sang. “My discotheque, Juliet, teenage dream! I felt in in my chest as she looked at me,”

Amity gave Gus and King a look of utter pain and confusion before crouching down by the human, snapping her fingers to get her attention.

Luz jolted to attention and rolled her head to the side, looking up at Amity.

Her pupils dilated wide before one flickered slightly smaller.

“Can you get up?” Amity asked her.

Luz opened her mouth to reply before slowly shutting it again. She did this a few more times before turning her head to the side and avoiding the witches gaze.

Amity sighed and resigned to helping her up herself. She picked up Luz’s feet and took them off of the back of the chair, setting them to the side at a very awkward angle, considering Luz refused to move.

“Lost my place,” Luz mumbled.

For a second Amity thought she was complaining about her current position being shifted, but as her friend started singing again, she knew she couldn’t care less.

“She took my arm, I don’t know how it happened,” She hummed. “We took the floor and she saaaaaaid,”

Amity leaned down and took Luz’s hands, pulling her up. She was now facing off the side of the chair, finally sitting in a normal position.

Luz looked up to her, blinking innocently. One pupil contracted and she broke into a goofy grin.

“Take me home tonight,” She sang on, keeping a hold on Amity’s hands and trying to pull herself to a standing position. “I don’t want to let you go till we see the light.”

Amity stepped back, unconsciously helping to keep Luz standing, watching her in confusion. She glanced at the others, but Gus wasn’t paying much attention, just glad Luz wasn’t singing the same lines over and over again. King barely spared them a glance, much more interested in notes Gus was looking over.

“Take me home tonight,” Luz grinned, pulling Amity’s hands back till she was nearly nose-to-nose with the girl.

It likely would’ve been a lot more romantic if Luz’s eye wasn’t swollen and black. Plus her pupils that were still fluctuating.

“Listen honey,” Luz chanted. “Just like Ronnie said,”

Amity slowly drew her head back, beginning to flush brightly. Luz giggled and gave her a lopsided smile.

“Luz...Luz what are you--”

“Be my little baaaaaaaby,” She snickered, placing her head on Amity’s shoulder and continuing to give short laughs.

“Luz?” Amity stuttered, trying to get her hands out of Luz’s grip. “Listen, you--” She swallowed. “You need to sit back down…”

“Is everything okay?” Willow asked, appearing with more cubes of ice wrapped up in a washcloth.

“Oh don’t you dare look back!” Luz suddenly shot back, snatching Amity’s arms and tugging her along. “Just keep your eyes on me!” 

She misjudged the distance between her and the table, smacking her back into and crumbling to the floor, not as steady on her feet as everyone thought.

The back of her head hit the table as she fell. She didn’t make any noise of pain, simply toppled over and landed on the floor before roughly sitting back and knocking against the table leg, looking dazed.

“Luz!” Amity cried.

Gus and King jerked up as Willow rushed over, crouching by Luz along with Amity. 

Luz still looked almost to be in a state of shock, but it was hard to tell from how her head turned and pupils contracted. Willow reached out and turned her head to inspect the damage.

“Yeah, it’s bleeding.” Willow winced. 

“How much?” Gus asked, peering over the table.

“Uh,” Willow pulled her hand back, revealing Luz’s blood coating it.

Amity sucked in a breath and her eyes went wide. She quickly turned Luz’s head to see for herself as Gus and King hurried around to them.

She couldn’t tell where the cut was under Luz’s hair that she was beginning to grow out, but it was bleeding rapidly. A large patch of her hair was dark red with blood gushing out.

“Call Eda, call Eda!” Gus exclaimed as King rushed to Luz, worrying over her.

“Call the healers!” King insisted over the witch.

Luz winced and covered her ears, whimpering at their frantic shouting. Willow quickly pulled out her scroll and began dialing Eda, clearly just as freaked out as the others.

Amity was in a state of shock. She was sitting on her knees at Luz’s side, just staring at the blood beginning to trickle down Luz’s hair and onto her neck. Her pupils were slitted into thin lines, and her breathing had become heavy.

Luz opened her eyes, but kept her hands over her ears because of the shouting. She gave her friends a hurt look before noticing the stilled fear on Amity’s face.

She frowned and nudged Amity’s leg with her foot. When the witch didn’t respond, she turned to King, who was sitting closest to her, and nudged his back with the same foot.

King turned, and everyone's shouting paused.

“Guys?” Luz said, one eye dilating as the back of her shirt grew soaked with blood. “I think something’s wrong with Amity...”

,

Lilith sat on the couch, looking over as many medical papers she could. She finally wore her glasses, and she had notes lay strewn about on the coffee table. She was exhausted, and words were beginning to blur together.

It was almost one in the morning, but she couldn’t stop yet.

After a study session and quick escape from Kikimora yesterday, Eda had been called and informed by panicked teenagers that Luz had hit her head on the table and was heavily bleeding on the floor. Lilith didn’t think Eda could get that scared in such a short amount of time, but you learn something new every day.

Thankfully, Luz had turned out fine. Her head injury wasn’t all that serious, it just turns out humans bleed more from head wounds than witches.

But considering that in just a few hours Luz had managed to get said head injury, a black eye, and traumatize her friends, Eda was quick to shoo them away.

Lilith hated the pained expression plastered to Amity’s face.

She couldn’t be mad at Eda, not really. Her little sister was scared for Luz, and who wouldn’t be? Having to deal with three more kids was far from her to-do list.

Luz had been patched up by very concerned healers, leaving Lilith to insist that, no, they had not drugged a child, she was just having a bad reaction to vaccines.

Her friends had come back the second day, but Luz was on constant surveillance watch by them and Eda alike. Not much had changed from the first day, though Luz had somehow managed to get her head stuck in a cardboard cylinder.

She was glad when they left before dinner. The constant terror flashing in Amity’s eyes worried her beyond belief.

Technically speaking, Lilith supposed, it was the third day now. But she was too busy focusing on finding anything useful to dwell on it.

She heard creaking steps and didn’t bother to glance up. It was probably Edalyn. She was awake at all hours and was probably off to grab a snack.

She heard heavy footsteps and eventually something flopping down at the edge of the coffee table.

A moment later, a head was placed on it.

Lilith looked up then.

Luz was sitting on her knees at the end of the table, her chin resting on the end with her arms loosely dragging in the floor. She had bandages around her black eye and head, and, according to her, making her look like ‘a pirate.’”

“Luz?” Lilith blinked, setting down her pen. “What are you doing up?”

“Not tired,” Luz said, her eyes turning to the witch.

Her right pupil expanded, nearly taking up all the color in her eye.

“Well, you should try to sleep,” Lilith said simply. “I have tea to help calm you down, if you want.”

“Nah,” Luz said, looking back to the papers. “Whatcha doing?”

Lilith, already tired and not thinking completely straight, decided it wouldn’t be such a bad idea to humor the human.

“Studying,” She said simply. “To help you.”

“You are?” Luz perked up, raising her head off the table. 

“Um, yes?” Lilith raised a brow. “I have been for a while now. Did you not know?” “Nobody told me!” Luz shook her head, placing her hands on the table and holding herself up. “You found a lot on the human...human thingies,” She commented, gazing at the papers.

Lilith suddenly understood, and she felt a twinge in her chest. She decided not to think about it for too long.

“Oh, no, no, I’m not studying for that.” She explained. “I’m studying how to make you feel better, not the human realm.”

Luz’s smile instantly fell. She slumped onto her elbows and glomily lay her cheek on the table.

“Oh,” She said sadly, letting out a sigh. “Okay,”

Lilith frowned, her chest suddenly feeling just a bit hollower. She thought she must’ve been feeling the weight of her exhaustion, but she was quick to realize the real issue.

Lilith sighed dramatically and ran a hand through her hair.

Great Titan, she’d begun to truly care, hadn’t she?

She bit her lip and glanced back at Luz, who was still sorrowfully staring at her papers, her pupil now contracted to half the size of a dime.

“But,” She said cautiously, catching Luz’s attention. “I suppose I could help you with that...once you feel better, of course.”

“You will?” Luz shot up again like a rocket. “Thank you!” She smiled.

Lilith gave a small smile and chuckled.

“You’re going to regret all that happened these last few days when you gain control of yourself again,” She said, going back to flipping through the pages of a medical book she found. “I know I would.”

“Why?” Luz asked, tiling her head curiously.

“Wh--Luz, even you must realize you’d never be like this in your normal state.” Lilith said matter-of-factly. “You hate me, remember?”

Luz stared at her blankly for a moment. She crossed her arms on the table and rested on them, giving her an innocent look.

“No I don’t,”

Lilith paused. She slowly glanced over to the girl, confused.

“You do,” She said firmly. “In case you forgot, I used you to lure Eda to the Emperor’s Coven and could’ve gotten you seriously hurt.”

“You did?” Luz asked, before realization dawned on her. “Oh yeah! You did,” She chuckled. “I used to have nightmares about that.” She said casually.

Lilith flinched and turned away, focusing her attention on the paper she’d read over and over again.

There was a stretched silence for a few moments. Lilith thought Luz had fallen asleep, but she was still staring at her.

“Don’t hate cha,” Luz said again, her pupil flickering. “Ya no, al menos,” She mumbled.

“And why’s that?” Lilith sighed. “If you’d care to enlighten me,”

“You try,” Luz said, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “I mean, I definitely have favorites,” She said, turning her head on her arms. “But you’re off the hate-list. Hate file. Hate...paper.” She stuck out her tongue.

“Luz, with all due respect, I’m finding that hard to believe.” Lilith said simply. “You’re in a deleriated state, and I don’t trust your words at the moment.”

“I know stuff!” Luz shot back, glaring.

“What’s six times three?” Lilith asked.

Luz stared at her for a moment. She looked down at her fingers and began quietly counting on them.

“...twenty-three?” She suggested hesitantly.

Lilith gave her a deadpan stare before sighing and setting aside another paper.

“My point still stands,”

“But I don’t,” Luz whined, pounting.

“Not to be unappreciative, but Eda is far more deserving of you than I ever will be.” Lilith said simply, ears flicking back.

“Eda’s not perfect,” Luz muttered. “She made me break into the crema...the...tori...prison.” Luz muttered. “Prison break.”

“She made you break into the crematorium?” Lilith jerked up.

“First day,” Luz grinned, raising a finger. “For a...a lil crown.” 

She suddenly lit up, happily facing Lilith.

“Hey, hey,” She started giggling. “Did you, did you know Warden Wrath,” She could barely hold back her laughs. “Wrath had a crush on Eda?”

Lilith’s eyebrows raised, and she searched Luz’s face with hesitant interest.

“I did not…” She said slowly. 

“It was weird,” Luz giggled. “And, and she forgot my name!” She said gleefully. “Had to remind her who I was.”

“She did?” Lilith said, slowly setting her pen down.

“And she laughed at me,” Luz added, resting her chin on the table as she thought. “And told me to dig through trash. And almost killed me while cursed.”

Lilith visibly flinched, turning away. She had never heard that Eda transformed while Luz was stuck in the house with her. 

How Luz made it out unscathed, she wished she knew.

“And she made me cheat at the covention,” Luz continued rattling off. “And Eda swapped our bodies because...petty I think. And made me shove moss up my nose. And she sold some of my old stuff,”

Luz visibly frowned slightly at that one.

“And she taunted me by saying I was fragile. And a bunch of other things,” She continued, her pupil spazzing for a moment. She visibly winced before it calmed to enveloping half her eye.

“That’s...quite a bit.” Lilith said slowly. 

“Yeah,” Luz nodded, before placing her hands on the table again and raising herself up.

“But I still love her,” She said cheerfully. “She did good things, too.”

“Oh, I’ve heard about those, you don’t need to list them.” Lilith quickly assured the kid. “Eda boasts about her accomplishments all the time.”

Luz smiled and began messing with the pen Lilith left on the table, rolling it around as her eye followed it.

“You’ve done good, too.” She said quietly. “I like that you try,” She said sincerely, looking up. “I try.”

Lilith watched the girl for a moment. She offered the tiniest of smiles and glanced down at her hands, looking them over.

“Thank you,” She said quietly, holding her hands close. “I...I appreciate it.”

Luz ditched the pen and held herself up higher, looking proud.

“And if I’m honest, I’d almost think you weren’t as affected as we thought,” Lilith raised a brow in amusement. “Are you sure your not actually high?”

Luz blinked at her, tilting her head in confusion and frowning. She looked down, then looked back to Lilith.

“I’m on the floor,” She said.

“...never mind.” Lilith sighed, shaking her head. “You’re a wonder, Luz, you know that?”

Luz puffed out her chest with pride and brought a hand to it. She was about to say something, but she had been resting all her weight on her hands, and with one removed, she promptly slipped and cracked her chin against the coffee table.

“Are you alright?” Lilith exclaimed as Luz groaned and held her chin, falling onto the carpeted floor. “Ow,” Luz whined.

Lilith muttered under her breath and took off her glasses. She got up and walked over to Luz, helping the girl to her feet.

“At least you can feel pain again,” She murmured. “Come on, let’s get you to bed.”

Luz didn’t respond, but she allowed the witch to guide her out of the living room, still whimpering about the pain. 

Lilith had gotten to the bottom of the stairs when Luz leaned against her side, holding her arms. Lilith looked down at her before wrapping an arm around the girl and gently leading her up the stairs.

Her studying could wait.

,

“Des-pa-cito,” 

“Day three into Luz’s descent into madness,” Gus droned over Luz’s singing. “And I’ve lost my will to continue on.”

“Quiero respirar tu cuello despacito,” Luz sang deliriously, though at least she seemed to be having fun.

The friends were all sitting on the living room floor, with Eda and King messing with some glyphs on the couch.

“Where’s Lilith?” Amity wondered, eyeing Luz, who was laying on her back on the floor.

“Holed up in her room studying on something,” Eda waved her hand casually. “Don’t know, don’t particularly care. Unless it's useful to us right now.”

“Deja que te diga cosas al oído,” Luz hummed. “Para que te acuerdes si no estás conmigo.”

“When Luz said she was going to distract herself from her headache, I wasn’t expecting this.” Willow said calmly, already glazed over from three days of putting up with this.

“It’s not that much different from yesterday,” Amity insisted.

“Des-pa-cito!”

The green-haired witches expression, however, proved that she was tired of dealing with Luz’s shenanigans as well.

“Quiero desnundar--” 

Luz suddenly cut herself off, staring at the ceiling. Amity glanced over, noticing a crimson on Luz’s face as her unbandaged pupil contracted.

“Luz?” Amity asked.

“Nope, not saying that.” Luz said, still staring at the ceiling.

Amity raised a brow and glanced at her friends. They only gave her clueless shrugs. Not like any of them knew Spanish.

“I’m too hungry to put up with this,” Eda grumbled, getting up from the couch and ditching the fire glyph she was trying to draw. “You kids want lunch?”

“It’s three PM?” Gus said, glancing up.

“Time is an illusion and so are you,” Eda responded, walking by the kids. “You hungry or not?”

“I am,” King said, scampering after her.

“A bit,” Amity nodded, standing up. “C’mon, Luz.”

“Not hungry,” Luz said simply, turning her head to watch as her friends all got up.

“I know for a fact you haven’t had lunch today,” Eda said, stopping and looking back. “You gotta eat, Luz.”

“I’m just not hungry,” Luz whined. “Wake up not hungry, stay not hungry.”

Eda frowned as Amity offered a hand and helped Luz to her feet.

“Didn’t wake up hungry?” Eda repeated. “Did you eat breakfast?”

“No,” Luz said bluntly. “Wasn’t hungry.”

“Luz!” Willow scolded.

“What? I’m not!” Luz huffed, crossing her arms.

“Luz, when was the last time you ate?” Eda sighed.

Luz paused. She scrunched up her face for a moment before beginning to mutter and count on her fingers.

You could see the fear spike through everyone in the room.

“Uh, not yesterday,” Luz mumbled. “Not...yesterday-yesterday…”

“You haven’t eaten anything in over three days?” Gus exclaimed.

“Ow,” Luz grumbled, pointing to her ears before her pupil contracted. “But...yeah, think so. Wasn’t hungry,” She shrugged like it was no big deal.

“Oh you’ve gotta be kidding me,” Eda groaned, disturbed. “Come on, Luz, you’re eating something.”

“But-”

“No buts!” Eda snapped, grabbing the back of the girls shirt and tugging her into the kitchen. “You not feeling hungry in three days is the most worrying thing you’ve said. The no-pain thing is definitely second.”

“I swear we thought she ate before and that’s why she wasn’t hungry,” Gus said, hurriedly following after.

“Not your fault, I should’ve paid more attention.” Eda shrugged, dumping Luz into the kitchen chair where she pouted. “Add that to the list of vaccine symptoms.”

“No wonder she keeps falling over,” Willow murmured, casually shoving Luz back into her seat when she tried to get up. “I would too, if I was functioning on no food.”

“Shouldn’t she have gotten better by now?” Amity asked, pacing on the opposite side of the island counter. “Eda, when did you say she’ll get better?” “I…” Eda paused, one hand on the fridge door as she thought. “...a week. A week at most.” She said, glancing back. “We’ll be seeing progress between now and the end of this week, I promise.”

She almost winced at her own lie. Which was a rare sight for the con-artist.

“I’m fine,” Luz grumbled, slumping onto the table. “I’ve had worse,”

“While you weren’t inebriated, Luz.” Amity deadpanned. “It’s one thing when you get yourself into trouble on your own, this is worse.”

“Dramatic,” Luz muttered, but didn’t comment further.

“Willow, you're the strongest, right?” Eda asked, turning and placing a bowl of leftover meat chunks on the table.

“Yeah?” Willow blinked. “Why?”

“Hold her down,” She instructed the witch. “Because she will fight back.”

Willow didn’t react for the first few moments, allowing Eda’s words to sink in for Luz. She started to shoot up and make a break for it, but Willow quickly snapped out of it and shoved the human back into her seat with little difficulty.

Luz flailed and even tried to bite Willow, but it did practically nothing. A sharp shoulder squeeze at the human wincing and obediently sitting still.

“Is this...common?” Gus inquired.

“No, not really.” Eda shook her head. “I just figured since Luz was having such an aversion to eating for three days, she probably wouldn’t be inclined to now just because we asked nicely.”

Luz tried to mimic a hiss as Eda set down the bowl in front of her. Gus giggled at the sight, since it was more like her saying the word hiss than the actual noise witches made.

“Every day, I lose more of my sanity in this house,” Amity said, stepping away as Luz tried to struggle again and Eda searched for a fork.

“Welcome to the club, kid.”

,

Luz had been sent to bed three hours earlier. 

It was the end of the third day.

Eda, for some reason, was wide awake.

This wasn’t out of the blue. She was usually up at odd hours due to her curse. She felt less inclined to do so now, but thirty-year-old habits die hard.

She figured she woke up on her own, so she got up to get a snack like usual, and to check on Luz in her room.

But when she left her own room and looked down the hallway, she saw that Luz’s door was wide open.

Panic seized her for a brief moment before she forced herself to calm down. An open door didn’t mean anything, get yourself together.

Eda poked her head inside Luz’s room and looked around. Sure enough, her sleeping bag was left abandoned, and the human was nowhere to be seen.

Her first thought was Lilith. Nothing specific at all, just that Lilith was responsible.

She shook her head and looked back towards Lilith’s ‘room.’ The light was still on.

She opened the door a crack, seeing Lilith was sitting on the floor, ready to pass out. She had books and papers strewn out before her, half of them medical, the other half everything on humans and their realm she could find. Eda knew Luz and Gus had already read through those before.

She felt the tiniest twinge of guilt at the immediate blame before silently shutting the door.

Maybe Luz had just gone for a snack, like her. It wasn’t too unusual for her to creep out at midnight.

Granted, she wasn’t on the verge of toppling over at every step those last times.

Eda walked down the stairs and looked around. She checked every room, seeing no trace of the human anywhere, her anxiety growing by the minute.

She pulled out a fire glyph and lit the candles around the kitchen, forcibly keeping her breathing normal.

“Hello?”

Eda perked at the sound of the girl's voice and pricked her ears up. She saw that the back door was wide open, explaining why Hooty hadn’t noticed anything. He was asleep at this point, anyway.

She could see the outline of someone standing well outside the house, nearly at the treeline.

“Luz!” Eda called, rushing out the door. “What are you doing out here, kid?”

Luz whirled around, eyes wide and scared.

The bandage around her head was gone, revealing the injury on her head was at nasty cotting phase. Her eye was still dark and swollen, but she could open it far better than before. The healing glyphs had sped up the process, while they had been on.

“Luz?” Eda slowed, coming to a stop a few meters from the girl, the kitchen light from the house giving her a shadow that stretched out right towards Luz.

“It...it’s her,” Luz said, slowly turning her head back around to face the forest. “I can hear her.”

“Hear who?” Eda said, taking a step closer. 

“Listen,” Luz said simply.

So, Eda did. She angled her ears to listen towards the forest, silent and still.

The only sound that greeted her was the wind through the trees.

“There it is!” Luz suddenly perked up. “That’s her!”

There hadn’t been a sound.

Eda knew her hearing was well more developed than Luz’s, all witches ears were. So the fact that Luz claimed to be hearing something even she couldn’t was...concerning.

“Kid, I can’t hear anything.” Eda shook her head.

“You’re not listening,” Luz huffed, her left pupil dilating. “It’s her! She’s somewhere out here, I know it!” She said, looking around.

“Who?” Eda demanded. “Who can you hear? What are you talking about?”

“My mamá,” Luz said, still scanning the treeline. “I can hear her.”

Oh.

Eda felt a painful twist in her chest. For a moment, she thought her gem was acting up, but it was still the same inky black as before.

“Luz,” Eda started gently, walking closer to the girl. “Your mother’s not here.”

“Yes she is, I hear her.” Luz said, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “I think you need your ears checked. She’s somewhere out there, I just need to--”

Eda grabbed Luz’s shoulder and she whirled around, startled. Her eyes flickered and spazzed, reflecting Eda’s face before shrinking again.

“That’s not her,” Eda said softly, looking down at the girl. “You’re hallucinating again, kiddo.” She said sorrowfully. “There’s nobody there.”

Luz looked up at the witch, her brows knitting together in a frown. She suddenly jerked back to the forest, head raised.

“But I hear her…” She said quietly, a crack lacing her voice.

“I know you do,” Eda said, wrapping an arm around the teens shoulders. “But there’s no way that can be her. She’s back in the human realm, remember?”

Luz stared up at Eda with wide, searching eyes. She looked back to the forest, her body tense. Eda knew that look and tightened her hold around Luz’s shoulders, her hand placed just below Luz’s collarbone.

“Mamá!” Luz shouted, straining against Eda’s hold. “Mamá! I’m here!” She cried, raising a hand to grab Eda’s, but she didn’t try to pull her off.

Eda realized that the shouting must’ve been torture to Luz’s ears. She could even see the human wince every time she shouted. And yet, she kept calling.

Luz waited, listening intently. Eda sighed and gently tried to pull the human back.

“She’s not there. She would’ve heard you.” She said. 

“She must be stuck,” Luz insisted. “Mamá!”

“Luz,” Eda breathed. “Please, she’s not--”

“She has to be!” Luz persisted, straining again. “She...she has to be...I can hear her…”

The girl looked back at Eda, tears shining in her eyes and already beginning to roll down her cheeks.

Eda’s ears pressed back and she let out a breath, drawing up her other hand to gently grab Luz’s arm, her expression full of sorrow.

“I’m sorry, Luz.” She said softly. “I’m so sorry, but that’s not her.”

Luz sniffled and hiccuped. She opened her mouth to shout more, but all that came out was a strangled gasp. She quickly closed her mouth again, shutting her eyes as tears freely rolled down her cheeks.

The girl turned and buried her face in the crook of Eda’s arm, her hands tightly clutching Eda’s dress as she tried and failed to muffle her sobs.

Eda enveloped the girl in a hug, feeling every shake her body gave as she wailed. The human flinched at every loud noise she made, but was unable to stop it.

Eda offered hushed whispers, holding the girl up and placing a hand on the back of her head. She stared off into the trees, only being greeted by the empty shadows.

The only sound now was Luz’s cries.

The witch, keeping her arms around Luz, began to guide her back to the house. Luz stayed clinging to her side, her face streaked with tears.

It was awkward maneuvering around her, but she didn’t complain.

Luz’s sobs had quieted to choked cries by the time Eda stepped inside, shutting the door behind her.

She debated trying to turn off the lights, since she couldn’t rely on her magic to do that for her, but she decided to let the candles burn themselves out instead.

“Can you walk, kid?” Eda asked the girl.

Luz sniffled and nodded, slowly peeling herself off of Eda’s side.

“Come on, let’s hit the hay, eh?” She offered, nudging the girl in front of her. “When’s the last time we got a good night's rest, am I right?” She said, trying a half-hearted joke.

Luz paused at that, wiping at her eyes as she thought.

“I don’t think I’ve slept the last two days,” Luz said, glancing back.

Eda stared at her, praying that the girl was joking. And as hard it was to take Luz seriously with one pupil blown wide and the other taking up her entire iris, she knew very well she wasn’t joking.

“Great Titan, kid,” Eda sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. “Alright, my nest. Someone has to keep an eye on you.”

Luz nodded and began to climb the stairs, holding her hands together to try and stop their shaking. Eda stayed right behind her, fearfully shifting every time she saw the girl sway slightly.

Eda caught Lilith’s door quickly shutting when they made it up the stairs. She wasn’t surprised, Luz hadn’t necessarily been quiet.

Luz stumbled down the hallway, Eda hovering right behind her. She looked away for a moment to look at Lilith’s closed door, noting that the lights were off now.

She heard a thud.

Eda spun around, tensing.

Luz had fallen mid-step, crashing onto the floor in a heap. In a flash, Eda was at her side and pulling her up, terrified something bad had happened.

Instead, she was greeted by Luz’s soft snores.

“Of course,” Eda sighed, scooping her up into her arms. “Just my luck you’d pass out before we even got to my room.” She muttered.

Effortlessly, she carried the human to her room and kicked the door shut behind her. She lay Luz in her nest, leaning her head on the edge to keep it propped up.

Eda searched her room for a moment before finding the spare gauzes and healing glyphs she kept for emergencies. It was awkward trying to wrap up Luz’s head, but she managed and placed two healing glyphs on her, one over her eye and the other on the back of her head.

She searched her nest for a moment before pulling out an old blanket she rarely used. She wrapped it around Luz and lay her back down before slipping into her nest beside her.

Luz twitched in her sleep, but aside from that, she didn’t stir.

Eda lay on her stomach, her head squished against the edge of the nest. She glanced at Luz beside her before wrapping one arm around her, keeping the girl close.

“I’m sorry, kid.” Eda sighed quietly. “You never deserved any of this.”

All that greeted her was deafening silence.

,

“Are you sure you feel fine?” Gus asked for the eighth time that morning.

“Yes, Gus,” Luz sighed. “I swear that I am completely conscious now.”

“Guess your prediction was right,” Eda mumbled to Lilith, standing off to the side from the group. “Been a week, and she’s nearly normal again.”

“Thank goodness!” King breathed, slumping over Luz’s crossed leg. “I couldn’t handle being smothered by you again.”

“Sorry,” Luz winced, giving a sheepish smile. “I take it I…” She raised a hand and felt at her eye, which, while less swollen, was still noticeable. “Caused a bit of trouble?” She guessed shyly.

“Your hallucinations weren’t fun,” Willow nodded. “Or your unending thirst for every water bottle you could find.”

“And your refusal to eat and sleep,” Eda added.

Luz rubbed the back of her neck, hunching her shoulders and offering nervous smiles.

“Sorry, guys.”

“Don’t worry, it’s not your fault.” Amity assured her. 

Eda casted a sideways glare at Lilith, who looked away and held her hands behind her back.

“At least you’ll get to freely move around the beast keeping track now,” Willow added. “Viney will appreciate the help, I’m sure.”

“Oh, yeah!” Luz perked up. “No more sick day excuses!” She pumped a fist.

“Which means you’re helping out with the trash slugs now,” Eda reminded with a grin. “Because now you don’t have excuses.”

“Getting vaccines doesn’t mean she’s immune to all sickness, Edalyn.” Lilith grit her teeth and sent a glare towards her sister.

“Yeah, but she won’t get, like, ones that’ll kill her.” Eda waved a hand casually.

“Aw,” Luz slumped.

“A moment of silence for Luz.” Willow said solemnly. 

“Do you wanna read about what happened?” Gus asked excitedly, already pulling out his notebook.

“Am I going to regret it if I do?” Luz turned to Amity.

“Fifty-fifty,” Amity tilted her hand. “I’d skip the part with the broken window and dumpster-diving.”

“And the kitchen incident?” Willow added, giving Amity a smug look.

Amity gave a guttural growl and lowered her ears.

“I’m already worried,” Luz said, anxiously glancing between her friends.

“How about we hold off on the trip down memory lane?” Lilith said, walking around and slowly pushing down Gus’s notebook that he was pulling out. “Luz, aside from the usual symptoms, is anything different?” She questioned the girl.

“Uh,” Luz frowned and thought for a moment. “A mild headache is normal, right?”

“Yeah, you got those all the time.” King nodded.

Luz hummed and thought, tapping her fingers on the carpet before perking up.

“Oh, I think I’ve got a better pain tolerance now.”

“I thought that faded?” Amity exclaimed, panicked. 

“That was an issue?” Luz blinked. “I mean, it’s not that bad. I kinda fell down the stairs earlier but all I got was a regular bruise instead of a small gash like three weeks ago.”

“You really need to fix the stairs if this is a common issue,” Lilith turned to Eda.

“Oh, that’s not as bad.” Willow relaxed. “Your pain tolerance used to be so high that when you cut your head you didn’t feel a thing.”

Luz gave Willow a wide-eyed, very concerned look.

“Wasn’t fun,” Amity shook her head, shuttering.

“Yeah, no, my tolerance is nowhere near that high.” Luz assured them. “And I can sort of feel the magic from my glyphs? I dunno, it’s hard to describe.”

“Probably the magic the vaccines had,” Eda shrugged. “That might last a while longer.”

“Cool,” Luz grinned. “Oh, and my vision feels weird sometimes, but I think I’ll be fine after a few hours.”

“Yeah, that's normal. Your eyes acted up a lot.” Gus nodded. “It was really funny, your entire eye would be just black.”

“...human pupils can’t dilate that much.” Luz said, concern lacing her tone.

“They can now,” Eda snickered. “With the,” She broke off in a fit of giggles. “The power of witch drugs.”

“I’m going to admit,” King raised his head. “Now I’m curious what actual drugs would do to you.”

“You have drugs in the Isles?” Luz exclaimed. “Like, illegal ones?”

“Course we do,” Eda chuckled. “You can find them at the Night Market for, what, ten snails?”

“That’s the cheap ones.” Lilith corrected. “The very illegal ones go for fifty or more.”

“And you know this because…?”

Lilith stiffened and cast a fearful glance at the children all watching her expectantly. Aside from Amity, who looked very worried.

“...I used to catch a lot of people selling at the Night Market,” Lilith said, crossing her arms. “It’s hard not to take notice of how much they were going for.”

“Plot twist of the century, ex-coven leader Lilith Clawthorne snorts fairy dust.” Eda giggled. “Oh how the masses would love that.”

“Edalyn!” Lilith gasped.

“Am I wrong?”

“And this is our cue to leave,” Luz whispered to her friends as the sisters began their daily bickering.

Her friends didn’t argue, they just quickly got up and shuffled towards the door. Willow carried King with them in her arms like a football, much to his silent complaints.

Luz opened the door and guided her friends out, quitey shutting out the arguing sisters.

“Hi, guys!” Hooty chirped.

Luz winced and pulled away, rubbing at her ears.

“Ow,” She muttered.

“Are your ears still sensitive?” Amity worried, shooting Hooty a glare that made him shut up.

“Only a little,” Luz offered a smile, stepping away from the front door. “Anyway, what did I miss while I was out of it?”

“Nothing much,” Gus said, beginning to walk off as the rest followed. “Aside from, like, a ton of homework.” “I expect nothing less,” Luz muttered, pain etched into her face.

“You want me to ask Principal Bump to loosen up on you for a bit?” Amity asked.

“Teachers pet privilege,” Willow whispered under her breath.

“I heard that!” Amity snapped.

“Just a little,” Luz nodded. “I’m still emotionally recovering from being basically unconscious for a week.”

“I still have the notes if you want to read them,” Gus said, slowly pulling out his notebook again.

“On one hand, yes,” Luz said. “But on the other hand, I’m scared of what I’ll find.”

“It’s mostly just filled with you falling over a lot and singing random songs on repeat.” Willow shrugged.

“I have all of them stuck in my head at the same time and I can’t get them out,” Amity whispered, looking horror-stricken.

Luz chuckled nervously, rubbing along the edges of her black eye.

“You know, I think I’m glad I don’t remember much.”

[tyrantisterror]

I did a four part series of trivia posts when ATOM Volume 1: Tyrantis Walks Among Us! came out, and that was pretty fun!  You can see that set of trivia posts here if you’d like.  I thought it’d be fun to do another now that ATOM Volume 2: Tyrantis Roams the Earth! is out - just one this time, because a lot of the trivia I talked about with Volume 1 still applies.

I’m gonna divide this into two sections: non-spoiler trivia, for things that really don’t give a lot of plot points away, and spoiler trivia, for things that DO give away major plot points.  I recommend not reading the spoiler trivia until after you’ve read Tyrantis Roams the Earth!, for obvious reasons, and will put the spoiler trivia under a cut.

Ok, let’s go!

- So if you read ATOM Volume 1, you probably noticed that the book is split not only into chapters, but “episodes,” which consist of four chapters a piece.  It’s kind of a nod to how the series owes a great deal of its DNA to various monster of the week shows, with Godzilla: the Series and The Godzilla Power Hour being obvious influences.  It also allowed me to pepper in some illustrations and cheesy b-movie style titles into each volume.

- The first “episode” of Volume 2, Tyrantis in Tokyo, pays explicit homage to the giant monster movies of Japan, perhaps even moreso than the chapters that came before it.  Given how much Japanese media influenced ATOM - from tokusatsu like the Godzilla, Gamera, and Ultraman franchises to anime like Digimon and Evangelion (hell, the title of this episode itself is a tip of the hat to Tenchi Muyo by way of one of its spinoffs) - it kind of felt obligatory that Tyrantis visit Japan and pay his respects.

- Tyrantis in Tokyo also fits in a tribute to another staple of Atomic Age pop culture: Rock and Roll.

- Kutulusca, the giant cephalopod that appears in Tyrantis in Tokyo, is one of the oldest kaiju in this series, dating back to the first iteration of Tyrantis’s story that I put to paper back in 2001 or so.  It’s changed a lot since then, but its fight with Tyrantis goes more or less the way it originally did.

- Old Meg, the giant placoderm/shark, and Nastadyne, the bipedal beetle, both owe their existence directly to Deviantart’s Godzilla fandom.  Old Meg originated as a dunkleosteus monster I submitted to a “create a Godzilla kaiju” contest held by Matt Frank, while Nastadyne is based on a Megalon redesign I made during the “redesign all the Godzilla kaiju” phase of DA’s kaiju fandom.

- The second episode, Tyrantis vs. the Red Menace, gets dark as we visit the USSR, which had enough REAL horror with atomic power in its history to make creature features seem a bit defanged by comparison.  It’s probably the episode with the strongest horror elements - ATOM’s always been influenced by Resident Evil, and this is probably where that influence shows the most strongly.

- It also features the first fully robotic mecha in the series, the mighty Herakoschei!  Its name is a combination of “Heracles” and “Koschei the Deathless,” with the former part being added by its Russian creators to make it seem a bit more international as they offer it to the U.N. in hopes of gaining aid for a very extreme kaiju problem they’ve developed.

- Most of Tyrantis vs. the Red Menace takes place in the Siberian Monster Zone.  Its name is a reference to the Lawless Monster Zone in Ultraman, which is such a cool fucking name I wish that I wish I could go back in time and steal it.

- The next episode, Tyrantis’s Revenge, is... full of spoilers, so we’ll move on for now.

- The penultimate episode, Tyrantis vs. the Martian Monsters, is a love letter to MANY different sci-fi stories that involve life on Mars, though the most prominent of them is of course The War of The Worlds (one of my top 3 favorite books) and its various adaptations.  From its tentacles sapient martians, the tripodal leader of the titular monsters whose name includes the word “ulla” which is uttered by said sapient martians, the plant monster made of red vines, the cylinder-shaped spacecraft the Martian monsters are sent to earth on, the copper-skinned stingray-esque flying martian who shoots lasers from its tail, and the fact that every chapter title in this episode is a quote from the book, the H.G. Wells influence is STRONG.

- The final episode, Invasion from Beyond!, is shamelessly inspired by Destroy All Monsters, although there’s a dash of “To Serve Men,” Godzilla vs. Monster Zero, and The Day the Earth Stood Still mixed in as well.  It’s also sort of a tribute to my first “published” bit of a kaiju fiction - a rewrite of Destroy All Monsters that included EVERY Godzilla monster that had appeared at the time, which my middle school self wrote back in 2002 or so for Kaiju Headquarters, a kaiju fansite I’m not sure exists anymore.  Invasion from Beyond! is just as ambitious (but hopefully better executed) as my DAM Remake, with dozens upon dozens of different kaiju duking it out, earthlings vs. aliens.

- There were three different documents I made to outline the final battle of Invasion from Beyond!  It’s the largest episode of the series so far and more than half of it is that fucking fight.  My inner child is pleased, though, so hopefully you will be too.

Ok, that’s all I can share without spoilers.  READER BEWARE WHAT FOLLOWS BELOW THE CUT!

JUST MAKING SURE you know that SPOILERS will follow from here on out.  Read at your own peril!  YOU WERE WARNED!

(I’m gonna start with lighter ones just in case you scrolled too far and want to turn back)

- There’s a number of explicit Spielberg homages in ATOM Volume 2, from a “we need a bigger boat” joke during a chase with a giant shark to the fact that Invasion from Beyond! opens with a group of people flying to an island of monsters to review whether or not it should get more funding.

- When Tyrantis appears in the first chapter, I snuck in modified lyrics of The Godzilla Power Hour’s theme song.  “Up from the depths”... “several stories high”... “breathing fire”... “its head in the sky”... Tyrantis!  Tyrantis!  Tyrantis!

- The two rock bands in Tyrantis in Tokyo have real life inspirations ala Gwen Valentine, albeit a bit more muddled than hers.  The Cashews are inspired by The Peanuts (see what I did there), while The Thunder Lizards are a mix of The Rolling Stones, the Beatles, Buddy Holly, and the Big Bopper.  I wanted The Thunder Lizards to be more akin to the myth of a famous rock and roll band than the reality - less the real Beatles and more the Yellow Submarine cartoon version of them.

- The song The Thunder Lizards write for Tyrantis was written to fit the tune of “The Godzilla March” from Godzilla vs. Gigan, though ideally if someone made an actual song of it it would be its own song.  I got the idea from Over the Garden Wall, which used the Christmas song “O Holy Night” as a a starting point for “Come Wayward Souls.”

- Perry Martin, UNNO reporter and peer of Henry Robertson, is a nod to Raymond Burr, with his name being a combination of two of Burr’s most famous roles: Perry Mason, and Steve Martin from Godzilla King of the Monsters (1956).

- Dr. Rinko Tsuburaya is a few homages in one.  Her name comes from Rinko Kikuchi (who played Mako Mori in Pacific Rim), while her last name is obviously in homage of Eiji Tsuburaya.  Her being the daughter of an esteemed scientist is inspired by Emiko Yamane from the original Gojira.

- Nastadyne’s Burning Justice mode is named after a similar super mode from various Transformers cartoons, though it’s more directly inspired by the Shining/Burning Finger super move from G Gundam.

- Martians sending kaiju to different planets via shooting them out of cannons (with or without cylinder spaceships around them) is another War of the Worlds shoutout.  So is martians living on Venus after their homeworld was made uninhabitable, actually.

- Kurokame’s vocalizations are described as wails in explicit homage to Gamera.  His name can be translated as either “black tortoise” (a reference to the mythical guardian beast Genbu, which can also be construed as a Gamera reference thanks to Gamera: Advent of Irys implying Gamera and Genbu are one and the same) or a portmanteau of the Japanese words for crocodile and turtle - “crocturtle.”

- Burodon’s name is just a mangling of “burrow down.”  It also sounds vaguely like Baragon, who Burodon is loosely inspired by.  AND, since Burodon is sort of a knockoff/modified Baragon, that kinda makes him a reference to various monsters in Ultraman!

- The final battle of Tyrantis in Tokyo is sort of a hybrid of the finales of Ghidorah the 3 Headed Monster and Destroy All Monsters.  

- The Japanese kaiju teaching Tyrantis the art of throwing rocks at your enemies is both a joke on the prominence of rock throwing in Japanese kaiju fights AND the tired trope of an American hero learning secret martial arts from a Japanese mentor ala Batman, Iron Fist, etc.  In this case, the secret martial art is throwing rocks at people.

- When introduced to Herakoschei and its pilot, we are told that the strain of piloting this early mecha is so intense that many pilots have died in the process, with the current one passing out on more than few occasions.  This is of course a Pacific Rim homage - sadly, no one invents drifting.

- Herakoschei’s design is a loose homage to Robby the Robot and Cherno Alpha, because big boxy robots are cool.

- The Writhing Flesh and ESPECIALLY Pathogen are both hugely influenced by Resident Evil and The Thing.  Giant body horror piles of raw flesh, tendrils, mismatched mouths and limbs may be a bit outside the main era of monster design ATOM homages, but they fit the themes and bring a nice contrast.

- I came up with Pathogen long before Corona but MAN it definitely feels different in 2021 to have a giant monster whose name is a synonym for disease driving other creatures crazy in a quarantine zone than it did when I plotted out the story in 2016.

- The chapter title “Hello, Old Foes” is a riff on “Goodbye, Old Friend”

- Minerva, the kaiju-fied clone of Dr. Lerna, is meant to be an homage to Attack of the 50 Foot Woman, which is a genuinely good giant monster flick.  I am sure many of you will also believe I included her because I’m a pervert whose into tall women, but you’d be wrong!  I included the seven foot tall Russian mecha pilot Ludmilla Portnova because I’m a pervert whose into tall women.  Minerva’s inclusion was just coincidental, I swear!

- Since Promythigor is a play on the archetypal ape kaiju to contrast Tyrantis as a play on the archetypal fire-breathing reptile kaiju, their fight has a lot of nods to King Kong movies.  Promythigor attempts the famous jaw-snap maneuver of Kong (with less success), J.C. Clark paraphrases the “brute force vs. a thinking animal” line from the King Kong vs. Godzilla American cut, and Tyrantis slides down a mountain to knock Promythigor off his feet in a reversal of Kong doing the same in King Kong vs. Godzilla.

- Tyrantis sliding down a mountain on his tail doubles as a Godzilla vs. Megalon homage.

- Though Promythigor is the archetypal Ape and Tyrantis the archetypal Fire-Breathing Reptile, I think it’s fun to note that in some ways, Promythigor is the Godzilla equivalent in their matchup, and Tyrantis the Kong.  Promythigor has a slight size advantage, was scarred by humans performing unethical weapons technology, and is associated with violent explosions.  Tyrantis is a good-at-heart prehistoric beast who humanized in part by his unlikely friendship with a human woman.

- Of course, in the context of the famous quote from the American cut of King Kong vs. Godzilla, they remain in their archetypal lanes.  Promythigor is the more intelligent of the two (though not necessarily wiser), and Tyrantis is in many ways a brute reptile.  Their battle is a rebuttal of sorts to the assertion that Kong is the “better” animal because he is closer to human.  Promythigor’s near human creativity and emotions don’t make him the kinder/more benevolent monster, but instead fuel a very self-centered and destructive attitude that makes him the far more dangerous threat.  On the other hand, Tyrantis, who is less intelligent, limited in communication with others by his reptilian mindset and instincts, and simple in his thoughts and desires, is nonetheless a sweet creature that is easily dealt with when others consider his animal needs and mindset.  There’s a quote from Hellboy I love that probably sums up all of my writing thus far: “To be other than human does not mean the same as being less,” and that’s what the matchup between these two in particular tries to illustrate: the “less” human Tyrantis is nonetheless more benign than the “more” human Promythigor.

- Kraydi the psychic lizard began life as a soft sculpture I made of the Canyon Krayt Dragon from The Wildlife of Star Wars.  The sculpture didn’t look much like the illustration, but I liked how it came out, and so I made it an original monster named Kraydi (see what I did there).  Figuring out an explanation for that name in ATOM’s world was possibly the most difficult kaiju naming task in the series, but it worked out in the end.

- Kraydi and Promythigor having psychic powers is a result of my time on Godzilla fan forums in my middle school years.  Most of the forums had OC kaiju battle tournaments, and SO many of those kaiju had a wide array of beam weapons and psychic powers just to win the tournaments by beam-spamming and mind controlling their foes into oblivion.  There’s a special kind of rage you get when your original creation is beaten by “Fire Godzilla” because he has a genius level intellect and the power of unstoppable telekinesis.  Kraydi began as (and still is I suppose) my attempt to do a psychic kaiju well, while Promythigor’s villainy being tied to psychic powers being forced on him is sort of my passive aggressive commentary on people foisting powers on a monster without any real thematic reason for them.

- Henry Robertson and Dr. Praetorius chewing out the laziness of people giving kaiju completely unaltered names of mythic beasts will probably be seen as a jab at the Monsterverse and/or the numerous writers in the kaiju OC scene who do the same, but it’s ACTUALLY a jab at my past self, who had DOZENS of kaiju whose names were just Greek mythological figures verbatim.  There are dozens of kaiju named Hydra, Scylla, Charybdis, Chimera, etc., past me, try to make the names stand out!  Oh wait you did.  I mean, don’t pat yourself on the back too much, you still went with “Mothmanud” as a canon name and never came up with something better, but, like, good on ya for trying I guess.

- Dr. Praetorius takes his name from the evil mad scientis in Bride of Frankenstein, who basically has all the wicked traits that Universal’s Frankenstein downplayed in their take on Dr. Frankenstein.  Ironically, ATOM’s Dr. Praetorius is a bit less evil than his fellow mad scientists in ATOM.  I really like how his character turned out, he surprised me.

- Isaac Rossum, the pilot of the USA mecha Atomoton, is named for Isaac Aasimov, whose robot stories are to robot fiction what Lord of the Rings is to high fantasy.  His last name is a reference to Rossum’s Universal Robots, which is where the word “robot” came from.

- The unfortunate pilots of MechaTyrantis in ATOM Volumes 1 and 2 are all nods to Jurassic Park.  John Ludlow = John Hammond and Peter Ludlow, Ian Grant = Ian Malcolm and Alan Grant, Dennis Dodgson = Dennis Nedry and Lewis Dodgson.

- A good way to pitch Invasion from Beyond! would be “what if the staff and monsters were able to fight back when the Kilaaks tried to take over Monsterland?”

- Ok, here’s a fun joke that no one will get but me because it requires a very specific chain of logic based on some obscure and loosely connected nerd bullshit.  There’s a rocker in ATOM’s universe named Sebastian Haff, right?  One of his songs, “Darling Let’s Shimmy,” is referenced right before a mothmanud larva emerges from the ground in both ATOM Vol. 1 and 2.  Ok, so, in the Bubba Hotep, an aging Elvis impersonator named Sebastian Haff claims he is actually the real Elvis Presley, having changed places with the real Sebastian Haff as a sort of Prince and the Pauper deal that went wrong.  Got that?  Ok, so, in UFO folklore, a common joke is the theory that Elvis didn’t die, but was rather abducted by aliens (or he actually WAS an alien the whole time - the whole “Elvis didn’t die, he just went home” joke in Men in Black is a good example of this).  Ok?  Ok.  So, in ATOM’s universe, we can surmise that their equivalent of Elvis, whose name is Sebastian Haff, WAS abducted by aliens, and that his song “Darling Let’s Shimmy” is subconsciously influenced by his repressed memories from his time aboard the Beyonder spaceships, which is why it accidentally awoke a Mothmanud larva in Volume 1.  There’s a lot of bullshit jokes I put into ATOM, but this is perhaps the bullshittiest of them all.

- One of the most common bits of feedback on ATOM Volume 1 I got was “I kept waiting for something to eat Brick Rockwell, he’s such an asshole.”  And I had to smile and go, “Oh, yeah, guess he never got his, huh?” the whole time without letting on that he was going to die here all along!

- Dr. Lerna and Brick Rockwell’s nature as foils to each other is probably most apparent in Invasion from Beyond!, where both are given fairly similar situations - a nonhuman approaches them with a solution to a global crisis - and react to it very differently.  I worry that some people may think they both made the same choice and got different results, and that that’s hypocrisy on my part, but I hope I wrote it so you can see how their choices and situations actually differ in key ways, and why their decisions, while similar on the surface, are ultimately very different, and thus result in almost opposite outcomes.

- So, when I planned out this book in 2016, I swear I didn’t know about the Orca from 2019′s Godzilla King of the Monsters.  Having the plot hang around Dr. Lerna deciding whether or not to use a sonic device to rouse all the kaiju to save the earth was not INTENDED to be a Monsterverse reference - it came about from me looking at Pathfinder’s take on kaiju, who are all explicitly influenceable by music, and thinking, “Oh, wow, music and songs DO have a major connection with kaiju in a lot of media, I should do something with that.”  Whem KOTM came out a few days after Volume 1 came out I realized I was kinda fucked here, because the comparison was definitely going to be made, but I’d also set this all up already and you can’t just change suddenly to avoid looking like a copy cat and make a good story, so... I dunno, I leaned into it a bit, but it is what it is.

- While most people will probably think they’re a reference to the Reptoids of UFO folklore, the Reptodites are more inspired by the Dinosapien of speculative evolution fame and, even morso, by the Reptites from Chrono Trigger.  Me wanting to avoid the “lizard people control the government” conspiracy theory trope is one of the main reasons why Reptodites have this non-interference clause with humanity.

- Lieutenant Gray is a bunch of different humanoid aliens rolled into one - a little Hopskinville goblin, a little classic gray, a little this one weird alien with five-fingered zygodactyl hands, etc.

- There’s some Beyonder Mecha in this volume that are basically kaiju-fied versions of the Flatwoods Monster.  The species that built them ALSO engineered the Mothmanuds, because connecting Mothman and the Flatwoods Monster is fun!

- Pleprah is, obviously, a one-eyed one-horned flying purple people eater.

- Tyrantis’s brush with death, in addition to being so very anime, was inspired by my dad outlining how mythic heroes often have to travel to the underworld/land of the dead before they can finish their journey.  It’s one of the plot points that I’ve had planned for this series since middle school.

- I’m sure some will view it as hackneyed and corny, but as a person who’s battled with depression for decades, having Tyrantis’s choice to live be the big heroic turn of the finale was very important to me.  Tyrantis incorporates elements of a lot of imaginary friends I made as a kid, and in many ways he’s kind of the face of my more positive side in my head.  He’s been telling me to choose to live for a while, and while maybe to an outsider it may seem hackneyed, it’s just... very Tyrantis.  He chooses life and kindness in the face of pain and struggle.  That’s Tyrantis.

- Tyrantis’s powered up form is called “Hyper Mode,” which is another Gundam reference.  Originally it was a lot gaudier and involved him turning gold like a fuckin’ Super Saiyan.  I opted for something a little more toned down here.  

- Also, speaking of KOTM references, I decided to make Hyper Mode Tyrantis’s final duel with Pathogen be a sort of foil to Burning Godzilla’s final bout with Ghidorah in KOTM.  Instead of ravaging the city, Hyper Tyrantis’s pulse of energy rejuvenates his fallen allies, and as a result he is “crowned” not out of fear for his supremacy in the wake of killing a powerful enemy, but in gratitude for his kindness.  See?  Leaning into it!

- And now I can finally reveal that Yamaneon is ATOM’s equivalent of The Monolith Monsters - that is, a kaiju that is also a mineral.  I took the “strange continuously growing rock” thing in a very different direction, though, as unlike The Monolith Monsters, Yamaneon is actually alive.

- At various points in the pre-writing process, either Promythigor, MechaTyrantis, or both were going to die fighting Pathogen.  I ultimately decided to let them both live, with MechaTyrantis even getting his flesh and blood body back, because I think it’s more interesting and thematically consistent that way.  They get a chance to heal their wounds by changing their ways.

- The Great Beyonder and Dorazor both almost didn’t make the cut, as I felt they didn’t have the same pull as villains that Pathogen, Promythigor, and MechaTyrantis did.  But then I thought that could actually be the gag - build them up as the final boss, only to have Pathogen take their crown.  I want to explore post-face turn Dorazor a bit more, though.  We’ll have to see about that in a later volume.

- Volumes 1 and 2 make up what I call “The Ballad of Tyrantis Arc” for ATOM.  I call it that because Tyrantis’s storyline in these two volumes was patterend after Chivalric ballads like Yvain the Knight of the Lion.  Tyrantis, a heroic warrior who is kind but dumb of ass, learns of strange goings on outside his home and investigates.  During his journey into the unknown he falls in love with a powerful woman, whose favor he tries to win.  Through happenstance he is separated from his love and, distraught, wanders around fighting various foes to prove his worth, before finally returning to his love a better hero.  Invasion from Beyond! could even be seen as a sort of Morte d’Artur, with Tyrantis and a bunch of other kaiju heroes (including Nastadyne and Kemlasulla, who are built up as Hero Kaiju of Another Story) take part in a huge battle that threatens their idealic kingdom (of monsters).

- Volume 2 isn’t the end of ATOM, but it’s designed to work as an ending if you want to tap out here.  As a reader I feel a definitive ending is important, but as a writer I’m always tempted to revisit my beloved characters, so I feel giving closure while leaving a few doors open for possible future adventures is a good compromise between these positions.  There will be more ATOM stories, some (but not all!) following Tyrantis and Dr. Lerna, but if you want to know that Tyrantis and Dr. Lerna get an ending and the resolution to their arcs such a thing promises, here you go.  An ending, if not THE END.

[dangermousie]

Heelo mousie! Love your blog! Do you mind recommending some of your favourite Chinese BL novels or shows?

I've seen the untamed and read it. I'm currently reading heaven's official blessing and I saw the donghua. Anything other than these two?

Awww, thank you!

Novels: I am gonna be lazy and literally copy/paste the entire danmei section of my top 10 web novels post (except MXTX’s stuff since you are already reading it.) Let me know if you need help finding any of these.

Lord Seventh - I am only partway through this so far, but it’s already on the list because it’s smart and somehow intense AND laid-back (not sure how this works, but it does) and is honestly just a really really solid and smart period novel, with the OTP a cherry on top of a narrative sundae. Plus, I love the concept of MC deciding he is not going for his supposedly fated love - he’s tried for six lifetimes, always with disaster, and he’s just plain done and tired. When he opens his life in his seventh reincarnation and sees the person he would have given up the world for, he genuinely feels nothing at all. (Spoiler - his OTP is actually a barbarian shaman this time around, thank you Lord!)

Golden Stage - my perfect comfort novel. Probably the least angsty of any danmei novel on this list (which still means plenty angsty :P) It also has a dedicated, smart OTP that is an OTP for the bulk of the book - I think you will notice that in most of the novels in this list, I go for “OTP against the world” trope - I can’t stand love triangles and the same. Anyway, Fu Shen, is a famous general whose fame is making the emperor   antsy. When he gets injured and can’t walk any more, the emperor gladly recalls him and marries him off to his most faithful court lackey, the head of sort of secret police, Yan Xiaohan. The emperor intends it both  as a check on the general and a general spite move since the two men   always clash in court whenever they meet. But not all is at is seems. They used to be  friends a long time ago, had a falling out, and one of the loveliest  parts of the novel is them finding their way to each other, but there is  also finding the middle path between their two very different  philosophies and ways of being, not to mention solving a conspiracy or  dozen, and putting a new dynasty on the throne, among other things. It always makes me think, a little, of “if Mei Changsu x Jingyan were canon.”

Sha Po Lang - if you like a lot of fantasy politics and world-building and steampunk with your novels, this one is for you. This one is VERY plot-heavy with smart, dedicated characters and a deconstruction of many traditional virtues - our protagonist Chang Geng, a long-lost son of the Emperor, is someone who wants to modernize the country but also take down the current emperor his brother for progress’ sake and the person he’s in love with is the general who saved him when he was a kid who is nominally his foster father. Anyway, the romance is mainly a garnish in this one, not even a big side dish, but the relationship between two smart, dedicated, deadly individuals with very different concepts of duty is fascinating long before it turns romantic. And if you like angst, while overall it’s not as angsty as e.g., Meatbun stuff, Chang Geng’s childhood is the stuff of nightmares and probably freaks me out more than anything else in any novel on this list, 2ha included.

To Rule In a Turbulent World (LSWW) - gay Minglan. No seriously. This is how I think of it. it’s a slice of life period novel with fascinating characters and  setting that happens to have a gay OTP, not a romance in a period  setting per se and I always prefer stories where the romance is not the only thing that is going on. It’s meticulously written and smart and deals with  character development and somehow makes daily minutia fascinating. Our   protagonist, You Miao, is the son of a fabulously wealthy merchant,   sent to the capital to make connections and study. As the story starts, he sees his friend’s  servants beating someone to death, feels bad, and buys him because, as  we discover gradually and organically, You Miao may be wealthy and  occasionally immature but he is a genuinely good person. The person he buys is a barbarian from beyond the wall, named   Li Zhifeng. It’s touch and go if the man will survive but eventually he does and You Miao, who by then has to return home, gives him his papers  and lets him go. However, LZF decides to stick with You Miao instead, both  out of sense of debt for YM saving his life and because he genuinely  likes him (and yet, there is no instalove on either of their parts, their bodies have fun a lot quicker than their souls.) Anyway, the two  take up farming, get involved in  the imperial exams and it’s the life of prosperity and peace, until an invasion happens and things go rapidly to hell. This is so nuanced, so smart (smart people in this actually ARE!) and has secondary characters who are just as complex as the mains (for example, I ended up adoring YM’s friend, the one who starts the plot by almost beating LZF to death for no reason) because the novel never forgets that few people are all villain. There is a lovely character arc or two - watching YM grow up and LZF thaw - there is the fact that You Miao is a unicorn in web novels being laid back and calm. This whole thing is a masterpiece.

Stains of Filth (Yuwu) - want the emotional hit of 2ha but want to read something half its length? Well, the author of 2ha is here to eviscerate you in a shorter amount of time. This has the beautiful world-building, plot twists that all make sense and, at the center of it all, an intense and all-consuming and gloriously painful relationship between two generals - one aristocratic loner Mo Xi, and the other gregarious former slave general Gu Mang. Once they were best friends and lovers, but when the novel starts, Gu Mang has long turned traitor and went to serve the enemy kingdom and has now been returned and Mo Xi, who now commands the remnants of his slave army, has to cope with the fact that he has never been able to get over the man who stabbed him through the heart. Literally. This novel has a gorgeously looping structure, with flashbacks interwoven into present storyline. There is so much love and longing and sacrifice in this that I am tearing up a bit just thinking of it. If you don’t love Mo Xi and Gu Mang, separately and together, by the end of it, you have no soul.

The Dumb Husky and His White Cat Shizun (2ha/erha) - if you’ve been following my tumblr for more than a hot second, you know my obsession with this novel. Honestly, even if I were to make a list of my top 10 novels of any kind, not just webnovels, this would be on the list. It has everything I want - a complicated, intricate plot with an insane amount of plot twists, all of which are both unexpected and make total sense, a rich and large cast of characters, a truly epic OTP that makes me bawl, emotional intensity that sometimes maxes even me out and so much character nuance and growth. Also, Moran is my favorite web novel character ever, hands down.

Anyway, the plot (or at least the way it first appears) is that the evil emperor of the cultivation world, Taxian Jun, kills himself at 32 and wakes up in the body of his 16 year old self, birth name Moran. Excited to get a redo, Moran wants to save his supposed true love Shimei, whose death the last go-around pushed him towards evil. He also wants to avoid entanglement with Chu Wanning, his shizun and sworn enemy in past life. And that’s all you are best off knowing, trust me. The only hint I am going to give is oooh boy the mother of all unreliable narrators has arrived!

The novel starts light and funny on boil the frog principle - if someone told me I would be full bawling multiple times with this novel, I’d have thought they were insane, but i swear my eyes hurt by the end of it. I started out being amused and/or disliking the mains and by the end I would die for either of them.

The Wife is First - OK, this one did not make my top 10 web novels but it’s a sweet, fun gay cottagecore fest. Our ML, a royal prince, and his spouse, a smart if delicate aristocrat, keep house, eat noodles, play with their pet tiger, make out and spoil each other rotten, while occasionally fighting battles and outwitting their court enemies. It’s so very mellow. That couple redefines low drama - they are both nice and functional and use their brains. It’s as if a nice jock and a nice nerd got together and then proceeded to be wholesome all over the place.

I mean, the set up could be dramatic - our ML the prince, lost his fight for the throne and is about to be killed. The only person who stayed loyal to him is his arranged husband the aristocrat guy who ML never treated nicely since he resented marrying him (marrying a man in that world is done to remove someone from the ability to inherit the throne.) And yet the husband stood by him not out of love but beliefs in loyalty blah blah. Anyway, he transmigrates back into the past right after their wedding night and is all “I got a second chance OMG! I don’t want the throne what is even the point? I want to live a good long life and treat the only person who stood by me really well!” And he proceeds to do so to the shock of the aristocrat who had a very unpleasant wedding night and generally can tell the man he just married would rather eat nails than be married to him. But soon enough (no seriously, it’s not many chapters at all) he believes the prince is sincere blah blah and then  they get together and they pretty much become cottagecore goals.

In terms of dramas, I only do period dramas (or novels) so I am not the person to be able to recommend any modern BLs. There is a flood of upcoming (hopefully) period BL dramas but it’s relatively thin on the ground now. The two I will recommend is Word of Honor (which is AMAZING) and Winter Begonia (which I just started watching but which owns me already.) I have a tag for both - the one for the former is huge and I cannot recommend either strongly enough. I’ve heard good things about The Sleuth of the Ming Dynasty, but I am not big on mysteries so haven’t watched it for myself.

In terms of the upcoming BLs, the ones I am most looking forward to are Immortality and Winner Is King, but The Society of the Four Leaves also looks promising.

[ereawrites]

Tim Drake x Reader - Envy

The first time he realises it's more than a stupid crush is mid-summer, sweat across the back of his neck, ice in his drink. Bruce has had a tough few weeks, and he's learning to surround himself with the people he cares about in times like these: besides, the weather is gorgeous, a rarity for Gotham, and so Bruce throws an extended family barbecue. 'Family' has always been a little tough to define, for Tim and for many others who share the Wayne name. Some - Dick, Jason, Damian, Cass - feel as though they could be his blood siblings, like they share more than a name and a vigilante identity and a proclivity for violence. Duke, Kon, and Jon have somehow become his annoying cousins who say, let me play the games on your phone, Tim, I know you get the unreleased ones, don't lie, but he loves them all the same.

It's when he sees you talking to Steph, the distant ex who he now considers one of his closest friends, that the depth of his feelings really hits him. You're in a swimsuit - he shouldn't stare, he shouldn't, it's summer and it's hot and it's perfectly normal for you to want to enjoy the pool while you're at the manor - with a cocktail in hand, golden sun catching in your hair, a warm smile lighting up your features, eyes crinkled up at the corners with laughter. Maybe Steph is telling an anecdote about the family; perhaps you're just enjoying this perfect day.

A giggle spills from your lips, shiny with the cherry-flavoured lip balm he knows you use, right as your gaze wanders across the pool and meets Tim's own. Although he's quick to react, transforming his face into a friendly smile and giving you a small wave, he has to fight back a blush from the shame of almost being caught staring. He isn't a creep. He isn't.

"Tim!", you exclaim, as he crosses around the pool and makes his way over to you and Steph. "I didn't know you could even come out in the sun! I hope you're wearing sunscreen."

Steph smirks. "You're all... milky. How long has it been since you left your computer screen?'

Tim feels your eyes drag down over his body, probably only because Steph's just pointed out how pale he is, but he's in a swimsuit too and he can feel your gaze burning hot on every inch of exposed skin. He huffs out a sarcastic laugh. "Funny, both of you. Duke attacked me with a bottle of SPF twenty minutes ago."

You and Steph dissolve into another fit of laughter: clearly the image of his assault is amusing to you. Tim would pretend to be more annoyed than he really is, maybe play it up a little to make you both feel bad, but he knows that you're only in a good mood. Why wouldn't you be? This is the first day you've had fully to yourself in weeks - he makes a point to stay updated on your activities, but he's not a creep, it's normal to take an interest - between your schoolwork and your internship. The hard work has paid off, though, and you've just graduated at the top of your class with a path straight into a major company. He can cut you some slack for now.

"Do either of you two know where I can find Damian?", Steph pipes up suddenly after a sip of her own drink. "I've gotta talk to him."

Tim exaggerates a disgusted tremble, which only earns him a playful slap from Steph and another little giggle from you. "Poor you. He's probably walking the dogs on the other side of the garden, or something - antisocial little shit."

"Damian, antisocial? I haven't heard from you in almost three weeks, Timothy Drake! You hypocrite!", Steph cries. Three weeks? He could've sworn it was only a week ago, at most; he FaceTimed her for a catch up, and she was talking about her crush on Kon's dad, and he'd explained he'd been busy because he'd been helping you write your thesis - but, wait, it hadn't even been the final section, so it must have been longer ago than he thought, because you submitted your final draft five days ago - shit.

Tim sighs. "Sorry, Steph. Actually, sorry to both of you. I... lost track of time, I guess?"

"I'll let you off this time, Drake-", Steph narrows her eyes at him, and tips back the last of her cocktail. "But you better repay me by having another drink ready for me when I come back."

She grins widely, and heads off to find Damian: God knows why she wants to talk to him when he's being so antisocial, but she's always had a way of drawing the young boy out of his shell. Tim chuckles under his breath, and turns to smile sheepishly at you.

"And you? What do I have to do to make you forgive me?", he offers. He's half-teasing, but there's a part of him that feels guilty. It's selfish. He knows it is; he's the one who finds himself wanting to spend so much time with you, not the other way around, and he sees you more than enough. You probably haven't even realised it's been four days since you last spoke to him.

You swirl the last dregs of your drinks thoughtfully, smiling at him - God, your smile is perfect, so soft and warm and kind - and then reach out to pat him on the shoulder. "I think I'm the one who owes you, you know."

Your touch lingers for just a fraction of a second and Tim is forced to suppress a shiver. "Meaning?'

"You've spent most of your free time for months helping me with schoolwork, Timmy! There's no way I would've been able to - actually, no, I would have managed fine without help - but you made it so much easier. I wish I could do more to thank you."

Tim waves away your gratitude with a small smile. "You've done plenty - besides, I enjoyed helping you."

"Why?", you grin, and the previous playfulness you'd exhibited with Steph is beginning to spark back up in your eyes. "Because my area of study interests you so much? Or is it just because I'm your favourite person?'

There are a million ways he could play this. This stupid, summer crush has been eating at him for weeks now, and Tim knows all too well that he's bad with emotions. He has no idea which course of action he should choose: flirt, or tease, or act aloof? Dick would dazzle you with a charming grin and a compliment - Jason would make a ridiculous, suggestive joke that somehow would be flirty instead of creepy - Damian (and Tim feels indescribable shame at the fact that his younger brother would be better at this than him) would brush the teasing off in a way that only drew you in.

"...Spending time with you isn't the worst thing in the world.", Tim settles on, and he mentally kicks himself as soon as the words leave his mouth. God, he isn't a creep, but he's stupid. So stupid. Almost as stupid as he is for developing a crush in the first place.

By some saving grace, your smile only widens. "So I am your favourite person?'

He needs another drink.

"You're in danger of losing that title.", he shrugs, and begins to head for the drinks table that Alfred so thoughtfully set up - you follow without question. "But, well, I wouldn't have spent all that time with you if, you know, I didn't like you. It was actually... kind of fun."

You fix yourself your own cocktail at the same time as him. It must be your favourite, since it's the same as the last one you were drinking, and Tim has to remind himself again that he's not a creep as he wonders how it would feel to kiss the taste of sweet alcohol off your lips. It's just a crush. He's going to get over it.

"Aww - I knew you loved me! Seriously, though - I did really enjoy spending that time with you. Even if you did spend half of it vibrating from caffeine overload, and the other half shouting at me for drinking caffeine myself.", you say.

He shrugs. "It's bad for you." Hypocrisy normally gets to Tim, but he can excuse the bad habit for himself. He can't help but worry about you.

The words that spill from your fruit-stained lips in response - teasing, as always, no more than that, stop it - and the glint in your eye and the little quirk of your mouth upwards; something about it just feels different and it makes his stomach lurch. "You're a bad influence, Timmy. I like it."

Fuck. He sips at his drink, too much vodka for his liking and too little ice, but oh well: he's got bigger things to worry about, like hiding how thickly he swallows. Like pretending he doesn't notice the faint sheen of sweat coating your collarbones, and the dip of your throat, spreading across your shoulders and down, down, dipping to your stomach - he pretends he doesn't notice. It's hot. You're warm. And a bit of sweat shouldn't get to him as much as it does.

"Every person here is a bad influence. You asked me for help, anyway. I'm starting to regret doing it.". That's a blatant lie and you both know it, but Tim doesn't know quite how to react other than with sarcasm. He feels like he's dancing with you every time he speaks to you, skating on paper-thin ice but loving the thrill - don't be so fucking dramatic, it's just a crush, stop it.

You roll your eyes and place your glass down onto the table. "I'm sorry. You're a fantastic influence, and you've made the last few months far more bearable. Thank you. I mean it."

And then you bring one hand to his shoulder, a feather-light touch that still sends him practically careening into ecstasy, and before Tim quite realises what's happening, you're pressing a friendly kiss to his left cheek.

You pull back with a smile. "I'll stop giving you shit for today, but only because I'm so grateful."

You just fucking kissed him. You were barely an inch away from his lips, close enough that he could almost smell your drink on your lips, and it was only a friendly gesture and he knows you do it with everyone and he knows it doesn't mean anything, to you, at least - but, to Tim, you've just punched right through his chest and grabbed his heart and squeezed, tight, snatched the breath right from his lungs and all rational thought from his brain; he wants, so badly, to lean forward and kiss you for real this time. He would, if he had the courage. He would, if he knew you felt the same way.

This is more than a stupid, summer crush.

Tim wants you to kiss him again. He wants to take your hand and parade you around the barbecue on his arm. He would lick the sweat off your fucking collarbones, if you would only let him. Maybe he is a creep. He doesn't care anymore.

Another sip of his drink. He's so fucked.

You don't notice the way his jaw tenses, or the way his breathing quickens; why would you? You're not looking for any kind of reaction, because, for you, it was just a kiss on the cheek, nothing more, nothing worthy of a revelation of his feelings.

"Oh, Tim - look, Kon's coming over!", you nudge him with your elbow, drink back in hand. Tim's too shellshocked to do anything other than follow your gaze, right over to where Kon's walking over to the two of you. He must have been in the pool with Jon and Dick, because his hair is wet and rivulets of water are running down his chest - Tim doesn't think he'll ever really get used to his best friend being so absolutely ripped. He hates it.

Kon fixes you with a beaming grin. "Hey, guys! What's with all the drinking? I though barbecues were for having fun and eating, not an alcohol club."

Tim forces a smirk: Kon will see right through him if he isn't careful, figure out what’s going on. The smile on your face, though, is wide and genuine, almost as big as Kon's.

"Says Aquaman over here.", you giggle. Kon shakes his head, flicking water at you, and you squeal and dash behind Tim.

Droplets of pool water land on Tim's face, filling his nose with the scent of chlorine instead of the scent of your drink, and he mourns the loss. "Careful, Kon. Chlorine can burn our skin right off. You wouldn't want to hurt us, right?"

The other male's eyes widen comically, and he mouths a seriously at Tim, concern evident in his gaze. Having a half-alien best friend has its drawbacks, but it's worth it for the tricks Tim gets to play.

You peek over Tim's shoulder and, upon determining that the coast is clear, step out and pout at him. "Don't tease - Kon, don't listen. He's stringing you along."

Tim scowls at you. "Fuck - you couldn't have played along for a few minutes? Seriously?"

Kon lets out a hearty chuckle, and out of nowhere he reaches his hand out towards you - for a moment, Tim just stares at it, wondering why his best friend is offering his hand to you. Then, you take it, that soft smile on your face, and Kon's pulling you into his chest and you're squeezing his hand and he's kissing you gently on the forehead.

"I knew I could rely on you.", Kon smiles, brushing a stray strand of hair away from your face. The penny begins to drop for Tim, but it's as if it's in slow motion - he sees the grand reveal coming, but he it doesn't quite sink in just yet.

You turn back to face Tim, keeping your fingers interlaced with Kon's so his arm wraps around your body and settles on your waist, pressing you into his side. "I - uh, sorry, Tim. Kon's still... getting the hang of how much PDA is acceptable."

Oh. Tim should have seen this coming. He should have noticed the signs; they all spring up in his mind now, the way Kon only ever seemed to blush around you, and the way Tim's noticed you checking Kon out during training a few times (he'd not thought much of it, you'd be blind not to), and the way both of you have been so suspiciously quiet about your love lives lately - maybe to protect his feelings, to make him feel like he's not the odd-one-out of the group, to avoid excluding him.

"It's fine,", he lies. "But, well - PDA? I didn't realise you two were... close like that."

Why is he torturing himself by asking for details?

You offer him an apologetic look. "I know you've been really busy, lately - you know, with work, and stuff. I thought it would be best to hold off on telling you about anything going on until you had less on your plate."

You don't say it with pity, like you know that he's been harbouring feelings for you: no, it's just friendly concern, knowing that he would want to know about your new crush and help you navigate it, because Tim is shit with his own feelings but he's got a penchant for helping others with their own.

"Thanks for being considerate. I wouldn't have minded helping you, you know.", Tim says. Another lie. It would have absolutely fucking killed him to help you, but at least he would have seen this coming. At least he could have prepared.

Kon squeezes you into his side, and then releases you so he can pour himself a drink. His bright blue eyes, kind and piercing, prompt Tim to speak again. "And, Kon - come on, buddy. Why didn't you say anything to me?"

Kon chuckles warmly. "I guess I didn't really realise what I was feeling, you know? I mean, I knew that it was different, but I didn't exactly know what it meant... or how to explain it."

Another piece of the puzzle falls into place. There's a domino effect in Tim's mind and right now he hates how intelligent he is, wishes he could turn it off for a second if only so that he would stop making deductions about this relationship that's sprung up right under his nose.

"You made the first move, then?", he asks, directed at you, and he can feel his smile starting to slip. There are beads of water on your waist in the wake of Kon's touch.

You let out a small, almost embarrassed laugh - Kon returns to your side, not touching you this time, but still standing in a way that makes it seem as though he's protecting you. "You could put it that way. I mean, nothing's official yet - no one even knows other than you and Steph and Jon, we're still figuring it out. We don't wanna make a big deal, you know?'

Tim doesn't know. He nods anyway. "I'm happy for you both."

The smile on his lips - vodka, ice, fruit - falters just a little too much and he knows Kon notices it. Bright blue eyes soften in worry, his mouth moves to ask if Tim's alright, but Tim just glances back at you; small smile on your lips, golden sun in your hair, happy.

"I'll have to go make sure that Bruce and Jason aren't in danger of blowing us all up in a gas explosion. I'll catch up with you two after.", Tim says, just before Kon can get any words out. He gestures aimlessly in the direction of the barbecue, and you and Kon nod in unison - together, a couple - and Tim throws back the last of his drink before he leaves.

He should be happy for you - he is, in a way, glad that Kon's found someone he can be vulnerable with and you've found someone who makes you happy. He should have been more convincing - he doesn't want either of you to worry. He should have seen this coming. Stupid, stupid, stupid. He should never have let himself start feeling anything for you in the first place.

Maybe, Tim thinks as he heads into the cool air of the manor and slips into a quiet room, closing the door behind him - maybe, if you hadn't have kissed him on the cheek, it would've been easier. He could've kept telling himself that this was just a stupid, summer crush, and it would've went away by the time the first snow fell in Gotham, and if worst came to worst he could've called Steph and distracted himself for a few nights. The thought of that, of touching anyone else, makes him feel sick now.

Tim runs his hands through his hair and tugs desperately at the ends. He has no idea how he's meant to come back out to the barbecue, watch Kon kiss the taste of sweet alcohol off your lips, think about Kon's hands on your body - he can't do this. He can't.

[chokefriends]

Anatomy model Eustass Kid

By @godims0tired ♡ for my fic Life Drawing

Rating: E

Warnings: None

Characters & ships: Eustass Kid / Trafalgar Law

Word count: 2978

Summary: Law practices his anatomical drawing with Kidd as his subject. With his devil fruit abilities he can see right inside him.

Kidd finds this insanely romantic.

~~~

Read on Ao3 or below the cut. I know it's an older fic by now but I havent posted it here before so here!

~~~

Kidd jerked into full awareness as he lay sprawled in his bed. He checked around himself without moving and sensed a second heartbeat in the room, near enough that the dim echoes of its electrical impulses lapped at his skin like waves. Slow and calm. Just watching then; not yet poised to attack…

There were eyes on him.

It took him a moment to remember that the other heartbeat was supposed to be there. He wasn't used to having bedmates stay overnight.

Red eyes slid open and found keen grey ones fixed on him.

“The fuck you staring at.”

“You, idiot.”

The big redheaded sprawl snorted crassly at that and flopped over, returning the stare with sleepy menace.

Law smirked. He was wedged sideways in one of the heavy carved armchairs in Kidd's quarters, loosely wrapped in a sheet and busily scritch scritching in a large book. His gaze flicked from page to Kidd and back.

Kidd prodded him, “See something you want, Trafalgar? Come over here and take it.”

His limbs were still all loose and languid from when they'd fucked a couple hours before, but Kidd could stand to go another round. Especially with the sharp, evaluating looks Law was throwing him right now.

“Come on, c'mere.”

“Later. Go back to sleep, Eustass-ya.” The pen bobbed.

“Don’ wanna. What are you doing still up?”

“Just passing the time until my brain decides to let me fall asleep.” Law's insomniac woes again.

“A good fuck will do that for you. Lemme do the ligature thing and you'll be out like bam .” Kidd offered generously.

“Heheh. Thanks but oxygen deprivation is not the kind of sleep aid I need.”

“Your loss.”

Kidd burrowed into his cluster of satiny pillows with a sigh. For an infamously brutal pirate captain he sure liked his little extravagances. The whole room was draped with horribly clashing bits of luxurious fabrics and furs, and the odd shiny sharp thing. The manic magpie whims of past raids.

“Nah, that's no good,” Law recrossed long legs over the chair’s arm, well cushioned with some spotted pelt. “Go back to where you were a second ago.”

“Are you…? What, taking notes on me? Writing an ode to the sinful curve of my flawless ass?”

“Something like that. I'm adding my own anatomical diagrams to this medical text. It’s my favourite for reference material but the illustrations are scanty and kinda shit -- it's like they've never dissected anyone before.”

“Nice. Add a diagram of these.” Kidd kicked up a leg.

“Hah. I'm nowhere near the section on genital abnormalities, but I'll look you up when I get there. Turn on your side again, I was doing upper body musculature.”

“Ooo. I got lots of that, yeah.” Kidd complied.

The lamplight was flickering low behind Law. Kidd could see him and his book backlit dimly, the small hairs on his leanly muscled shoulders aglow like a nimbus. Tinged subtly blue.

Wait, blue?

“Do you have a Room up?”

“Yeah, so I can scan down and see the actual anatomical stuff.”

“Huh. That's handy. You don't even have to dissect anyone.”

“Yeah but it’s easier to see everything if you physically open someone up. You can isolate the individual structures that way.” Law peeked overtop of the book. “And it's more fun to do it the old-fashioned way, heh…”

Kidd gave a low laugh. Law wasn't even joking, he knew. He imagined waking up one night like this, to find some part of him delicately splayed open and the dark haired doctor sketching away with the same expression. If Law used his devil fruit power he could do it painlessly and bloodlessly, without even waking him. Kidd had seen him sever heads away from bodies completely within that blue sphere, both pieces still functioning as one. He’d never been the subject of that eerie power himself, though.

He didn’t think so, anyway.

Law untangled himself from chair and sheet, and finally came over to join him on the bed. Kidd was gifted briefly with a full view of the lithe figure. His recent handiwork was beginning to show in the mottling that ran up either thigh and the bites framing his chest tattoos.

The long limbs refolded next to him. “Stay there, I wanna do the neck muscles now.”

“Lemme see that first.”

“Don't be grabby,” Law complained, but gave up the book.

“Holy fuck.” Kidd flipped through studies of his back, shoulders, hands. “So that's how I look without skin, huh.”

He had been expecting more… yeah. Skin.

“I did say I was drawing the muscles.”

“And my bones and everything.”

“Yeah. Good skeletal structure too. Several odd calluses where breaks didn't quite set right, though.”

“You can see all of that?”

“Yeah, of course. Like I said, I can scan down to any level. Though it helps if I know already the shape of what I'm looking for.”

Something about the drawings was just so Law. The lines so precise, so sharp, somehow impatient. A little obsessive and overworked on certain details, like the hollow between his collar bones and the knobbly crook of his index finger, broken at least twice. Many practice studies on loose sheets of paper showed that Law had been trying to get these parts just right.

It occurred to Kidd that these weren't just anatomical studies using him as a model -- these were him.

Jotted notes crowded around the practice studies, but Law grabbed the book back before Kidd could read them properly.

“Trafalgar. Does that seriously say I have 8.2 litres of blood in me.”

“Nevermind that. Just an interesting fact. You have a lot of blood.”

Kidd stole another peek as Law held him off. “And that I have a grip strength of 68 kilograms in my right hand?”

“At least. That’s not something I can see; that's from uh, experience.”

Kidd leaned back with his hands laced behind his head to look at Law. “One might misinterpret this as a target profile of some kind.” Because that's exactly what it was -- a detailed map of Kidd’s strongest, and weakest points.

“Whoa, your blood pressure’s spiking.” Law grinned with more teeth than usual and leaned in to hover over him.

“Now you're just showing off,” Kidd complained.

“Does this disturb you?”

That wasn't exactly the feeling that was spreading through him, no. Or not entirely, anyway. Kidd just cracked his neck, stretching it out for Law's benefit, and raised an eyebrow.

“So you wanted some neck action? It's all yours.”

Law seemed to like the sound of that. He angled Kidd’s head away and up with a gentle press of fingers, so the ear and neck were exposed to him.

Kidd watched his shadow flicker on the opposite wall and listened to the pen scratch across paper. The undulating magnetic field of Law’s heart was so close now, washing over him. His own blood thudded in his ears, senses all on high alert from holding himself in this vulnerable position.

He could be fuckin patient. Sometimes. Well… when he had all of Law’s attention focused on him like this, he’d stay still forever. He could feel the sharp eyes on him like a touch. His own eyes started to wander back over…

He jumped a little when Law did touch him, nudging him back into place. And then trailing fingers over the mound behind his ear.

“Sternocleidomastoid,” Law mouthed to himself. “Levator scapulae…” The hand travelled down to his collarbone and rested there lightly, his thumb tracing little circles.

It was so calm. And strange. Rare for the reserved doctor to be so casually intimate. Even while they were fucking, touch was more like a struggle, hands straining against and into each other. Kidd was rough without even trying, but it was Law who seemed to flinch from any contact not resembling combat. Or medical care. Such structured things. He’d objected -- vehemently -- to being “pawed at” and “pet like a lap dog” often enough. As though anything less than bruising force would hurt more.

He was so guarded. It made Kidd greedy.

“You're hard, you know,” Law breathed onto his neck.

“Yeah I'm aware.”

“Heh.”

Tattooed fingers ran along Kidd’s side, over the tight bands hugging the ribs (“Serratus anterior…”), and pinpricks rose in their wake. Kidd found himself arching up against the hand desperately.

“Ah, fuck, Trafalgar…”

“Mhm,” Law responded, distracted. Or pretending to be. He followed a particular cord of muscle down Kidd’s powerful thigh with his thumb. “Sartorius. Gracilis.”

“Dick.”

“No that's not a muscle, Eustass-ya.”

“Oh for the love of GOD.”

Law made a sound that was probably a muffled laugh. “Hold still. I'm doing anatomical studies.”

“Oh is that what we're doing.”

“Obviously.”

“Where's the book.”

“It's…” Law looked around for a minute. “On the floor.”

Kidd covered his face with his hands and just laughed. Law sighed dramatically.

“Well. Guess I gotta start from the top again.”

 

---

Law could be a pushy bastard when he topped. But he kept up the slow, focused treatment this time and it was driving Kidd fucking insane.

“I'm gonna flip this the fuck around and pound you inside out if it takes any longer.” Kidd growled from under his arm, slung across his face.

This was as close as he could get to actually asking for it. Here he was laid out, so open and ready, core clenching and unclenching. Needing to be fucked, to have hands on him, in him, whatever. All of it.

“Nah you're not.” Law countered smugly.

“F-uck,” was all Kidd could come up with when a third finger twisted into his slicked up hole. His body tensed and spasmed before yielding itself open.

By the time Law was actually fucking him, Kidd had nearly popped a fucking vein.

Law pushed in slowly, slowly. Until they were pressed together as tight as they could go, breath hot on each other's faces.

“Shit, Tr--ahh…”

“Eustass-ya…”

He was done with all the slow shit. Kidd was a shifting mass of need under him and honestly, he was even more worked up. He dragged almost all the way out only to grind back in hard, and the tight body jolted.

“Aw fuck, yeah…”

Law braced his weight on his arms, pressing Kidd’s hips into the bed. He watched the muscles bunch beneath him with each impact, Kidd straining to meet him. Watched through skin so pale it was translucent, glowing and rippling.

Kidd still wasn't entirely sure what to make of that gaze. All hunger and splitting seams, open lips and ragged breath.

He quirked up one corner of a mocking mouth.

“The fuck’re you-- ah --staring at?”

Law didn't answer for a moment. Under Kidd's skin it was like… layers of red ribbons, wrapping him up. The ribbons all pulling and straining against each other when Kidd moved (when Law moved in him), like something inside was trying to burst out. Under them, ribs curving -- jealous fingers. Wetly clinging membranes. Then under that…

“Your heart. It's…”

Their bodies collided, beaded with sweat. Harder. More. Law could see, hear Kidd's heart beating faster as he picked up his pace. God, he could feel it in his palms. In his dick. Beating so strong it echoed in his ears, drowning out his own.

“Fucking perfect. It's perfect.”

Kidd laughed breathlessly. His heart. What the hell. “...You wanna get your hands on that too?”

Law did.

He wanted to grip it, feel it flutter, make it burst …

… What if I could? he thought. He slowed, thinking, and spread a hand over Kidd’s breastbone. Not just to incapacitate through dismemberment, but to cut a piece from the whole, one vital piece…

Kidd watched the pensive eyes flicker and gave him a swift jab of encouragement with his heel.

“You'll just have to get hold of it the old fashioned way. Hahahaaa…”

“Hah.” Law shook himself from his distracted state. He picked up a pace that was slower than before, though not less jarring. “Like… I should court you or like I should cut you open?”

“Whichever ...ah ... But you should fuckin get me off first.” Kidd guided the tattooed hand down from his chest to his dripping cock, and Law obliged, finally.

They fucked with foreheads pressed together and grips slipping on sweat slick skin. Kidd thought of Law digging his hands right into his chest and came in jerking starts like it was being beaten out of him, legs clamped tight around him. Skin thrumming with the echoes of hands and heartbeat.

 

---

Kidd flipped through the last few drawings with some undefinable flutter in his gut.

“That's some shit you won't see in any other textbook.”

“Mhm.” Law allowed himself to press against Kidd just slightly as they lay sprawled out, sweat drying in the cool air. He was in a fuckin good mood, kinda dazed.

“I do look damn good without skin, I'll say that much.”

“Heh. And with. You can see the suprasternal notch really clearly even under the skin, it's nice. I fuckin love all of that. That area.”

Kidd choked a little but Law didn't seem to realize what he'd said. And that's not even what he meant anyway, Kidd told himself.

But the whole thing kinda was the same as a confession, at least as far as Law went. The drawings, as vaguely threatening as they were, betrayed an intimate preoccupation with Kidd's finer points. Maybe even admiration. Definitely possessiveness. Need.

“I wanna do you too.”

Law grinned, “Already?”

“Not that, idiot. Draw you.”

“I didn’t know you could draw.”

“Well, draft. I can draft things -- just basic. For engineering stuff on the ship, mostly.”

“Oh, nice!” Law bounced up to get fresh paper from the floor by the chair. “How does one usually draft stuff? Don’t you need a triangle thing? Compasses, etcetera?”

“Maybe. I’ll just make an outline for now.”

Law seemed right into this whole idea. “Draw me like one of your machines, Eustass-ya.” He draped himself dramatically across the bed and Kidd shoved him with a grin.

“How do you want me, though.”

Kidd appreciated that question for a moment.

“Doesn’t matter,” he shrugged. “I don’t know how to draw from life -- like perspective or anything. So it’s gonna be pretty diagrammatic. I just need a few details and some numbers.”

“Like specifications? How to build a Trafalgar?”

“Yeah, so I can make another if this one breaks.”

That made him laugh.

“Okay lie out flat and lemme measure you.”

“With what measuring tools?”

“I'll just eyeball it,” Kidd insisted.

This turned out to mean that he was going to get his hands all over him, which Law supposed was fair. He tensed and shied but stayed mostly still, letting Kidd explore his dimensions and proportions. Pages filled up with ratios and vectors of movement. Things got off track again around when Kidd was testing the rotation arc of his arms and quickly became vicious rutting. Light, skimming hands could become crushing ones so quickly.

Anyway, turned out that Law could get off while his arms were being hyperextended behind his back. Pretty effectively, in fact.

After, when they were laid out next to each other once again, and Law’s breaths were finally lengthening into sleep, Kidd dared to try another light touch. Without their thin pretense of functionality this time -- just want. He smoothed a hand over all the tattoos he'd taken such careful note of earlier. A large heart on his chest with a grinning skull similar to his Jolly Roger. Hearts on his shoulders. Kidd’s fingerprints blooming dark purple on his upper arms.

Sixty-eight kilograms of pressure and Law hadn't made a sound, but a feather touch over the marks and a quiet ah pushed past his lips.

“Whose emblem is that tattoo?”

Law mumbled with his eyes closed, “Someone who died. Long time ago.”

“Someone…” Kidd repeated to himself, but didn't probe. “You going to get any more?”

“Nah.” His breath stuttered slightly when Kidd trailed knuckles down his jaw. “I just like… your marks…”

He fell asleep with Kidd's lips against the shell of his ear.

 

---

A roll of broadsheet tied with string arrived by carrier gull when Law was back on his sub some days later. He stole away to his cluttered quarters and spread the roll out on the bed.

Inside the broadsheet was a large-format technical drawing.

There were three flat outlines of Law: front, back, side. All heavily marked out in blunt pencil, all surrounded by arcs and lines, dotted and solid, indicating measurements and angles of motion. The insides of the outlines were empty except for perfectly to scale renderings of his tattoos.

[hopetofantasy]

Culture, parallels & meta - S3 E1

Previous season Prologue: Vlogs (1) - Vlogs (2)

°

Zaterdag 21:43

The time lapse already showing us a string of places that will be important later, like the dark alley, the Meir with Noor’s workplace, the university neighborhood, the Scheldt river where the boys hang out, ...

Perfect parallel: 

The second season starts Zoë’s POV with a (washing machine) door, whilst the third opens with a door to a party that Robbe attends.

Robbe glances back at Noor passing through the shot this episode, an action he repeats when he spots Sander in the second episode. - A very subtle hint to where his love life may lead.

The first one starts with two unknown LGBT+ girls kissing at a party, the last episode shows two known LGBT+ boys (Sobbe) kissing at their own party.

The aerial shot through the floor to introduce us to Robbe’s POV here and the aerial shot through the roof to say goodbye to him in the last episode.

Moyo saying “No one would do you” to Aaron in this episode, Aaron realizing “No one here wants to do me!” in the last.

Where’s Wally? Noor greeting Marie, accompanied by Jana and Britt. Max dancing with Keisha in the crowd.

How ‘meta’ of you: Newsflash, yes you are!

Nod to the OG: 

The deliberate messy POV: following everyone that we know already and then slowly settling on the Isak version in a tub.

Robbe saying Noor looks like ‘Natalie Portman’, which is what people said to the OG Emma when they flirted with her. Everyone, except Isak, that is.

Oop, there it is, the homophobia / heteronormativity: Moyo keeps pressuring Robbe into explaining what type of girl he likes. The boys laugh it off when he answers that ‘he doesn’t have a type’.

Lost in translation: Moyo mocks Noor’s Dutch accent, making his ‘g’ and ‘st’ sound harsher, while also adding ‘hoor’ at the end - a typical word used by the Dutch to emphasize a point.

Blink-and-y’ll-miss-it: Jens is playing with the weed bag. Keisha is one of the girls that Moyo mentions as Jens’ ex-girlfriend or ex-fling. Not only did Noor nót flush the toilet, but she didn’t used any toilet paper either!

°

Zaterdag 22:44

C is for culture: 

Noor rescuing Robbe on her scooter - In Belgium, you’re allowed to drive a moped or scooter once you’ve reached the age of 16. Nothing is needed if the vehicle doesn’t go above 25 km/h. If it stays between the range of 25-45 km/h and max. 50 cc, you need to pass a theoretical exam, 4 hours of driver’s ed and a practical exam to get the license. Anything other than that, has a whole new set of restrictions, types of driver’s licenses and minimum ages.  Noor and Robbe are, however, still breaking the law. As long as you’re not 18, you’re not allowed to have an extra passenger with you. Especially if they’re not wearing a helmet. (Plus they ignored a red light. Those rebels!)

“You do know that you always have to have it with you?” - The Belgian law states that everyone above age twelve, has to get an ID to identify themselves. Some might have had a Kids-ID already - for travel purposes - but that’s not mandatory. However, once you're fifteen years old, you’re obligated to carry your ID with you at all times.

Perfect parallel:

Luca being all jealous whilst staring at Noor and Robbe making out in S3, her glaring at Maud and Robbe every chance she got in the last season.

Robbe and Noor having fun on the scooter while screaming and Robbe filming their adventure in this episode. Robbe and Sander doing a similar thing, but on their bikes in a later episode.

Wink to other remakes: Robbe sporting a brown jacket. (Eliott, anyone?)

Surprise bitch, guess who: It’s Willem Chanterie, the on-set costume designer and social media production assistant!

Blink-and-y’ll-miss-it: Noor has a ‘Fuck Trump’ sticker on her helmet. Robbe says “Hey, it’s red” in a very clear Antwerp accent. 

°

Zaterdag 23:11

Hello from the outside: The garbage truck they sprayed, still drove around the city regularly. The art piece itself is named ‘#Genoeg mama' (= ‘#Enough mommy’). It blames the consumer society as toxic, making young people its victim.

Oopsie: Inside the graffiti den, Noor suddenly sports a tote bag with supplies, even though we never saw her wearing that in the previous shots.

Blink-and-y’ll-miss-it: Noor has black combat boots. The photographer is obviously Sander, in case you have missed that subtle clue.

°

Zondag 13:41

Lost in translation/Oop, there it is, the homophobia / heteronormativity: 

“Check die pekie’s”. The word ‘pekie’ is actually Amsterdam slang for ‘beautiful girl, girlfriend’. In recent years, more and more Dutch slang are making their way into the Flemish dialect, because of the Dutch rap songs gaining popularity with the youngsters.

“Vamos, flikkers”. The word ‘flikkers’ can mean ‘wussie’ as well as a derogatory term for ‘homosexual’. Again establishing the fact that the boys use a lot of homophobic or toxic words for each other.

Robbe’s clumsiness meter: +1, him tossing the bag behind Jens instead of into his hands.

Blink-and-y’ll-miss-it: There is a football right next to the skateboards.

°

Maandag 16:04

C is for culture: “The whole art school was talking about it” - 

Secondary school is divided in four sections: general, technical, art and vocational. Which section you choose can have effect on further education. In one of these sections, you pick what you want to study from your first to last year (‘directions’). That means that you have some courses purely focused on the direction and others that are obligated for everyone, regardless.

Art high schoolers can choose to go to work or study a specialization afterwards. Their coursework isn’t solely art based, there are general required courses too. That’s why some foreigners - including the Dutch - come to Belgium, since they’ll get a more rounded and higher level of art education than in their countries. ‘de!KUNSTHUMANIORA’ is the high school in Antwerp Noor goes to and is known for having students with unique styles.

Perfect parallel: 

Noor waiting outside the school for Robbe and him reacting somewhat confused here, Sander doing the same and having an instantly happy Robbe in a later episode.

Robbe having no problem kissing a girl ‘as a straight guy’ in front of the gates in this episode and scared for what might happen if he kissed a boy ‘as a gay guy’ later on. 

Blink-and-y’ll-miss-it: The insta caption underneath the art work says ‘An inspirational message on a Sunday! Just discovered this in Antwerp city today. Artist unknown... Can you remember when you last called on your mother?’ (That last sentence, oooofff, the symbolism!)

°

Dinsdag 14:57

C is for culture: 

“Yes, mini enterprises are so chill.” - Mini enterprises are often used as a tool for Economics in the fifth/sixth year. The goal of these is to ‘learn whilst doing it’. Like the name specifies, mini enterprises are actual miniature companies set up by a group of students. During the school year, they’ll try to work together on commercializing a product. All aspects of entrepreneurship are at play here: writing a business plan, holding meetings, doing bookkeeping, marketing the product, produce and sell it, ... If the enterprise idea is good or well executed, it might even win a national prize by the company making this education formula.

“What if he contacts child protection services” - Actually, those services doesn’t really exist in Belgium. There are, however, other youth organizations for these types of things, like JAC - Youth Advice Centre, CLB - Centre for Student Guidance and the Centre for Mental Healthcare.

Perfect parallel: The boys hyping Aaron up to walk over to Amber and talk to her - yet he fails in this episode, them doing the same and he succeeds (after some fails) in the last episode. 

Oop, there it is, the homophobia / heteronormativity: Jens saying “Damn, seems like someone is on his fucking period”, after Robbe snaps at him due to the difficult telephone call with his dad.

Lost in translation: Jens saying “Mijn kop staat er niet naar” (= “My head’s not standing there”) can actually mean different things: I’m not in the mood, it’s not the right time, I don't want to do it, my head’s all over the place, ... It depends on the context, on which interpretation would suit the situation the best. 

Blink-and-y’ll-miss-it: The girls are all fawning all over Britt’s cellphone, so there is a good chance that they’re discussing (pictures of) her boyfriend, Sander. Also, Jana’s braces are gone! 

°

Donderdag 17:13

Perfect parallel: Robbe stating that he can’t talk to his dad or he’ll fight and Zoë getting that, as she said a similar thing to an understanding Senne about her parents in S2. 

How ‘meta’ of you: Ah, yes, fandom ship names in SKAM. We applaud!

Oopsie: If you look really hard, you see that the body type and hair of Robbe’s dad, doesn’t correspond with the version waiting at the restaurant later on.

Wink to other remakes: This shot reminding you of a certain S3 trailer?  👀

Blink-and-y’ll-miss-it: The numerous references to Zoënne’s relationship in their room (relationship pics, Senne’s guitar). The paper Milan gifts to Robbe is the written permission by his parent to live with them, as is obligated by law.

°

Vrijdag 20:04

Perfect parallel: 

Senne pulling Zoë up after a kiss here, just like with their first kiss in S2.

Robbe pushing Milan away after thinking he wanted to kiss him at the party in S2, them hugging it out in after talking about it in S3.

Blink-and-y’ll-miss-it: Zoë and Milan making some healthy party snacks like cauliflower and cocktail sauce, cheese with tomatoes and salami squares. She pulls back the bottle of gin that Milan wants to steal. Senne also bought paprika and tortilla chips from Colruyt (a discount store).

°

Vrijdag 20:54

C is for culture: “Noor, Robbe’s girlfriend” - (Teen) dating culture is different in Belgium. Usually, if you have kissed, hung out, texted or just said/did something to show your mutual interest, you’d pretty much consider yourself in a relationship. It can go from 0 to 100 very quick. Unless there is, of course, an agreement that what you’re doing is no such thing. Also, nobody really ask you to be their gf/bf. It just implied or stated to their family or friends. 

Perfect parallel: 

A reluctant Robbe pushing himself to do stuff to Noor (playful dancing, kissing, riling her up) as far as putting his hands on her bra here. A totally different, excited Robbe not even thinking twice about doing these things to Sander, even licking his nipple during their reunion.

Noor pushing Robbe on the bed and climbing over him, whilst Robbe looks all sad in this episode. Him pushing Sander on the bed and being happy as Sander crawls over him during their reunion.

Oop, there it is, the homophobia / heteronormativity: Robbe tries to convince himself into liking heterosexual sex with Noor and fake laughs with his friends about having it.

Where’s Wally? Keisha laughing with Amber and later dancing with Marie.

Blink-and-y’ll-miss-it: Jens is talking to Senne. The decorations behind Milan saying ‘Welkom Robbe’ (= ‘Welcome Robbe’). Noor has a beautiful tattoo of a pin-up girl covered with butterflies on her lower arm.

[aespawpaq]

Netflix and Chill (3)

IMAX and CLIMAX

summary; The occasional dark horse candidate among Barbie movie binges— Sunghoon gets weirdly horny and fucks you to the tune of a classic Barbie movie soundtrack. warnings; fingering, blowjobs, tit play, praise kink, standing sex, unprotected sex, reverse cowgirl kinda idk lol, daddy kink that morphs into i love u kink tags;  sh is an avid history channel viewer, sh hates Barbie movies ik we took an L today girls 😔, sh goes thru like 4 personality changes (commanding > soft > mean > in love), honestly idk what to tag it’s a mess, he’s still cheesy and romantic but also 👀 just read word count; 9.8k

Sunghoon sees it on display during your weekly Target trip. You know he won’t say anything because despite how long you’ve dated he still likes to pretend he’s the epitome of adult maturity. Yet the way his eyes linger over the electronics section, cart rolling to a stop in front of the massive screen, tells you all you need to know.

“Baby, the toilet paper is this way,” you sing, giving the front of the cart a gentle tug that pulls it and his thoughts away from the television that seems to hold reign over his interest.

“Ah,” he mumbles as he shakes himself out of whatever trance he was in. “Right.”

The Target trip ends rather uneventfully; you grab all the items you came for and make the executive decision of swapping Sunghoon’s tangerine bathroom soap with strawberry instead. Normally he’d put up a good fight, argue about the comfort that came with consistency, but today he says nothing. You chalk it up to that flatscreen that hypnotized him earlier.

“You wanted it,” you announce rather pointedly in the car. He’s backing out of the parking space now, one hand on the wheel the other pressed to the side of your seat. His jaw twitches as he tries to maneuver around a stray shopping cart someone didn’t return to the retrieval area. He’s wearing that dark jumper you like, with the high collar that covers all of last night’s bruises up wonderfully.

Sunghoon scoffs as he finally gets the two of you back onto the main road, Target and the flat screen left behind. “I didn’t,” he defends. “Just thought it was neat.”

You snort. “Neat. Okay, grandpa, did it tickle your pickle?” you tease, obnoxiously leaning over the center console to get all in his face. Sunghoon greets your proximity with a palm against your forehead.

“Please don’t ever say that again,” he laughs, pulling to a stop at the next red light. He turns to level you with an easygoing grin, sparkly anime girl eyes extra shiny under the red glow. “Only want you to tickle my pickle.”

You gag. “That’s actually disgusting.”

——

You graduate on a Saturday and your dorm stay expires on the Tuesday that follows. You spend the entire day shoving all your belongings into a variety of trash bags, from your weighted blanket to the collection candles you and Isa swore to light every night and never did. Speaking of Isa, she cries through the entire process. From the moment you take down the first wall decoration she’s in tears, and not even her mom, who’s come to help out, can quell her emotions. The girl cries and cries. She cries throughout the clean up, like she hadn’t spent the week before cursing the funky aircon system to hell and back. It’s probably the nostalgia that comes with leaving college, you assume. When Sunghoon picks you up around noon, even your eyes are glassy.

Sunghoon’s mom, who you only just met a few months ago, is over at his place when you arrive. You get along fairly well, in fact, you would even go as far as to claim you got along really well. You had first met her over this past spring break when Sunghoon invited you along to his family trip to some tropical island. The Jeons were lovely people. In fact, had Sunghoon not explicitly introduced them as his parents, you would’ve thought they were some sitcom actors carrying out the role of most in love, sophisticated lovers to ever exist. Yeah, they were super into each other, and you suppose it’s why Sunghoon is the way he is, loves as hard as he does. The only thing that broke their attention away from each other was the sight of their precious Sunghoonie bringing you to a family event.

It was hard to keep them entertained. Every second was spent worrying about your appearance, your demeanor, whether or not you looked like a devil beside their (your) angelic boy. It certainly didn’t help that Sunghoon was wearing that obnoxiously floral shirt at the restaurant you went to, the first three buttons undone almost lazily. It was a look your boyfriend rarely showed, always so meticulously dressed. Of course, he had that cute boyish style of his that consisted almost exclusively of baggy pants and designer tee’s a little too plain to cost as much as they did. But even those outfits had a specific Sunghoon rhythm to them— the darker tones always went with the pants that had twelve buckles on them; the long sleeves always went with the jeans. He was awfully particular about those kinds of self-set rules, and this jarring floral print did not fit any of them. It was too provocative, the black skinny jeans he’d paired with it too devious.

Maybe he knew what he was doing to you dressed so hot like this, but knowing Sunghoon, you doubt he did. His parents hadn’t batted a single lash his way, eyes laser focused on your every word as you stumbled through three plates and dessert. It was a battle you fought alone, and one you barely survived.

So despite you impressing his parents, she still gives you an odd look when you enter Sunghoon’s swanky townhouse with all your garbage bags of items. You promise her it’s just for the weekend, until your parents clean out your old room that they’ve filled to the brim with holiday decorations and miscellaneous objects. You’re not trying to take her baby chick out of the nest. (Yet.)

You watch TV for a couple hours, mostly her favorite soap operas on his 67 in. screen. It takes up a huge spot on the wall where it’s mounted, glossy black screen glaring back at you. Even his mom scolds him for such a huge screen, and you wonder how she’d feel about the absolute giant he ogled at the Target last week. Super angry, you think, and the image of her raging in flames while Sunghoon apologizes like the momma’s boy he is makes you giggle.

She leaves a little after sunset, kissing and hugging the both of you on the doorstep like she’s going off to war and will never return. She’ll be back by the weekend, desperate to check on her baby boy, but you let her have her moment. It’s weird seeing how dramatic the Jeons are compared to how reserved Sunghoon is.

You pounce on him the second she’s gone. He goes down with a muffled yelp against the sofa, hands grasping at your waist until you straddle him and begin going to town. Your fun lasts all of two minutes before the old lady novella Sunghoon’s mom had been watching cuts to commercials and a loud advertisement for irritable bowel syndrome medication begins playing.

“Oh, that is so not sexy,” you whine childishly, trying to roll your hips over him again. Sunghoon laughs, all low and sweet as he sits back up again.

“Give it a rest,” he says, shifting you until he’s got you hugged between those stupidly strong arms of his. His pecs feel strong and comforting beneath your cheek, and the feeling makes your tiny pouting session end earlier than usual. “Come on,” he mumbles as he manhandles you around, until your back is pressed against his chest and you’re sitting between his legs. “Let’s watch this film on Mesopotamian folklore and its overall significance to the nations it birthed after its downfall.”

——

You rarely use the key Sunghoon gifted you a few months back. The majority of your visits to Sunghoon’s house were either  the result of Sunghoon picking you up from somewhere and bringing you back, or Sunghoon inviting you over after dinner. In short, he was always with you when you arrived at his stoop.

Today you’re alone, juggling two boxes of takeout and some cheap wine in one hand as you fight to unlock his door. He hadn’t answered his phone, which leads you to believe he’s holed himself up again in that damn study. He likes to do that sometimes, lock himself away like some modern day Rapunzel until he finishes whatever project he has this time around. When he gets like this, it’s like all other body functions are forgotten, his brain zeroed in on the lines of code you barely understand.

Just as you suspect, the house is too dark when you finally break in. The hall light is off, which isn’t out of the norm, but so are the kitchen and living room lights. You pad down the hall, flicking on the light to the living room to set down your offerings onto the edge of the coffee table. There’s a scrambled pile of notes on top that seem too disorderly to disregard. You whirl around, making to head back out into the hall and down to the study, when you see it.

A good 90 inches mounted on his wall. It’s a monstrosity of a screen, devouring nearly the entire surface of the wall, from stainless end to stainless end. It’s ridiculously thin in the way all modern TVs are, but this one is even more so given the fact you hadn’t registered it in your peripheral when you walked in. It’s just barely short of a Jumbotron, the kind they have at baseball games to make sure you can see every nose hair on the pitcher.

His mom was going to kill him.

“ Sunghoon?” you call out slowly, inching back out into the hall with your gaze glued to the screen. Like maybe you’ve imagined this all and that isn’t the stupidly gigantic television screen Sunghoon had gawked at just a few weeks ago.

There’s a soft hum down the hall, the sound slipping beneath the bottom gap in the door frame. You make a beeline for the room, oddly unsettled with the huge screen. The door gives way, exposing your boyfriend’s hunched back and the blue light from his monitors that highlights his frame. “Hi, sweetie,” you begin, inching over to him.

“Hi,” he sighs, leaning back into your touch when you step behind him. His dark eyes are weary from staring at his tablet for too long, his usual tender expression melted into one of mild irritation. “Can’t figure this out,” he says, tapping his stylus against one line of absolute nerd gibberish you don’t bother trying to decipher. Maybe another day you would have entertained him, but today you cherish this moment with him knowing it might be his last before his mom comes over and kills him.

“Sounds like break time to me!” Your proclamation makes him frown, a frustrated groan pulling itself from his lips. His head droops forward again, chin touching his chest. But there’s a hint of relief in his groan that tells you all you need to know. “Baby needs a break,” you smile, pressing a peck against the back of his head.

“You’re baby,” he tries to fight, but his limbs are so pliant under your touch that it practically means nothing. “I’m the head honcho around here.”

“Uh huh,” you appease him, finally managing to tug all that muscled body out of his seat. “And apparently that means making dumb purchases.”

“What dumb purchases? Are you talking about the cactus again?” he asks, letting you guide him back down the hall.

“Yes, hoon, the cactus you haven’t watered in three months,” you drawl sarcastically, the sad plant sitting in the kitchen a reminder of both your incompetence. “Heeseung would hate you for that.”

Not amused by the insinuation of his favorite senpai being disappointed in him, Sunghoon goes to fight you on that. By then you’ve stopped at the entrance of the living room, glaring at the straight up theater screen that sits on the wall. “Oh.”

“Yeah, oh,” you mimic, flopping down on the ground beside the coffee table. Sunghoon doesn’t follow, choosing to sprawl himself over the couch instead. “What’s with the Jumbotron?”

He stretches his arms out, moaning something sinful at the way his bones pop. “It adds to the experience,” he says. “Movies are more enjoyable when the pictures are bigger; a tall aspect ratio and stadium seating really add to the experience.” He was such a nerd.

You snort. “The experience— Oh, I’m sorry. Didn’t know I was speaking to Mr. IMAX here.”

His cheeks flush a soft pink at your jab. “Don’t be mean,” he mumbles, tugging on your arm as he sits back up. You find your way onto his lap, neatly seated over one thigh like he’s the Santa Claus at the mall; not a single gray hair in sight but you’d still let him call you his hoe, hoe, hoe. Realizing there’s more important matters to attend to than Sunghoon’s Christmas ham, you shake those images away.

“Good thing I brought a movie,” you beam, gesturing to the pretty pink case resting over top the takeout bag.

Sunghoon doesn’t even spare it a single glance as he burrows into your neck. “What? No, we’re finishing the docuseries on—“

You groan loudly to muffle the rest of his sentence. “hoon, I don’t wanna watch another episode on Stonehenge being done by aliens,” you whine, picking up the movie case to brandish in his face.

It’s admittedly the wrong move when Sunghoon’s eyes roll themselves into another dimension. “Absolutely not,” he says. The case is quickly discarded off to the side as he attempts to distract you with a kiss against your cheek.

Too bad you’re evil and determined. “No! We are watching the Princess and the Pauper and that’s final,” you exclaim, scrambling for the movie before he can hurl it out the window. He catches you by the waist, your fingers just an inch away from the pink case. “Babe!” you cry, but his fingerprints are bruising their way into your skin.

“No more Barbie movies,” he begs, yanking you back onto his lap. He does so with so much force that it makes the two of you tumble to the side, your head bouncing on the cushions as he catches himself over you. “Please.”

“I hate you,” you fuss, pointedly ignoring the tiny mole beneath his lip that drove you crazy. “We’ve seen every single thing on the History Channel this week, but we can’t watch one Barbie movie?”

Sunghoon sighs, dropping his head down against your shoulder. He smells good and feels even better over you, but you’re not going to stop until the Princess and the Pauper is breaking in the new Jumbotron. “It’s weird,” he huffs, voice muffled against the fabric of your shirt. “Especially when we start getting… experimental, and I have to listen to Barbie sing in the background.”

“First of all, her name is Annaleise in this movie,” you correct, squirming beneath him to no avail. “Secondly, how do you think I feel when you’re eating me out while some old British dude narrates the creation of the Hanging Gardens of Babylon?”

Sunghoon scoffs, finally letting himself snuggle completely into you. “You don’t even realize it because you’re screaming the whole way through.” That earns him a sharp tug at his ear that has him sputtering apology after apology.

“It’s boring!” you feel the need to emphasize.

Sunghoon sits up with an uppity look on his face. “It’s not my fault you don’t appreciate the cinematography that comes from educational pieces,” he points out, rather presumptuously.

You shove him off of you. “I don’t care about cinnamon topography, just play the damn Barbie movie,” you hiss, swiping the movie case from the other end of the couch and pressing it to his chest. If words could hurt, yours definitely do. Sunghoon crumbles against the couch, childishly stomping one sock-clad foot against the ground as you gesture toward the movie player.

He doesn’t move, and you’re about to begin another tirade against his snobby movie critiquing habits when he procures a sleek, tiny remote that you would honestly mistake for an iPhone from a distance. It has, no joke, about seven buttons max, four of which are just the up and down, left and right arrows. You let out a low whistle at that. Wow. Technology sure was advancing.

The TV turns on to some minimalistic home page, tiny widgets showing every app it has; the bottom row is dedicated almost entirely to Sunghoon’s massive streaming service provider collection. After a moment of brewing in his feels, Sunghoon quietly announces, “it’s on Amazon Prime.” This is news to you, being able to watch a Barbie film on a streaming service and not the old disk you scratched when you were ten. Something distinctly carnal flashes in your chest when Sunghoon clicks through all the payment options without a care in the world. Oh, that was definitely going into your horny 3 am dreams.

Despite his earlier protests, you know Sunghoon will soon fall into his usual movie watching habits. He settles into the couch beside you. You cuddle up next to him, enveloping him with the grip of a killer octopus choking out its prey, except Sunghoon is usually the one doing the choking in this relationship. Still, it’s not close enough, and you throw your legs over his thigh. You’re practically sitting on him at this point.

You have no doubt the speakers on this thing are average; it was too thin to really pack any punch. However, that was the TV sans the Bluetooth speakers Sunghoon has installed all around his house.

(You swear when the android uprising finally begins, your boyfriend will be the first one out.)

The speakers really amplify the sound. The opening sequence has your bones rattling inside your body, the loud music of the selection screen reverberating through the entire living room. It reminds you of that pounding COMING SOON clip that used to play at the beginning of DVD’s back in the day. Sunghoon scrambles to lower the volume. “Sweetheart, you’re cutting off my circulation,” he wheezes afterwards.

“What? This is how we always watch movies,” you say with a frown.

“Yes, and I always end up with less oxygen than before.”

He doesn’t let you argue, which is good, because you could make a thirty five slide PowerPoint presentation on the advantages of watching movies like this. One, your boyfriend was warm. Two, your boyfriend smelt good. Three, your boyfriend’s ripped body awoke some ancient being inside of you that would not rest until his cock was halfway down your thro—

He hauls you into his lap. The angle forces you to let him go, instead met with the jarring nothingness of having his hot body ripped away. Meanwhile he gets to wrap you up in his arms, hold you like a teddy bear to his chest. “I hate this,” you huff, but the movie is already starting, the beautiful blonde Anneliese appearing on screen. You lean back against his chest, pout still evident. “This is ridiculous,” you snort, her face blown up on this jumbo screen.

“Shut up,” he says, settling in behind you. “Movie’s starting.”

Most Barbie movies you watch end up in one of two ways: either Sunghoon falls asleep twenty minutes in or he stays up until the end to critique every aspect of it. With the way he’d gone soft from your early battle, you’re guessing he was going to knock out before the Princess can even meet the Pauper.

As much as you hate to admit it, the huge screen does incite quite a thrill in you. There’s something so nostalgic about watching one of your favorite childhood movies on a screen this huge. The size showcases the sheer perfection that is every single Barbie movie. You lose yourself in the movie, singing along to the opening song and growing agitated when the antagonist appears.

Sunghoon says nothing, and you’re half convinced he’s taken his first preferred route and snoozed off, when his fingers twitch around your waist.

There it was.

The occasional dark horse candidate among Barbie movie binges— Sunghoon gets weirdly horny and fucks you to the tune of a classic Barbie movie soundtrack.

“Absolutely not,” you say, slapping a hand down over his before he can slip beneath the fabric of your shorts.

He lets out an indignant noise, a puff of air running along the side of your face. You ease his hands back over your stomach, taking extra care to knot your fingers with his. “We’re supposed to be breaking in your new screen,” you remind him, glancing up to catch his unimpressed expression.

He complains quietly, but he settles.

For all of twenty seconds.

“Oh my god,” you sigh, trying to act like the subtle rutting of his cock on your behind was a nuisance and not the luxury it is. “Babe, the jumbo screen… look at it.”

“Not even jumbo,” he murmurs against your ear, hot breath sending a shiver down your spine that has your toes curling. You fight to keep his hands still, but the muscles in his forearm tense, inked skin contracting as he slips them between your thighs. You suck in a sharp inhale, trying to maintain your immovable front. Sunghoon sees the fortress you’ve built around yourself in the name of watching The Princess and the Pauper, and spares you no mercy with his attack. His hands massage the skin of your thighs, tiny shorts doing absolutely nothing to save you from him. “Jumbo didn’t fit.”

The back of your mind registers the fact he was apparently trying to get a TV even bigger than this. You tuck it away for later to snitch to his mom. For now, you’d very much appreciate it if he could make you cum before the two girls perform the iconic “I Am a Girl Like You” song.

His hands are so smooth, soft skin tracing over your body like you were nothing but a slab of clay ready to be molded under his touch. He abandons your thighs to creep them under your shirt, where he wastes no time tugging the cups of your bra down to fondle your breasts.

Belatedly, your stupid tongue remembers to move. “I know something jumbo that fits,” you babble, rolling your head back against his shoulder. Sunghoon laughs at the utter stupidity of your sentence, and the aforementioned jumbo thing fattens against your ass, before brushing his lips against yours. The airy laughter, one of your favorite sounds in the world, is swallowed up by your greedy mouth. “Can fit in two places, actually,” you murmur when he pulls away.  His fingers massage the doughy skin of your boobs causing your back to arch slightly. “Wherever he wants it to.”

“Really,” Sunghoon teases, obviously entertained by your silly dirty talk. He’s grown used to your outlandish remarks in the past few months of your relationship.

You like to believe Sunghoon has fully accepted your occasional bouts of weirdness. He’s had the last few months to grow familiar with the inner workings of your mind, and even absorbed some of it into his own personality. Which is why he doesn’t seem the least bit bothered by you referring to his cock as jumbo, when there were admittedly more fitting words to describe it as.

(Thick, juicy, angry, demon cock, if he really wanted to know.)

“Where do you think it should go?” he asks, the low hum of his voice snapping you out or your thoughts. There was no need to daydream about a cock that was right in front of you. His hands slow their gentle caress over you, fingers closing in on your nipples.

A sharp hiss pulls itself from your throat, chest arching as he tugs and toys with your hardened nipples. “Wh-Wherever,” you pant, reaching your own hands down back between your thighs. The phantom of his palms linger, making your hands feel sorely inadequate. “Wherever Daddy wants,” you purr, swallowing harshly when he twists a nipple.

Sunghoon groans, resting his forehead against your shoulder. “Don’t,” he sighs, hands faltering over your breasts. Eventually they drift away, settling around your waist as you slip your fingers under the front of your bottoms.

“Why?” you laugh, pointer finger brushing along your clit. “Don’t like it when I call you that, Daddy?”

He lifts his head to watch you play with yourself. His hands grow tight around your waist, labored breath filling the air to harmonize with your breathy moans. You’re absolutely soaking your panties, sticky arousal making the fabric stick to your folds. “You know I do,” he murmurs, watching the outline of your knuckles through the fabric of your shorts. “Thought you wanted to play nice today.” He takes in a sharp inhale when you ease your finger into yourself, a breathy moan escaping from your lips.

You were already so wet, and you’re really not surprised this is how the two of you would break in his new IMAX, high definition flatscreen. Your pussy tightens around your finger, thigh muscles jumping at the intrusion. Fuck, you needed him so bad.

You smirk, drawing your hands out from their hiding spot. The television is the only thing lighting the room, the two of you shrouded in relative darkness. At first, your hand is shadowed by the glow of the screen, nothing more than an outline. But when you turn it just right, the light catches, highlighting the glistening skin of your fingers. It makes Sunghoon shudder.

Ever so slowly, you bring your fingers up to his face. The tip of your middle finger runs teasingly against his plump lower lip, his shaky exhales sending a cool breath over your knuckles. “Open, Daddy,” you encourage, watching with rapt attention as he envelopes your fingers between his lips. He sucks, tongue dancing between each digit to slurp off your juices. “Do I taste good? Do you like it?”

You know he loves it, but it never hurts to ask.

Between the two of you, you each had your own share of distinctive interests when it came to sex. Kinks, if you will. You adored the softer, vanilla aspects of sex— the languid makeouts, the slow rutting against his thigh, the whispered praise, the cute pet names. Meanwhile, despite his initially reserved exterior, Sunghoon preferred the other end of the spectrum. (You should’ve known from the get go!) He loved it fast and hard, so hard it would make you cry. He liked watching you squirm and beg for his cock while he pushed you to new heights. He liked the sticky, sweaty sex that left you feeling like a used rag beneath him, something you would have never expected given his neat and kind nature.

However, as with all things Sunghoon, you always came first. Sunghoon’s dream sex style was often pushed to the side in favor of pleasuring you. So quick and rough sex was more of a rare, once in a blue moon, type of luxury. Up until recently, sex had been mostly what you wanted. Either way you did things, Sunghoon was fine as long as he got to hold you close.

It was only a few weeks ago that you discovered your shared daddy kink, him obsessed with the idea of shoving you around, something he would otherwise never do. You, on the other hand, found a pleasant satisfaction from being good for him, a stark contrast from your usual sharp tongue and nonexistent filter.

You pull your fingers from his mouth, the sleek drip of your arousal replaced with his saliva. Sunghoon grunts as he hauls you further onto his lap, swollen cock nudging itself between your cheeks. “You know I love it, baby,” he growls against your ear. His hot breath fans over your skin, sending shivers down your spine. “Have you had your fun now?” he asks, tracing the pads of his fingers around your nipple teasingly.

“Mhm,” you moan. Sunghoon’s hands decide they’re done toying with your tits, drifting back down to their original target between your shorts. “Want Daddy to fuck me now.”

He places a kiss against the side of your neck, right over the vein that runs beneath the skin. Sunghoon kisses and nips down your skin, until his hair is tickling your collarbones as he sucks a hickey against the juncture between your neck and shoulder. “Is that the right way to ask for something?” he purrs, rubbing your cunt over your shorts.

It’s nowhere near as fulfilling as it would be without the garments. Nonetheless, it makes you ache for him, thighs quivering at the simple touch like you’re a bumbling virgin being touched for the first time. You’re nowhere near that, but every time with Sunghoon was exhilarating enough to the point it felt like it was.

“Pretty please,” you pant, covering his hand with yours.

Sunghoon rewards you with a fluttery kiss against your shoulder. “Good girl,” he hums. He finally gives you what you want, bypassing the fabric of your shorts and panties to dip his fingers between your folds. You gasp, hips jumping at the sudden brush of his hands along your quivering folds.

“Inside please,” you whimper, knees moving back and forth, only stopping when he helps you out of your bottoms. He places his free hand on one of them, stilling your writhing to fully focus on pleasing the burning fire inside of you. “ Sunghoon—“

A slap against your cunt that makes you squeal. “Ah ah,” he warns, voice a low tenor against your skin. If you focus hard enough, you can feel the faint brush of a smirk against your neck. “We’re playing a different game right now, pretty girl.”

On screen, your favorite childhood movie is bearing witness to the sinful acts at your boyfriend’s hands. It shouldn’t be surprising how easily you fall into his arms, onto his lap, especially with your history of movie watching with Sunghoon.

From your very first date you were enamored with him; the dip of his Cupid’s bow, so innocent and cute, embodied every single aspect of his personality. He was the sweetest, softest boy, one your brain could never conjure in a thousand years. Sunghoon’s level of care was hard to come by nowadays; he was a gentleman through and through.

These days he was growing out of that mature persona, and you like to think it’s thanks to you. Your wildness rubbed off on him, made him confident enough to geek out in public, or be adventurous in private. It helped nourish his impulsivity, which led to things like the Super Bowl Jumbotron watching you fuck now.

Despite knowing all this, knowing the way he is, the slow grind against your ass sends a thrill of arousal up your limbs, sensations converging just beneath your mound. “Yes, Daddy,” you mewl accordingly.

Pleased with your obedience, he rewards you by circling your throbbing clit with his thumb. It’s a terribly slow motion, pad of his finger easing over your engorged bud every other second. You wanted more, needed more. You squirm beneath him, attempting to push your clit against his palm. Your efforts are in vain when he clamps a hand down on your waist. “Sit still,” he growls.

You whimper. “Need more,” you rasp out. Your whole body is acting out now, shifting and turning as you try to wiggle closer. Your mouth brushes against his jawline. The sharp angle is the first thing your muddled thoughts focus on, lips hungrily latching onto his porcelain skin to suck a purple blossom onto it.

Any other day Sunghoon would bask in the attention, let you bruise his skin up until he was violet from love.

Today… well.

You were playing a different game.

The hand that had been exploring your nether regions suddenly snaps up, catching your chin between his fingers. The wetness that has coated his digits smears messily across your skin, and you whimper when he squishes your cheeks beneath his fingers.

“No ‘please’?” he huffs, turning your head to meet his eyes.

Dark chocolate eyes you’ve come to associate with love and adoration stare back at you unimpressed. His pronounced brow bone twitches, like he’s holding the true intensity of his glare back for your own sake. He slots his mouth against yours with no warning, tongue pushing its way past your lips. It’s messy, his tongue licking into your mouth like you’re nothing but a lollipop for him to suck on. It pulls a surprised moan from your lips that he swallows quickly enough, biting down on your lower lip harshly. When he pulls away, he’s got that same bored look on his face. You feel small under such a cold look, shoulders scrunching up damn near your ears in a subtle attempt to hide from him.

The action makes Sunghoon scoff as he leans away from you. He leaves you on his lap alone, like a tiny island desperate to join the main land. You shuffle around in a hurry, looping your arms around his neck in a last ditch effort to calm him down. It does nothing for Sunghoon, who only prods his tongue along his cheek as he regards you with a calculating gaze.

After a moment, he finally says, “on your knees.”

Your heart falls out of your chest. “Huh?” you whisper hoarsely, wide eyes taking in his unimpressed expression. “Knees? But Daddy,” you whine, lower lip quivering as you glance down at the hardwood floor.

Anywhere else you wouldn’t have minded. In fact, anywhere else you would’ve been on the floor before the sentence even left his mouth. You loved sucking his dick almost as much as he loved eating you out. However your knees were embarrassingly frail against hard flooring, which is why most blowjobs had been administered in the comfort of his bed or the couch. Sometimes on carpeted surfaces, but Sunghoon never pushed when he knew you would be aching the whole time.

Which is why his current demand has you standing stiff. “O-On the floor?” you murmur.

The stark truth was that Sunghoon had you terribly spoiled. His constant pampering had convinced you you were invincible. His love was practically handed to you on a silver plate, cloth napkin folded like a crane beside it. He had never made you do something you didn’t like, and he had never put you in an uncomfortable position, mentally or physically.

Until now.

Sunghoon gestures for the ground with a curt nod. “Is there a problem?” he inquires.

You look back again, eye the dark wood planks beneath you, glossed over enough to make them shine even in this weak light. “No,” you belatedly respond, slowly pushing yourself off his lap and onto your feet. Your big shirt falls back down, covers the tops of your thighs as you stand nude from the waist down. You’re tempted to just yank it down even more, hide beneath the cloth so he doesn’t have to see you whine and bitch about your knees aching.

Sunghoon was so cool. He was so suave and composed. He was the opposite of you, which is why the two of you meshed so well together. You’ve thought about it about ten times tonight, but it was true. Despite all that, there were times his mature exterior made you feel small— small and silly. Like now, with him sitting against the sofa, dark eyes tracing up your legs in amusement.

You sink to the ground, very pointedly avoiding his gaze. The wooden slats are cold and hard beneath your knees, your kneecap immediately screaming in discomfort. Sunghoon leans forward with his elbows on his knees, messy curls covering half of his face. “You know,” he hums, reaching out to trail his knuckles across your cheekbone. “I kinda like having you like this,” he admits, “below me like the good little girl you are.”

Your breath stutters as it leaves your lungs, fidgeting hands tugging at the front hem of your shirt in a feeble attempt to cover yourself up. Sunghoon smirks at the movement, eventually retracting his hand to give you one, condescending pat on the head.

A hearty sigh escapes his lips as he settles back onto the couch cushions. “Keep me entertained, will you?” You gawk, but you know it’s not a question. He reaches over for the remote to turn the volume up on the Barbie movie.

Your favorite song on the entire soundtrack is playing, almost mocking you as you shuffle closer to him. Two hands tentatively placed on his thighs as the two animated maidens flounce around the screen. He doesn’t bat a single lash your way, eyes focused on the huge screen behind you instead.

His sweatpants give away easily, elastic band snapping away from hips. You have to fight that and his boxers down, Sunghoon sitting like an immovable boulder in front of you. You barely manage to free his cock— the same jumbo cock you had referred to earlier —and it almost slaps you across the face from the force of its recoil. Your breath catches in your throat, a short-lived squeal as you flinch at the movement.

The sound causes him to look your way, over the bridge of his nose. “Do you mind?” he says scornfully. “I’m trying to watch a movie.”

“S-Sorry,” you stammer, quickly grasping his cock between your fist.

But apparently you’re doing everything wrong tonight. Sunghoon hisses. “Shit— would it kill you to lick it first? Like you’re trying to start a damn fire on my cock,” he mumbles, head lolling back to watch the screen again.

You move in slower this time, careful to lick your palm before trying to grab him. When you do, it’s even more delayed, fingers hesitantly tightening around his swollen member. You’re trying to gauge his reaction, worried eyes flickering up to him every few seconds. Sunghoon doesn’t object, craning his neck to the side to crack a joint there. With his clearance you carry on.

The strokes are slow at first, hand barely reaching over his tip like he likes. You’re weirdly anxious you’ll mess up for him, make him look at you with contempt. You suppose it’s because of the game you’re playing that you’re on edge. Usually, Sunghoon adheres to your rules, soft as they may be, and he never pushes where you don’t want. Tonight, it’s like you’re a show dog desperate to impress her owner. In short, you were his bitch.

You loved it.

As much as you wanted to be good for him, the mere thought of your normally sweet-hearted boyfriend glaring down at you does something to you, makes your pussy clench.

It’ll haunt you for weeks. The image of such unimpressed eyes leveled your way because you couldn’t handle his dick will stain the insides of your eyelids. Even though he’ll brush it off, kiss you and tell you it’s fine, the inner conceited hoe in you will never let it go, will recall the memory every time your hand is under your panties.

Still, you’re terribly desperate to impress him. He was your other half, your lover, your sweetheart, your goddamn king; he deserved only the best— not some half-assed, scaredy-cat blowjob that would leave him reeling back afterwards.

With that belief and a sticky blob of spit later, you’re pushing him into your throat. It’s the first reaction you get since he’d started feeling you up, a deep, raspy groan straight from the pits of hell, that has you working even harder to swallow his cock down. “That’s it,” he pants, carding his fingers through your hair. “Good girl.”

You positively mewl under the praise, tongue growing heavy in your mouth as you swallow more and more of him down. The hard tip of his cock pulses inside, rubbing against your palate and then your throat. A gag catches in your throat, one you quickly subdue by shifting your hips.

Fuck, he was so big. Just the feeling of his cock brashly rubbing against the corners of your lips has you fantasizing about how he’ll undoubtedly stretch your pussy apart later. You moan, letting your eyes flutter shut as you try to wave those images away.

When his cock hits the back of your throat, you’re ten chapters deep into an erotic novel all about sucking Sunghoon‘s dick. If your eyes weren’t already shut you’re certain they’d be at the back of your head anyway. It twitches against your tongue, one thick bead of precum sliding down your throat.

It seems to be the final straw for Sunghoon, who clamps a hand down on the back of your head, forcefully pulling you away only to shove you down again. With his grip in your hair, he really goes to town. You whimper at his brutal movements, his cock nudging the back of your throat with every harsh tug of your hair. The slippery, wet glide of his cock against your mouth fills the room with a lewd squelching that drowns out the movie.

Your pussy quivers with each new intrusion, thighs pressing together as if that will quell the searing ache between them. It doesn’t, and when Sunghoon finally bursts in your mouth, creamy cum splattering against your tongue and lips, it only grows.

“Fuck,” he growls, pushing you away as he sinks back into the cushions. His chest heaves beneath the material of his t-shirt, sweat dripping down from his hairline. Normally, you’d take this opportunity to crawl back onto his lap, lick and kiss away at his body while he recovered. But truthfully, you were both still new to this whole experience so there were still the occasional lulls between actions.

Sensing your uncertainty, Sunghoon tugs you onto his lap. He presses one soft kiss against your cheek, eyes momentarily losing their hard edge to assure you everything is fine. You give him a tiny nod, as if assuring him you’re okay. He presses his mouth to yours, plush lips soothing over your raw lips. It’s brief, the kiss; he guides you through it but switches back quickly. He pulls away and bites down harshly on the side of your neck. “So perfect for me, pretty girl,” he murmurs, soothing his bite over with a swipe of his tongue.

You dissolve into a mushy puddle on his lap, muscles growing weak from his touch. Sunghoon kisses down your neck, over your t-shirt clad chest, before he’s nudging you back down onto the cushions. With him looming over you, your body instinctively has you spreading your legs apart. His t-shirt comes up with one yank over his shoulders, sinewy muscles coming into view.

“Yum,” you whisper, hands reaching up to trail over his v-line. They’re quickly slapped away, a startled gasp pulled from your lips as Sunghoon takes your wrists in his hands.

One shapely brow is raised in your direction. “Did I say you could touch?” he murmurs, pinning your hands above your head. A gasp catches in your throat from his close proximity. You subconsciously tilt your head up, try to brush your mouth against his, only to be denied with a subtle turn of his face. “How do you want it, pretty?” he asks, releasing the tight grip around your wrists.

Immediately, you latch around his broad shoulders, fingers tracing over the muscles of his arms until they meet at the base of his neck. “However you want,” you purr, pulling him closer until your bodies are aligned, the warm heat of his frame over yours. You kiss the spot beneath his ear once before he trails his lips down.

Sunghoon mouths against your shoulder, lips tracing over the juncture where it meets your neck. “Hm,” he hums, taking a tiny sliver of skin between his teeth. “And if I said I wanted it hard?”

His proposal is followed by a slow roll of his hips against your throbbing core, the same dick you had just choked on gliding along your folds. You whimper, toes curling as the pleasure washes over you. Every ridge, ever vein of his hardened cock runs along your sensitive folds, reminding you of the aching flame inside of you. “Th-That’s fine,” you pant, leg lazily thrown over his hip. His hands trail over your waist, collecting your t-shirt as they move up your body until it’s pushed over the swell of your breasts.

When the material is finally discarded off to the side, leaving you in that flimsy bra Sunghoon that snaps off, he strikes again. His tongue laps over your collarbone first, pouty lips ghosting over the skin as he makes his way to your breast. He takes one hardened peak into his mouth, drawing a shaky inhale from you. He rolls it between his teeth, tongue flicking the sensitive nub as you squirm beneath him.

Eventually he pulls away with a wet pop. Sunghoon smirks, a soft puff of air fanning over your newly bruised skin. “Aren’t you the prettiest little thing.” He pushes away from you with one strong arm, looking down at you with an unreadable expression on his face. “Watch the movie,” he says.

You blink. “Huh?”

Before you know it, he’s tugging you back up onto your feet. He pushes you around, nearly sends you toppling over the coffee table as he positions you to his liking. “hoon!” you exclaim, palms slapping down against the glass tabletop in an effort to catch yourself. Just barely, your reflection glares back up at you.

A tap against your pussy startles you from the sight. “Wha—“

Two hands grab onto your biceps, tugging you up forcefully until your back arches, leaving you bent at a ninety degree angle before him. “Look, sweetheart,” he coos against your ear, voice deep enough that it vibrates through every bone in your body. Your breath stutters in your throat, exhilaration blossoming in your chest. “It’s your favorite movie.”

It is in fact your favorite movie, the same one you had fought tooth and nail just moments prior to watch. On screen, the two damsels are exploring new things in their lives, just how you were experiencing Sunghoon’s true intensity for the first time. “It is,” you quietly confirm, back aching from the position.

Sunghoon either doesn’t care about your depleting strength or really trusts in you not to faceplant onto his glass coffee table, palms sliding down to the crease of your elbows to hold you. “Tell me what it’s about,” he says

Just as the words leave his mouth, something hard and wet prods against your folds. “Oh,” you cry, fists tightening into balls as the feeling overwhelms you. “ Sunghoon, please.”

One elbow is let go, and the abrupt release has you scrambling to catch yourself, your glass reflection coming a little too close. This becomes even more difficult when a hand suddenly strikes down hard against your ass, a startled yelp escaping you. Just as quickly as you were released, Sunghoon wastes no time snatching your back up, yanking you back until your cunt runs along his cock again.

“C’mon, pretty, thought you knew better,” he sighs playfully.

“I’m sorry,” you whimper, chest heaving with every slow roll of his hips. Your pussy was sopping, desperate to be filled with something. It was even worse knowing his dick was right there, just inches outside of where you need him most. “I’m sorry, Daddy,” you repeat.

Sunghoon chuckles, and your heart backflips when he finally begins lining himself up. “It’s okay,” he assures you, in that same gentle tone he uses when you accidentally shove the wrong food down the sink disposal. “Baby’s still learning,” he says, pressing a chaste kiss against your shoulder as he begins pushing himself in. Just the head of his cock proves to be a struggle, swollen tip stretching your entrance wide. There’s an extra sting today from your half-hearted preparation, the both of you relying solely on your own arousal and excitement to let him in. It’s a nice kick.

When he finally pops past that initial tightness, you swear you could transcend into another dimension from the absolute feeling of euphoria that washes over you. “Fuck,” you mewl, fighting against his tight hold. Your efforts are in vain, ultimately choosing to drop your head down as the ecstasy continues to wash over you with each inch he offers you.

A warning squeeze around your wrist. “Language,” Sunghoon reprimands, though his voice is strained and light.

You nod mindlessly, toes curling against the wooden floor. “It-It feels so good,” you whine. Your knees wobble dangerously beneath you, until you’re swaying just the slightest bit.

He gives until there’s nothing left, the soft hairs around his dick tickling your lips as he reaches the hilt. “There we go,” he grunts, giving you one final tug to make sure this is as far as he can go. You squeal, the brush against your walls making you ridiculously high. “That’s my girl.”

The praise has your stomach tightening, the pretty images flashing across the screen completely lost on you. You felt so full. The two of you rarely did it like this, without looking at each other straight on, but there was something about Sunghoon’s looming figure being distorted by your brain’s memory, his touches wild and unpredictable, that made something inside of you twitch.

“Ohhh,” you whimper, muscles going slack for the briefest moment. The only thing that saves you from falling over is the killer grip on your forearms; when he tugs you up his cock runs along your pulsing walls. “Please, Daddy,” you beg, mouth feeling a thousand times heavier.

“The movie,” he repeats, slowly beginning to pull away from your clenching heat. You moan. “Tell me what it’s about,” he husks, punctuating his seemingly innocent statement with a harsh snap of his hips.

You wail, stumbling forward at the intensity. Still, it’s just a taste of what he has in store for you. He soon picks a pace, not too rushed or slow, as you struggle to keep your eyes open. “I-I don’t know,” you choke out, the images flashing across the gigantic screen practically unrecognizable to your muddled thoughts.

Behind you Sunghoon tuts at your incompetence, thrusting forward with an intensity that would have sent you flying if not for the grip he has on you. “You don’t know?” he huffs, tugging your elbows back again as if to secure his grip on you.

His hips are moving fast now, every piston into your warm heat making you tremble. “Fffuck,” you gasp, eyes rolling to the back of your head as he continues ramming his cock into your pulsing hole. You’re met with a harsh yank that pulls you snugly onto his cock, your entire body screaming at the way he nudges against your cervix. Despite the pleasure it gives you, Sunghoon seems anything but pleased.

“C’mon,” he huffs, twisting your arms painfully behind your back. “What did we say about that dirty mouth?” His question is followed with a snap of his hips that makes you choke on your spit. “Need you to be good for me, baby,” he groans.

“I-I am good,” you weakly defend, head hanging down limply as you fight to regain some semblance of your senses. But everything feels too much, from the rough push of his hips to the tight grip on your arms. His cock pulls out nearly all the way each time, swollen tip the only thing stopping him. Every thrust makes you quiver, every touch makes you melt.

You suppose he’d been too lenient on you up until now, and that final claim makes him snap. Sunghoon scoffs, ramming his dick inside of you. “You’re being fucking terrible right now, doll,” he admits, hammering into you like a crazed man. You sob, the coil in your belly tightening with every brutal shove of his cock. It’s something about the way his composure withers away, all sweetness melting off as he thrusts into your cunt. “I’ve asked you twice now what the damn movie was about, and you didn’t answer either time.”

A hand clamps around your throat suddenly, yanking you up right until his breath fans across your ear. You’re not sure when your eyes had become so teary, but the images flickering across the screen are a foggy mess you couldn’t decipher even if you tried. “__,” he rasps against your ear, his voice scratchy. “Tell me. Now.”

You whimper as he shoves his way back inside, the angry head of his cock testing you. “T-Two girls, one’s a princess,” you cry, knees wobbling as the feeling in your core grows. “They look alike, and-and…”

“And?” Sunghoon asks as you trail off, his words followed by a particularly brutal surge of his hips. His cock glides against your walls easily despite the way you clench around him.

“A-And they have problems they wanna avoid,” you stammer, the plot slipping in and out of your mind with every roll of his cock into your core. “So-so they swap places.”

Behind you, Sunghoon snorts. “What a stupid fucking movie,” he says meanly, before he begins to piston his cock into you. You’re trembling by now, your orgasm looming over your head with each thrust.

Before you can warn him, the thin string holding you together snaps, the sudden flood of relief making your knees buck dangerously. Sunghoon barely has enough time to catch you around the waist, holding you against him as a litany of curses and his name come spewing out of your mouth. “No, no,” you wail, your entire body twitching as the orgasm rolls over you. “hoon— Sunghoon!”

“I’ve got you,” he reassures you, fingers holding you tight around the waist. The coffee table you had feared cracking your skull on finally comes to use as you press your hands onto the surface in a feeble attempt to steady yourself.

“I’m sorry,” you whimper, faintly aware of the rock hard cock between your pulsing walls, probably drenched in your cum now. “I-I didn’t—“

He shushes you quickly, settling the two of you back onto the couch. Funnily enough, he doesn’t bother pulling you off of him, his dick snug inside your cunt as he seats you on his lap. “You’re alright, sweetheart,” he comforts, hands soothingly running up your sides. You want to protest, want to get back on your knees and give him another chance to cum all over your face, but Sunghoon nudges your chin with a knuckle. “Watch your movie,” he croons.

The Princess and the Pauper is literally the last thing on your mind right now; didn’t he realize how much you wanted to please him? Why was he choosing now to be so stubborn? Oh, that Park Sunghoon, maybe Isa was right to call him an airhead.

Your slander campaign against your boyfriend is cut short when a hand flutters over your mound, thumb idly tracing over your sensitive clit. Before you can turn and look at him, Sunghoon is rutting his hips against you slowly. “The screen, baby,” he says, and you want to argue that you can’t possibly enjoy a movie with him being so sneaky beneath you. The words get washed away when he presses down on your clit.

“Koo— Daddy,” you whine, lower lips still trembling from the orgasm you had two minutes ago. Sunghoon responds with a kiss against your shoulder, hands trailing around your waist.

“No more of that,” he mumbles as he begins bouncing you on his cock. You moan, every inhale cut short by the shallow thrusts of his cock into your delicate walls. “Just your hoon now.”

“My… hoon,” you pant dreamily. Your cum provides an even better lubricant than before, lewd squelches filling the area alongside your cries as Sunghoon chases both your second orgasms.

“Mhmm,” he groans, jostling you over his lap with no rhythm whatsoever. “Yours, baby.” You stretch your hands back, carding one set of fingers through the hair above his ear, pushing the strands away from his face. “Just like you’re mine.”

Something inside of you tightens painfully, and you’re not sure if it’s your heart or your pussy. You guess it’s both, as you stutter out, “y-your pretty girl?” Sunghoon hums in agreement, repeating your favorite nickname back to you. The rest of your words die out between the two of you, lost in the slow and soft movements that fill in. You want to tell him you love him, adore him like no other, but every breath of air is stolen away by him.

Eventually the two of your are cumming, your second orgasms much quieter and slower compared to your first. You still mewl, wither against him when you cream his cock, and Sunghoon catches you all the same. He guides you through the fog with kisses against your jaw, your dripping pussy helping him through his own.

When all is said and done and you’re both basking in a post-orgasmic make-out, you realize how sweaty and icky you are. “Ugh, this is gross,” you pout as he wiggles you off his lap. He pushes you beside him, letting you flop over the length of the couch as he reaches for something to clean you up with.

“You’re gross,” he retorts softly, blinking in that slow, drawn out way he does when you know he’s sleepy. His t-shirt runs along your neck, collecting the sweat there.

You nudge him with your foot. “I’m not the one who wanted to fuck during a Barbie movie,” you scoff, pinching the skin on his forearm when his gaze lingers a second too long on your creamy pussy. “Look somewhere else, weirdo.”

Sunghoon laughs quietly, looking at you with an adoring expression on his face. He doesn’t even finish cleaning you off, tossing the soiled shirt somewhere off to the side in favor of cuddling into you. “Where? My Jumbotron?” he teases, raining down a parade of kisses against your face. “Don’t wanna,” he smiles, too soft and boyish for the words that leave his lips next. “Wanna lick your pretty pussy clean.”

“Park Sunghoon,” you scold, covering your face with your palms in embarrassment. “Look at your stupid IMAX screen and leave me alone.”

He cackles loudly now, in that evil witch way it took him a while to show you, and you know he’s got that big silly grin on his face now. . “The IMAX screen? The same one that made you,” a pause, “climax?”

“Get off of me.”

——

Just as you predicted, Sunghoon’s mom gives him the scolding of a lifetime when she drops by the next weekend. The poor woman nearly faints at the theater screen on the wall, only to quickly regain herself. You giggle from your spot on the couch as she whacks his stupidly ripped bicep with the leek you’re supposed to chop up for dinner later.

What you’re not expecting is for her anger to shift to you as she scolds you for letting her idiotic son make such purchases. She gets one playful thwack against your side with the leek before your charming idiotic boyfriend swoops in to save you.

[dissoluteways]

positions

❧

Chapter I

PAIRING: Hyuk/OC RATING: PG  WARNINGS: Office AU.  WORDCOUNT: 5010

Notes: This is the enourmous fic I’ve been writing for MONTHS, and i am not joking. First of all: this is chaptered, it’s gonna probably be 4 chapters only. I’ve already written 99% of it, I’ll porbably be posting every chapter once a week or so, depending on how i feel. Second of all, there is no warning for this one, there is not even a kiss in this first chapter. And i guess the only warning would be that, this is boss/employee relationship? But everyone if over 20 here so. If it still bothers you, don’t read it. Now yes, go ahead and enjoy c:

❧

“Since you told me you were looking for a new assistant, I hope you don’t mind I told someone I know about the job.” Hakyeon told her, while he was visiting her office during lunch time. They would usually eat out, that day it was raining though.

“Oh, that’s cool, I don’t actually have that many applicants though, but I look forward to meeting him.”

Hakyeon smiled at her, while eating a cherry tomato.

Moments like that made it seem like being an editor in a magazine was easy. Hakyeon was a genius though; he was a manager in marketing and he was amazing at that, mainly because he was so social and charming. She could never do what he did. 

Her job, in the meantime, was being a beauty editor. When there wasn't a deadline or if there weren’t any kind of issues running around that day, it was certainly a dream job. The amount of products she got from PR and the events she could attend were ideal. It was tiring at times but she wouldn’t change it. She enjoyed the process of dolling herself up. 

But she really needed extra help. It has been a month without an assistant, and she finally understood why she even needed one in the first place.

“His name is Han Sanghyuk. Just be nice to him, okay, he has never worked in a magazine before,” Hakyeon informed her, taking back his things and getting ready to walk out to go back to his own office. 

It wasn’t going to be the first time she interviewed a young boy for the job.

Though actually meeting and interviewing people she didn’t know was boring if she was honest. They were mostly young girls with no prior jobs, but who were eager to work and get into fashion. They were cute, they reminded her a bit of herself when she was just starting. And there were a couple of people with actually impressive curriculums, some of which were even older than she was (it made her feel slightly uncomfortable that they would have to work for her).

She almost forgot Hakyeon told her someone he knew was going to be there for the job until she was about to save all the résumés and close the door, and she almost bumped into a boy just outside her office.

“Oh, sorry!” She had to stare up to actually see his face, and she couldn’t help but point out his height. “Wow, you’re really tall.”

“Thank you, I guess.” He seemed kind of awkward, and nervous.

“Are you here for the model job? That’s actually on the other side of the corridor.”

“No, I’m actually for the assistant job.” He handed her two pieces of paper. It was a really short curriculum.

“Oh… Oh, okay, come on in.”

She walked in before him, and looked at him when she sat down in her chair. He had the face of a baby, with cheeks she could pinch, and hair she could fluff. And she had the need of booping his nose. Her heart was actually jumping inside her chest. 

By the way he was frowning and looking at her curiously, she noticed she had been staring for maybe way too long. 

“Sorry, sorry… Can you tell me your name?”

“Han Sanghyuk.”

“Oh, you’re Hakyeon’s friend, right?”

“‘Friend’ would imply we are the same age,” He pointed out.

“Yeah, how old are you? Do you even have the right age to start working, it seems to me that you should be in high school. If it weren’t for how tall you are.”

“I’m almost 24,” He smiled at her. Her heart jumped once again. 

“You’re a baby,” She said without thinking. He started chuckling and she couldn’t help but smile. “Tell me about your previous jobs.”

“I had mostly summer jobs, at fast food restaurants, as a shop assistant, and as usher in local cinemas.” She must have pulled some kind of face, and she felt bad because he got nervous again and she noticed. “I know it’s not impressive, but I’m almost done with my university studies, and I’m eager to learn.”

“Well you’re the last person I’m interviewing, and I’m going to think about it before hiring anyone. I’ll let you know, alright?” She smiled at him reassuringly. 

He bowed slightly before standing up. His face might scream baby, but the rest of his body was big for sure, and he really seemed like a man. She tried not to stare at him once he walked out the door.

She had been set on the idea of hiring someone with experience, but she didn’t know then. Sanghyuk was just so cute and handsome. And it wasn’t part of the requirement for the job, but she couldn’t help it; it would be nice to have such a cute face waiting for her every time she arrived at her office.

And she even had to look at his picture every time she checked his resumé. Damn it. 

When it was time to leave for her place, she stopped by Hakyeon’s office, ready to talk about that issue with him. He was gay, he would understand.

“How could you not tell me Sanghyuk was so cute?” 

“Hello to you too,” He was closing his office, ready to leave as well, and he seemed a bit taken aback by her question. “What are you talking about?”

“Sanghyuk. You sent him to my office and didn’t tell me he was cute and tall and handsome. I wasn’t ready.” She knew she sounded way more stressed than she actually was. But had she been a few years younger, she would have definitely made a move on him. 

Hakyeon smiled at her in a knowing way, and she glared at him.

“When I bet with Taekwoon if you would like him or not, I didn’t expect to be right, but I guess I just made fifty bucks.”

She hit him on the shoulder not too hard, but strong enough to hurt him.

“I wanted someone with experience, but now I just want him,” She whined, walking alongside him to the main entrance. “What do I do?”

“Well, I know for a fact that Sanghyuk is really hardworking, I assure you he won’t blow it, he really wants to learn.” 

She sighed. At least that was something.

“But you can’t sleep with him, it wouldn’t look good that you’re sleeping with someone below you.”

“What if he’s on top?”

Hakyeon glared at her, and she grinned at her own clever choice of words. 

“How do you even know him, by the way? He’s five years younger than us.”

“You remember I give dance classes, right? He’s one of my students there.”

Interesting. He must have been bendy then. That was going to be a much harder choice to make.

She didn’t really want to overthink it too much. Sanghyuk was hardworking, Hakyeon said, and he wanted to learn and was almost done with his studies. Maybe this was his chance. Maybe he would be a great assistant. And she could also admire him from up close in the meantime. That was really just a plus.

When she called him back a couple of days later, she was, once again, taken aback by how cute he was. And how tall as well. She wore heels every day and still only reached his shoulder.

“So your job is mostly following me around and basically helping me with whatever I need for the magazine.” She explained to him after Sanghyuk had signed his contract, ready to start his first day. “I’m a beauty editor, so I deal with makeup products and creams and skin care. You have to help me with that.”

Sanghyuk was nodding enthusiastically to everything she was saying, and making sounds like he understood, with wide open eyes. 

“If you have any doubts you can ask me, since it’s your first time working for a magazine, I’ll try to help you.” She smiled at him soothingly. He returned the smile, and her heart melted in her chest. She wanted to pinch his cheeks. “We have to check the new PR products for the next edition, so let’s get going.”

Sanghyuk followed her without questions. 

“Oh, by the way,” She turned to Sanghyuk, who was walking right behind her. She blushed a little when he suddenly looked up at her face; his eyes were seriously a little more south than that before. “You’re supposed to write down the things we might need or the ones we might use from the products.”

“Oh, alright,” Sanghyuk took out his phone.

There was a serious generation gap if the last assistant she had still used notepads for those things.

When they got to the PR room, Sanghyuk actually made a cute surprised sound, she couldn’t help but giggle. 

“All this for makeup?” He asked her in a low voice.

“No,” She laughed, walking to the section where they got the new products, “This is also for skin care products.”

Sanghyuk wasn’t probably impressed by the difference, but he was going to learn while he was there.

Checking the PR products was fun if it wasn’t for the new guy that started sending them in. She didn’t remember his name, she didn’t care at all, mainly he has been asking her out for a while and it was annoying to say no every time. It was borderline harassment at that point. Out of all the gay guys out there that delivered beauty products, she had to get the one that was straight and annoying.

And there he was, unpacking brand new boxes right at the end of the room. She sighed loudly before approaching, Sanghyuk still right behind her.

“What’s new today?” She asked, very aware her voice was cold and detached.

“The usual brands send in the same stuff,” The delivery guy replied, dropping big boxes on the table by her side. “There’s a new makeup line from Revlon as well. But maybe we should talk more about that at night.”

She closed her eyes right after he had winked at her. Breathing in, she ignored his advance and checked the label on each box instead, trying to focus on what she was going to work with instead.

“Come on, for how long are you going to ignore me?”

“Sanghyuk, can you write down all the labels of these boxes?” She suddenly turned to him. His eyebrows were surprisingly furrowed, but he nodded immediately. She then turned and faced the delivery guy once again. “Please, I already said no. Every time you asked, actually.”

“I know girls like to play hard to get. And you’re quite the catch.” He smirked. She felt like puking.

“I’ll go check the skin care products.” She sighed, facing Sanghyuk. “Find me once you’re done.”

Walking away, she tried inhaling and exhaling to calm herself down. After months of the same routine, it was frustrating to have to deal with the same dumbass every week. 

“You have to write on a file all the products that we recorded today, then send it to me.” Once they were done with the PR unboxing and labelling, they went back to her office, as she explained to him what the rest of his day should be. “I might get a call from other departments today, like marketing, so you should pick up the phone every time.”

“Noted.” Sanghyuk agreed without question. 

She looked at him over her shoulder when they got to her office. He was writing everything down on his phone. It was adorable.

After a few days, Sanghyuk quickly adapted to working as an assistant. He was far more organized and mindful than she expected, she was happily surprised. At least she didn’t feel bad about hiring him just for his looks; turned out he’s an excellent worker. 

The only con of having him there, was still the fact that her crush on him hadn’t faded away. If anything, it grew bigger. His hard work and the way he applied himself to the task at hand only made him more attractive; suddenly he didn’t seem so young anymore. 

On monday morning, exactly a week after she hired him, she caught herself staring at him from her seat behind her desk. She could see him from there, his desk almost across from hers in the other room. If he were to lean back on his chair, she wouldn’t see him, but he was writing on the computer so she could easily stare at his face. She still had the need to boop his nose. 

That was the day they had to go again to check the new PR products. Sighing loudly, she got up and walked out.

“It’s PR day, let’s go, Sanghyuk.”

“Alright, boss.” 

He got the habit of calling her boss. It was cute; she loved it.

She was still dreading going to PR. Whenever she thought about it, it was still the reason she didn’t like going to work on mondays. It was taking a toll on her overall mental health, making her anxious and nervous. 

Trying to somehow conceal it, she breathed in deeply as she walked into the PR room, Sanghyuk still following right behind. 

“Hello, sugar.” It was the same delivery guy, and she felt sick when those words came out of his mouth.

“Please don’t call me that.” 

“Still saying no to my invitation?” 

He was smirking again, so she turned and faced Sanghyuk. It surprised her to see the look on his face, between annoyance and exasperation, his eyebrows once again furrowed. 

“Um, could you please write down all the stuff we got, Sanghyuk?” 

“Sure.” His expression softened a little, as he got out his phone and started taking pictures of the boxes’ label.

“Want to go out after this, darling?” The guy kept making advances; she really didn’t want to stand that in that moment.  

“I’ll wait for you outside.” She tapped Sanghyuk on the shoulder and walked away quickly.

It was incredibly frustrating having to deal with that. Especially because she loved her job. She had to deal with men her whole life; like every woman did, she knew that. It was upsetting there certainly wasn’t a way out of this.

While waiting for Sanghyuk, Hakyeon walked past, which helped her get her mind out of upsetting thoughts. 

“Hey!” He greeted, patting her shoulder. “How’s it going?”

“Fine.” She cleared her throat, just as Hakyeon looked inside the PR room.

“Shouldn’t you be in there, with Sanghyuk? Guiding him?” He sounded concerned.

“Yeah, I guess.” She looked inside as well. Sanghyuk was working hard as always, looking at the label of each box, and checking inside to see if everything was good. The delivery guy was still leaving some boxes on a table, and they seemed to be exchanging words. “It’s that guy again.”

“He keeps bothering you?” Hakyeon turned to her, worried. “I wish you would report him to Human Resources.”

“No, that’s such a mess. Besides, they would probably fire him if they decide to believe what I say about him.” She kept looking at Sanghyuk, not really wanting to face Hakyeon and his well-meaning concern. 

“Um…” He looked at Sanghyuk as well, following her gaze. “How is Sanghyuk doing?”

“He’s great!” The expression on her face must have changed drastically, she could tell by the look on Hakyeon’s own face. “He’s really good at learning, and so organized. I adore him.”

“I can tell. You look smitten with him.”

“I’m afraid so.”

“You know you can’t-”

“I know, Hakyeon!” She replied, irritated. It’s not like she was going to try anything. “Don’t worry, I’m not thinking about doing anything about it.”

“Hey, Hyogi!” Hakyeon smiled brightly once Sanghyuk approached the exit. 

“Hyung,” Sanghyuk looked embarrassed at the nickname, but still smiled softly. “What’s up?”

“She was telling me that you’re really hardworking. She likes you.”

She turned her head abruptly to glare at him. What the heck was he saying? What the heck was he going to say?

“Yeah…” Sanghyuk looked at her for a split second before turning his gaze back at Hakyeon. “Yeah, I really like it here.”

“Great!” Hakyeon smiled, knowingly. She wondered what was going through his head, wishing he would leave just in case he decided to say anything else. “I should get going now, I’ll see you at lunch.”

Hakyeon patted her shoulder again before walking away down the corridor. She sighed loudly, relieved. 

“I guess I’m doing a good job if you like me.” Sanghyuk commented, casually. 

“Yeah… Yeah, I mean… organizational skills are a turn on.” Those words came out of her mouth long before she could think about it, and she couldn’t help how hard she face-palmed herself. 

“Really?” He looked surprised, raising an eyebrow, while he looked down at her.

“Yeah. Let’s get going now.” She started walking immediately so as not to face him, knowing very well she was blushing.

She promised Hakyeon not to do anything about her crush on Sanghyuk, somehow that task was more difficult than she thought it was going to be as time went by. It was weird because she never really asked a guy out. But now that she wanted to, she shouldn’t. 

It was logical the company would have a policy against dating coworkers. It was to avoid harassment and any kind of abuse in power. But it was so hard to do it when Sanghyuk was just so cute and big. 

It was particularly bad for her heart when one day she walked into her office after lunch, to find Sanghyuk wearing one of those sleeveless shirts that were so cut anyone could see his chest. He was bent over, looking for something inside his sports bag, and a lot of skin was showing through. He was all sweaty as well; he had been working out and she couldn’t help but gasp loudly at the whole picture as soon as she saw him.

“Sorry, boss,” He apologized, quickly grabbing a hoodie. “I was going to take a shower and change before you got back from lunch.”

“It’s alright.” Her voice was small and breathless, and she was holding her hand to her chest like she was about to have a heart attack. 

“Are you feeling okay?” He asked, looking concerned, putting the hoodie aside as he got closer to her to check her out.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” She backed up, trying to put some distance. He looked confused, and she felt a little guilty for pulling away like that. “I just… I had a bad bagel for lunch.”

That seemed to be enough for him, since he nodded before grabbing his bag and his hoodie and leaving right after. She sighed loudly, covering her face. 

It was embarrassing stuff like that startled her since she was a grown woman, but Sanghyuk had that effect on her, apparently. And she had even seen him with that shirt. He was no longer that adorable, suddenly.

Sanghyuk, on the other hand, didn’t actually seem that interested in her. Other than the fact that sometimes she was wearing a too tight skirt, he looked at her a little longer than usual. But then again, even Hakyeon did that. So many men around her did that, it certainly didn’t mean anything to her. Somehow, that created a barrier that made her feel safer. She had to get over her crush, since obviously, nothing was going to happen between them.

“So you think he doesn’t like you?” Taekwoon, Hakyeon’s boyfriend, asked her one night. 

It was later that week, on friday. The three of them were having dinner after both her and Hakyeon left their work building. It’s been a while since she met up with both of them, and she really missed Taekwoon. 

“He probably likes me as his boss,” She replied, almost bored, leaning her head on one hand. She took a bite of the apple crumble she asked for dessert before elaborating. “He’s always nice to me, but then again he’s nice to everyone. I’m happy with just getting along with him.”

“But you’d like to get a piece of that.”

She almost choked with a piece of apple when those words left Taekwoon’s mouth. His expression was completely deadpan, made him look completely serious when he said that, but the absurdity of those words were kind of funny. Hakyeon was sitting right next to him, and he looked at him with wide eyes, as he tried not to even smile.

“Are you really asking me that?” She wiped her mouth carefully, at the same time trying to hide her blushing face.

“I guess we already know the answer then.” Said Hakyeon, casually.

“I don’t- I mean-” She pursed her lips. Her face was positively on fire. “Yeah, I would.”

“Do you want help?” Hakyeon asked, completely serious.

“Yeah, I’d like help ordering another apple crumble.” 

“No, dummy,” Hakyeon hit her gently on the arm. “Help with Hyogi.”

She blinked, until she realized what he was implying.

“No way. No fucking way.” She glared at him. 

There’s no way Cha Hakyeon was meddling into this. He wasn’t so subtle in any way. He might even spoil the good, professional relationship she had with Sanghyuk. 

“But I have good inside information, I could-”

“Don’t you fucking dare, Hakyeon!” She tried to keep her voice down, but certainly failed. “Didn’t you also say that he was my assistant and it was inappropriate?” 

“That was before you fell in love with him.” He said, matter-of-factly. “I thought maybe you just wanted to sleep with him.”

Her face flushed harder than before.

“And I figured, after your last experience with younger men, maybe you wouldn’t fall this time…” His voice was small, like he didn’t know if he should be commenting on that.

She bit her lip. It’s true, her previous relationship was with a younger man, only three years younger, but turned out he was mentally ten years younger. And she had a hard time with all his partying and going out with other girls. She didn’t want to compare though. She didn’t really know Sanghyuk that much.

“I still don’t want you to butt in on this.”

She knew Hakyeon was not going to pay any attention to her and still will try to somehow help her with Sanghyuk. She really wished he didn’t.

When she was walking home, she passed by a couple of opened bars and restaurants. Luckily she lived near the work building, around eight blocks, so she never had to take the subway or anything. That area was also around the nightlife district, so it was always full of bars and little clubs, open until early in the morning.

She wasn’t really expecting to run into Sanghyuk right there.

He was coming out of a bar, with his phone on his hand, and the same bag he carried when he went to work every day. And still wearing the same clothes he wore that day earlier.

“Sanghyuk!” 

He quickly turned, following the sound of her voice. He had to look down, and she almost blushed. The height difference was really one of her weaknesses. 

“Boss,” He smiled brightly. She could melt right there.

“You don’t have to call me that, we are not at work anymore.” She smiled back at him, genuinely.

“Alright, noona.” He grinned, youthful.

Oh, no. This was bad. 

“What are you doing here?” Sanghyuk asked, curious.

“I just had dinner with Hakyeon and his boyfriend.” She approached him a little more. The street was rather busy, and people were passing by in a rush. 

“You know Taekwoon-hyung?” He looked surprised, for some reason.

“Yeah, of course, I met them both in college.” She eyed him, trying hard not to make it look like she was actually checking him out. Which she was. “How do you know him?”

“He goes to Hakyeon-hyung’ studio sometimes. They are rather gross.”

“Gross?” She laughed. She knew what he meant but still wanted the information.

“Yeah, Taekwoon-hyung is kinda shy, but Hakyeon-hyung isn’t, so there's a lot of PDA.” He pulled a face full of disgust. It was incredibly funny. And cute. 

“Yeah, I know what you mean. I take it as a comedy show every time I get to watch them be around each other.” She giggled. Hakyeon was really overbearing, and somehow Taekwoon fell in love with him, when he’s the exact opposite. Though she noticed Taekwoon started taking the certain qualities that had nothing to do with him at the beginning, like the clinginess. It was endearing.

“Yeah, it’s fun to watch them.” Sanghyuk agreed, mimicking her giggle.

“So what are you doing here?” She asked, starry-eyed. 

“I work here.” He pointed to the bar he was just coming out from. “I only do it on Friday and Saturday nights though. Rather work at the magazine than here, to be honest.”

She tried not to sigh loudly. 

“That’s great, glad you like working with me.”

He flashed her a smile. She almost gasped. 

“Are you going somewhere?” He asked.

“Just home.” 

“By yourself? Are you taking the subway? Or the train?”

She blinked at the amount of questions he was suddenly asking. 

“No, I’m just walking there.” His eyebrows furrowed slightly, not the way he did it those last few times she saw him doing that, but just a little to make him look concerned. “It’s just some blocks away from here.”

“I’ll walk with you.” Sanghyuk looked completely serious. And she really liked that. But she wasn’t going to let him do something that was slightly inappropriate; she was his boss after all.

“It’s really okay, I walk home every night.”

He looked even more serious, if not pissed. She swallowed; she knew she was going to start blushing at any moment.

“I can walk you to your place, noona.” He wasn’t asking; it was a statement. 

She swallowed again before nodding.

She couldn’t say no. Not after that. She was only human after all, and with his face, completely serious and slightly annoyed at the fact that she walked home alone every time, she wouldn’t turn him down.

“So you have two jobs,” She commented, once they started walking in her direction. Sanghyuk followed along, right by her side. “Do you have time to study?”

“I use every free time I have left for studying.” He replied, while making way for both of them among the crowd.

It was friday night after all, but with Sanghyuk, he was so tall and big, people moved to the side in a second. She was amazed.

“I used to work all weekend as well, but I just want to focus on finishing my major now, so I just work friday and saturday nights.” 

“You never told me what you were majoring in.”

“Music.” He looked at her and smiled cheerfully. “I want to be a composer one day.”

Oh, that was cute again.

“You seem to be working hard for that,” She smiled back at him, sincerely. “I’m sure you are going to be a great composer.”

Sanghyuk beamed with complacency. Her heart skipped a beat.

Talking to him wasn’t any different than talking to Hakyeon or Taekwoon. She didn’t actually notice their age difference. He seemed mature for his age. Especially because of all the jobs he had and everything he studied, he didn’t seem the type of guy who went out to parties. He didn’t even seem to have time to have friends. 

He asked her about her life later on. Which was uneventful, she didn’t really have much to comment on. She sometimes hung out with Hakyeon, sometimes with other friends from high school. She hadn't had a date in almost two years. She refused to. But she didn’t tell him that. 

“This is where I live.” She signalled to the building that was across the street, about six blocks from where they met. 

“I’ll walk you there.” He said without any sign of doubt.

“Okay.” Sanghyuk wasn’t looking at her, only focusing on checking if any car was coming from either side, and she was glad because her face was flushing.

They crossed the street, walking a few feets until they reached the building’s entrance. She turned to face him; he was looking at the building, checking it out, with his mouth half-opened. The building was slightly fancy, it looked very well kept, and might as well be new. Her income allowed her to pay for it, and she was content.

“Thank you for walking me here, Sanghyuk.” She smiled at him and bowed slightly, as a thank you.

“It’s alright,” He returned her smile, bowing as well. “I’ll see you on monday, noona.”

“Can you text me when you get home?” She asked, genuinely worried.

He blinked at her, taken aback. He was big and certainly didn’t seem like a child, but she was still worried. She didn’t exactly know where he lived. 

“Sure.” He smiled once more, before waving and walking away, towards the same direction they came from.

She hid under the entrance, and watched him walk away. She couldn’t see past the driveway. Hopefully he lived nearby.

Around twenty minutes later, she got a text from Sanghyuk, telling her he got home safely, and saying he hoped to see her on monday. She sighed loudly, hoping to see him next week as well.

She told herself that night that it was really dumb to fall in love with her assistant; yet at the same time, she didn’t really care. She was letting herself fall, on purpose. It was probably the idea she had that maybe this guy wasn’t so bad. All her impressions of him were good. He didn’t seem to have anything bad going on. The only con was that he didn’t seem interested in a relationship. 

Decided to not overthinking it anymore, she tried to rest the weekend, and just let things flow.

[demonwifey]

ASK ASK ASK ASK BEETLEBOY GETS THE SNUGGLES HE DESERVES AND IS SOFT W READER WHO KINDA JUST HOLD HIM AND KISSES AWAY HIS INSECURITIES BC I KNOW IM SOFT FOR THIS MAN AND I WANNA SMOOCH HIM

Whew, so this took me a while to finish. The whole thing with the pandemic, police brutality, and I’m taking a 5 week summer class. It’s just been crazy. Thanks you guys so much for being patient while I hadn’t posted. I’m gonna try to post again sooner than later, so be on the look out for that. Hope you guys enjoy!💜🖤💚

Warning: Cursing, mentions of sex, slightly drunk reader

Word Count: 4,596

There was something wrong with Beetlejuice...besides the usual. Normally Beetlejuice was a firecracker that never fizzled out. His chaotic personality, among other things, is what you loved about him. He wasn’t normal like every other person you dated before, ignore the fact that he was literally a demon from hell. He was just better, in every way possible.

****

When you both first met, it was something you’d basically hoped for your whole life. You always had a thing for scary stuff. Horror movies, haunted houses, etc. Anything related to the supernatural, you wanted to know more about. You weren’t exactly sure why these things interested you so much, they just did. And, unfortunately for them, you always subjected your friends to joining you in any strange activity you participated in. 

You met Beetlejuice on your 25th birthday. Your friends asked you how you wanted to celebrate, hoping you would pick something ‘normal’. Maybe a club, a rooftop dinner, hell even mini golf sounded like a better plan then what you always had in mind. But you rejected their ideas, saying you wanted to go to the new haunted mansion attraction near your house. Your birthday was in October so all types of Halloween related attractions were coming to light. 

Of course, your friends all groaned at the idea, just wanting to not deal with anything scary for once. But they loved you nonetheless and just sucked it up like always. 

The day came for your haunted mansion adventures and you were too excited. When you all pulled up to the mansion, it looked like a regular house. The outside looked old and ratty but it didn’t look exactly terrifying. When you guys came up to the ticket booth, the hostess tried her best to sound scary. She talked in a low tone and sounded out her words as slowly as she could. Making it blatantly obvious that she was putting on an act. 

Once you all were inside, you were disappointed beyond belief. It was dark...and that was it. All the lights were turned off and there were black, what looked like, sheets hanging from the ceiling. There seemed to be a random strobe light sitting somewhere in the corner as flashes of black and white were hitting your eyes. So yeah, disappointed was definitely an understatement. 

Here you were, thinking you’d get the actual experience of a genuine haunted house but it turned out to be a cheap let down. Your friends were relieved though. They didn’t actually have to deal with anything too scary. Oh, well. They were convinced you wanted to leave at that point but you weren’t. They’d already bought tickets in so you all might as well stay. Plus, the house had three stories. Maybe you could find something interesting throughout this whole shitty thing. 

Knowing that you’d actually want to find something more scary, you told your friend you wanted to split up. They could take their time talking and staying on the main level. You decided to head up, trying to get to the attack. You could usually find interesting stuff in an attic. On your way up you were met with more and more corny attempts to be scary; random people jumping out at you, loud recorded screams coming from every direction, and having you walk through fake cobwebs as you made your way up. 

Finally you reached the top floor, but when you looked around there wasn’t any way to the attic. You were only met with a plain ceiling but decorated in cheap Halloween decorations. You were starting to feel bad that you made your friends spend money on tickets to the place. Well, you’ll probably just have to settle for dinner at a fancy restaurant like one of their other suggestions. 

Just as you turned to head back out of the empty bedroom you were in, the door slammed in front of you. ...Okay, you thought. Neat trick. You walked to the door to reopen it but just before your hand touched the doorknob, a small white card slid under the door. Your eyebrows furrowed as you reached to pick it up. The card read: 

Betelgeuse the Bio-Exorcist

Call: Betelgeuse, Betelgeuse, Betelgeuse

Speak My Name 3 Times

What the hell? Beetle-guise? Was this part of the tour? And why did that name look so familiar? You exited through the door but there was no one in sight. Shrugging your shoulders, you absentmindedly placed the card in your jacket pocket before heading down to meet back up with your friends. 

The night ended with you stumbling into your apartment, sober enough to make it home but drunk enough to stumble every few steps. If there was one thing your friends were good at, it was making sure you drank away your disappointment when things didn’t go your way. You plopped yourself down onto the couch, making a lackluster attempt to pull your shoes off. Feeling your head swim a little, that’s when you remembered that strange card you found. Being drunk always made your supernatural instincts kick in. Never forget the time you wrote a whole astronomy paper after your friends wanted to go out just before being flooded by work for finals. 

Wait...astronomy. You sat up on the couch, trying to rack your brain of why the name on the card sounded so familiar. That’s when it hit you. The name you remember your teacher going on about when you covered a section on stars, their brightness, and every other thing you barely cared about. 

Beetlejuice! Duh Y/N, you thought. The tenth brightest star in the night sky. You reached into your pocket, fumbling a little as you pulled the card out. Your vision was semi foggy but still clear enough to read the card. 

“Say my name 3 times.” You read to yourself. It was probably a bad idea, but hell. It was your birthday and you deserved to have some type of fun after the shitty let down from earlier. The liquor in your body finally pushed you forward to read out the name. 

“Beetlejuice...Beetlejuice...Beetlejuice!” You called out. Looking around your apartment, nothing had changed. 

You felt a few goosebumps and a slight chill cover your body but that was it. Probably just a mix of anticipation and the state of your drunken mind. You let out a small huff of air before getting up to head for your bedroom. Trying to steady yourself as you walked, you suddenly felt like you bumped into someone. Hold on, someone? You don’t have a roommate. You backed up a little bit before looking up to see a strange man standing in front of you. 

The man stood, wearing a black and white striped suit that looked so old and worn out, seeming as though it would need 200 washes before it was entirely clean. He looked so pale and had different spots of, what looked like, rotted mold on his face. To top it all off, the man had a bird’s nest of beaming green hair spiked in different on his head, his beard matching the same color. To put it lightly, he looked like a dead sleazy car salesman. And you found him...strangely attractive. Yeah, that had to be the 3 Fireball shots talking now.

“Well, helloooo, gorgeous!” A deep raspy voice came from the stranger in front of you. He eyed you up and down, looking at you as though you were his prey.  

“Uh, I-...uh.” You stammered with your words, trying to form a full sentence but failing completely. You took steps backwards as the strange man walked towards you. Panic started to hit you more and more, unsure of who this man was and what he was going to do to you. 

“I know, I know. I’m such a handsome and sexy piece of beefcake that you’re at a loss for words. I get that a lot.” He spoke while smirking at you. 

Well, he took some of the words right out of your mouth, that didn’t stop you from being terrified. Before you could get any further back, the man grabbed your arms and yanked you towards him. Without a second thought you began to use your fists to beat at his chest. You were just about to scream before he started laughing. 

“Oh, don’t be like that, babydoll. Here’s a little something to take the edge off.” The man spoke, just inches from your face. 

Before you could fully take in what he said, the man swung you around, both arms wrapped around your torso and waist. He dipped you down and planted a long deep kiss directly on your lips. Again, this was probably those shots talking, but you felt your head starting to swim again. Oddly enough, the kiss made you feel some type of way. Like you were actually enjoying it? Placing both of your hands on his chest, you deepened the kiss by pushing in more and ‘accidentally’ letting out a small sound that was close to a moan. All this despite the man’s lips tasting like actual graveyard dirt. 

You weren’t sure how long you two were like that, but what was probably a few seconds felt like hours to you. He finally stood you back up, his hands rested on your waist as you regained your footing. God, your head was running at 100 mph. You quickly made your way out the man’s grip before speaking again. 

“W-who the hell are you? And what are you doing in my apartment?” You demand. The mystery man only grinned before using his thumb to rub his bottom lip. 

“Mmm, is that cinnamon I taste? You just get sexier and sexier by the minute, babes!” The man laughed. Yeah, fuck Fireball shots ever again. You felt your face heat up but you stood your ground. 

“J-just get out or I’ll call the police! And I may not look like much, but I took karate for 5 years. I’ll fuck you up until they get here!” You practically screamed. It wasn’t a lie but you hadn’t actually practiced karate since you stopped going to class, which was when you were 13. The man laughed even harder at your attempts to seem tough. 

“Okay, dollface. If you’re gonna ‘fuck me up’ then what’d you call me here for?” He asked, gripping his stomach from laughing to hard. You blinked at him. 

“What?” You asked, starting to get frustrated with all the confusion. “What do you mean call you? I never called anyone. I don’t even know you.” 

“Don’t act too confused, babes. Your face is too adorable when you look like that. You got my card, right?” He asked. You made an even more confused face and he dropped his arms in half defeat. He turned to look around before picking up the card you dropped on the floor. He lifted it so you could see the front of it. “See, that’s me. The B-man himself.”

You didn’t really need to look at the card to remember what it said. You slowly started to feel the edge come off. 

“Beetlejuice? You’re Beetlejuice?” You asked, the tension leaving your body almost immediately. The demon man nodded with a grin before making the card in his hand disappear into tiny flames, pretty much confirming your question. 

“The one and only, babycakes. Mr. ‘Ghost with the Most’ right before your very beautiful eyes.” He replied, fixing his suit jacket confidently. Don’t ask why you felt so much more relaxed at the thought of a demon being in your home rather than a real life person. Within two seconds flat, your face went from confusion and fear to beaming joy. 

“Wait so, you’re a ghost? An actual ghost?” You asked, all too anxious to get every answer you’ve ever had in your head about the supernatural. Beetlejuice could see the excitement on your face. He chuckled before answering. 

“Yes, I am, hot stuff. But, you know my name,” Beetlejuice stepped more in your direction. With the panic actually cleared from your senses, you didn’t back up anymore. “I want to know yours.”  

“Uh, Y/N.” You spoke, feeling a little bit flustered under his gaze. 

The demon man gave you one last smirk before stretching his hand out to you. You gently set your hand in his. Beetlejuice guided you back over to the couch.    

“Well, Y/N. Tell me,” Beetlejuice spoke. He still held your hand while using the other to hold your chin. You just noticed the glowing golden color that filled his eyes. He used them to stare into your own, almost like he was locking you in a trance. 

“What are you dying to know?”

****

And ever since that day, Beetlejuice was all over you as much as you were on him. It started out as a simple flirtationship. Mostly having Beetlejuice come to tell you everything and anything you wanted to know about the Netherworld. 

With Betlejuice being the biggest flirt in the universe, you couldn’t escape his constant advances. Any time you two would talk, it would turn into nothing but crude sex jokes, pet names, and flirty touches that left you more flustered then you could bare. And you didn’t mind any of these things. You were actually fascinated by Beetlejuice and his presence as a demon that you didn’t care about his distasteful nature. 

That’s when it moved into your romantic relationship. Well, more of just a sexual relationship. Friends with benefits? Something along those lines. You didn’t exactly remember how it happened. The most you could think of was you two sitting on your couch, talking like normal. Next you knew, Beej was pushing some hair behind your ears, making you get lost in his eyes as he gained your attention. One moment you were apart, the next you were practically trying to swallow each other. Not long after did you get lost in each other's bodies as the air filled with sighs and moans.  

From there on, it was your regular routine. You would summon Beej on any random day. He’d go off some chaotic tangent about who knows what and you’d listen all too eagerly. After a while, whatever conversation you were having would somehow lead right into sex. And, you thought, the both of you were okay with it. But then you realized a weird shift in his behavior. For a while, your routine stayed the same but still a little off. Whenever you two would sleep together, Beej seemed as though he was overcompensating for something. 

Now, Beetlejuice was always cocky and overconfident but now it was almost like he was hiding something. During sex, it seemed like he was seeking your approval on everything. He started being rougher and wanting to please you in every way he could. You weren’t complaining per say, it was just noticeable. He wasn’t selfish during sex but he sure as hell wasn’t that considerate. And when you two weren’t having sex, he would constantly want to talk about you or do what you wanted to do. You didn’t understand why. You were a basic human like everyone else on the planet. Beetlejuice was a demon. You’d much rather want to talk about him but he wouldn’t budge.

The final straw came on a day when you two somehow got onto the topic of your ex’s. You usually didn’t talk about any of them unless it was with your friends, to which it was more of you all making fun of them. But Beetlejuice brought it up, asking how many men you’d been with before him. You only had 1 major boyfriend in high school and two in college. When you had got with Beetlejuice, you had just broken up with the 3rd ex a year before. And, somehow, that set Beetlejuice off. 

Suddenly his hair was a mix of red and yellow. His words were going at a mile a minute and his eyes were shining brighter than you’d ever seen. He was asking questions like “why did you break up”, “what was he like”, “did he do anything to you” and “how often did you guys have sex” You didn’t actually get to answer any of his questions but knew you had to stop him when you heard “did you love them” and “were any of them better than me”. You grabbed his face, trying to get him to relax and you softly told him to calm down. His cheeks felt like fire in your palms but you didn’t pull away. Beetlejuice huffed and puffed, trying to regain his sense as you cooed at him. After what seemed like 10 minutes, his hair switched to a dark blue and purple color mixed. With your hands still on his face, you noticed that he moved his hands upward to hold yours. Just as they were about to touch, he harshly pulled away. 

Beetlejuice jumped up from the couch before looking down at you. It broke your heart as you could see the clear sadness in his eyes. Just before you could reach up and say something, he disappeared. You heard him mumble “see you later, babes” right before he was gone. You looked at the spot he was in, too many thoughts running around in your head. Something was wrong with Beetlejuice, and you needed to figure out what. 

****

A week had passed after that whole incident and Beetlejuice wanted to act like it never happened. He popped back one day when you came home from work and didn’t even bring up his random spazzing moment. He knew you were going to try and bring up and immediately distracted you with a heated kiss. You didn’t really have a second to think as you both fell backwards on the couch. He deepened the kiss and slowly slipped his hand under your shirt. Well, he was gone for a week and you did miss him. All of him. You’d just have to find time to talk afterwards. 

~

Your room was hot now. All that sighing, grunting, and panting was making the air in your room very dense. You didn’t mind though. It truly was only worth it when Beetlejuice was the one making you feel good. You laid on your side, one arm draped on top of Beetlejuice’s chest. You had gotten used to the lack of movement because of his dead nature. He laid on his back, one arm under your head as the hand played in your hair. His other rested on the hand you had on his chest. Even with the room hot, you got a little bit of a cool sensation from his skin. Beetlejuice’s entire body was ice cold but in this moment, it was the perfect temperature for you. 

“Wow, that was amazing.” You huffed out, trying to steady your breathing. You felt him squeeze your hand. 

“You know I do my best, babes.” He spoke, trying to sound confident. Hearing the attempt in his voice made you remember your original plan. Although you were a little hesitant, unsure of how he would react, you still proceeded. 

“So, Beej,” You started. You subtly tighten your grip around him, hoping that he wouldn't leave once the words slipped out. “I think we should talk about last week.” 

You felt him stiffen in your grip. With your head on his chest you couldn’t see his facial expression. The uncomfortable silence that filled the air had you so far on the edge, you were practically ready to pull your hair out. You heard Beetlejuice swallow before he spoke again. 

“There’s nothing to talk about, Y/N.” His voice was so stern that it almost made you flinch. By his standards, the conversation would’ve been over. And you almost considered it when you saw the hair on his chest turning red. You propped yourself up on one arm, now looking down at him. 

“Actually there is. Look, I know you might not want to talk about it but I do. You’ve been acting really weird these last few weeks and whatever that was last week seemed to the boiling point. Just tell me what's wrong.” You spoke. 

Using the hand still on his chest, your thumb rubbed softly against his cold skin. Now that you got a full look at Beetlejuice’s face, it made you more worried than ever. First, his hair was a mix of bright red and royal blue. The look on his face showed utter anger. He turned his head to look at you and his eyes seemed to glow way more than usual. 

“Did I do something wrong?” He asked while sitting up. His voice sounded agitated.

“No, not exactly. You’ve just been...” You paused for a moment, trying to word your thoughts correctly. “You’ve been acting...really...” God, it was easier in your head but you couldn’t get the words out. 

“Annoying?” He interrupted your thoughts. Your head snapped up immediately.

“What? No! I mean you’ve been-”

“Bothering you?” He interrupted again. This time you could see the red fading away with streaks of blue taking over all of his locks. Great, exactly what you didn’t want to happen was happening. 

“No!” You used both of your hands to grab his face, making him look directly into your eyes. You were about to say something else before he beat you to it. 

“I’m nothing like your exes?” He huffed out. What? What was he talking about, you thought. His eyes looked away while you still stared. 

“I-where did that come from?” You asked. He still didn’t look at you, his hair now completely blue. You two sat like that for a moment. You didn’t want to push too hard and scare him away, so you waited. 

“It’s just...” He started. You could see he was hesitant. You moved your hands down to his own, squeezing them, showing him that you were willing to listen. “Look, babes. This whole thing we’ve got going on, you being a human and me being a demon. It’s not every day that happens and...it gets me thinking, y’know.” 

“Thinking about what?” You pushed, convincing him to continue. You felt him squeeze your hands, just like you did before. 

“You’re alive. You live an actual life. And you had a life before I came along and sometimes I think I don’t...fit in anywhere.” You were so shocked by his words that you couldn’t speak. With your silence, Beetlejuice added more. 

“I got mad because I started thinking about all the things you might’ve had with your exes. All the things you could relate to with them, and not me. It made me feel…” You could see what he was trying to say without actually wanting to say it. 

Jealous, envious, insecure even. But it didn’t make sense to you. You always knew Beetlejuice had a desire to be alive but you didn’t think it was this bad. Especially when you knew being alive wasn’t really worth the hype. You found everything Beej has told you about the afterlife to be WAY more interesting. But now was not the time for that. You took a second to think before speaking again. 

“Listen, B. You should never compare old relationships to a current one. They ended for a reason. Trying to ‘do better’ and stressing out over it is only gonna drive you crazier than you already are.” You grinned. Although he wasn’t looking at you, Beej matched your grin and chuckled at your comment. You continued. 

“All my exes are assholes that didn’t deserve me. Whatever happened with them is irrelevant. And you being a demon is just as much irrelevant. Being what you are doesn’t make you any less deserving to be here. You’re here because I want you here. I love-” You stopped yourself just in time. Beetlejuice blinked while you fumbled to come with a save for yourself. “-having you here. You know that.” 

You wanted to focus on making Beetlejuice feel better. Not confessing your strong feels that quickly turned to love just within a few months of him being around. You could only assume he didn’t catch your staggering as his face turned gentle while strands of pink appeared within the blue. 

“Really?” He asked, his scratchy voice appearing quiet. As if you would take it back when he questioned it. You smiled fondly, moving your hands back to his face. Although all of him was rough, you held his cheeks as if they were made of glass. 

“Yes.” You answered simply. The look on his face made your heart feel warm. “I can’t tell you how to feel, but I can tell you that I’m not gonna let your bad thoughts mess with what we have. Got it?” 

Any other day, Beetlejuice would’ve knocked down your dominant attitude with his harmless teasing, but he decided to let you have it. Giving you a wide grin, he nodded his head. Now that you’d gotten the response you wanted, you motioned him down so that you two could cuddle. Beej would never admit it, but he loved the intimate gesture. He loved holding you in his arms with the assurance that you would never leave. You two layed there for only five minutes before you noticed Beej’s uncomfortable squirming. You could tell he was trying to convince himself to say something else. 

“H-hey...uh, babes.” You heard him stammer behind you. You turned your head towards him slightly. 

“Yeah, B?” 

“Is, um, is it...y’know?” He stammered again. 

You didn’t want to interrupt him too quickly. So you touched one of the hands resting on your stomach, hoping it would calm him down. “Is it okay, if we...switch?” 

You already knew what he meant without needing any explanation. Despite his over-the-top nature, you always knew Beej had a soft side. There were plenty of times when smalle gestures like hand holding, leaning on his shoulder, or especially cuddling, that would make him lose his rough and tough demeanor. There were plenty of times when you would end up being the big spoon for Beej without realizing. Times when you fell asleep next to him, he would wiggle his way between your arms. When you woke up, he’d looked like he was on cloud nine. So this wasn’t really a surprise. It was surprising because he asked. 

Without giving him a vocal response, you turned all the way around. You gave a small smile before using your hands to turn him around as well. Once his back was towards you, your arms snaked their way around his stomach, mimicking the way he would always hold you. That’s when his hands moved on top of yours. 

“Thanks, doll.” He mumbled, trying to hide the genuine satisfied tone in his voice. 

You only responded with a kiss against his back. You would’ve laid your head down before feeling him shiver in your arms. Kissing his back again, you felt him loosen in your hold and let out a calmed sigh. There were times Beetlejuice made himself too easy to read. You spent almost the whole night pulling him harder into your grasp while also kissing him on his neck and back. There was no telling who enjoyed it more between you two. All you know is that when you woke up in the morning, you were back in your original position. Beetlejuice holding you, with no intentions of ever letting go.

Don’t ask me why this took me so long, but I hope you guys enjoyed. Thanks for reading and don’t forget that BLACK LIVES MATTER✊🏽✊🏾✊🏿

[historic-old-guard-lover]

How good is each old guard at maths and arithmetic and handling money ? ( Personally I think Yusuf is the best since he was a merchant from a society that heavily emphasized maths and science )

In an attempt to keep this post a reasonable length, I’m actually going to focus on key points in the history of money (and the required skills and concepts for its use). If you want me to overview the history of math like number patterns, numeral systems, geometry, etc., just submit a second ask!

TL;DR: Headcannons For Each Immortal’s Background with Money:

Lykon: has an amazing memory for debts, carries an bag of tally sticks and I.O.Us, uncanny ability to keep cowrie shells safe

Andy: wishes that literally wearing money hadn’t gone out of style but can begrudgingly appreciate how much easier coins made life, is very happy when someone else manages the finances (she was a god, they don’t pay) 

Quynh: likes to remind people that paper money was invented in the East (especially if she is from the very north of Vietnam which was part of the Song Empire), the quickest with numbers of the older members but can’t be trusted to hold onto the currency

Joe: designated banker of the group, picked up reading economics papers a few centuries ago for fun, knows the exchange rate of their destination even if he forgets where they’re going, definitely the one in charge of remembering which banks have their savings

Nicolo: got lazy after traveling with Joe for a while and just points to him when someone asks about money, 110% a gold-digger who spent all his wealth to come first crusade and then married a rich husband and 110% does not care when Nile calls him one, if you were insistent you’d realize that he’s picked up pieces of information from reading over Joe’s shoulder

Booker: pretty good at picking investments but makes sure to have Joe approve all of his major decisions, spent years as Joe’s apprentice and is now allowed to do most of the online banking so that Joe doesn’t have to, enjoys messing with people on the stock market (especially shorting stocks for famous companies - he’s in for the LONG run)

Nile: thought she was great at budgeting until she met everyone else, confuses and frustrates everyone by insisting that they should invest in bitcoin, gets overwhelmed when Joe and Booker lay out their financial system after she insists that she gets involved (she didn’t even know that there were that many banks!) and then never asks again

The underlying skills of managing money are nothing new to humanity. Humans have been keeping “count” for a long time. The oldest tool for documenting numbers and quantities is the “tally stick” which is exactly what it sounds like: a stick or bone that people kept track of things on. The oldest artifact found so far that archaeologists believe represents an attempt at recording numbers is the Lebombo bone which is between 44,200 and 43,000 years old. The current hypothesis is that tally sticks and similar tools helped keep track of money before the invention of writing (briefly discussed in this earlier post), but it is impossible to know for certain how the earliest money worked. This means that even the oldest members of the Old Guard who predate writing needed some experience with basic arithmetic and budgeting.

[ID: picture of the Lebombo bone showing the intentional tally marks.]

This brings us to the two broad categories for what money can represent: “money of account (debits and credits on ledgers) and money of exchange (tangible media of exchange made from clay, leather, paper, bamboo, metal, etc.)” as Wikipedia’s History of Money page explains. We’ve just covered “money of account” with the tally stick and writing. The “money of exchange” is also straightforward, a medium to convey the transfer of wealth. The value needs to be linked to something (redemption credit or inherent value), but this concept predates semi-precious metal coinage that most people picture. You can think redemption credits as early “I.O.U.” papers that would be traded around. The important part of “money of exchange” or currency is that it’s a physical object and not an abstract concept like “debt” that has no physical state (ie. you can’t own negative money). The currencies before coin-based money were livestock or agricultural products (or representative tokens) starting around  ~9000 - 6000 BCE and cowrie shells around 1200 BCE in China. Fun fact: cowrie shells are both the currency that was the most widely used and lasted the longest. You go, you funky little mollusks!

[ID: ~6 visible threads of cowrie shells labelled as “NATIVE SHELL MONEY” with the note “Sections of “cowries” thread on cane. New Ireland, Pacific. Presented by Mr. J. F. Cockerell”]

Not to be a smart-ass, but I think that Lykon, Andy, and Quynh deserve credit for the best money-handlers in the literal sense. Physically, a cowrie shell is much more breakable than a piece of copper. I can only imagine how many shells would get accidentally crushed when falling off a horse or throwing your bag to the ground. If you dropped it, it was gone. I could never do it. I can barely let someone else keep track of *digital money* I’ve never seen in bank accounts. That is the idea behind history of money in my opinion: it becomes more and more abstract. It has always required abstraction since it replaced the literal exchange of goods for goods (bartering), but the digital era makes it possible for someone to hypothetically never see government-issued money in order to participate in exchange. Back to the old folks of the Old Guard, they understand money but probably don’t care for the craziness of the banking industry because money to them was always very physical. You wore you money or hide it, but you never misplaced it because then you had no way of regaining it.

After the invention and standardization of coinage, which Yusuf and Nicolo benefit from, the next big innovation is the invention of paper money or the banknote. (Note: yes, I’m skipping a whole bunch of history, but feel free to scroll through images of medieval coins here. Once coins are invented, they just get changed so much, any time the ruler changes. They’re a good historical tool and help show cultural exchange, but kinda boring in terms of invention.) True paper money appears first in Song dynasty China in the 11th century CE. It’s considered different from previous forms of paper currency (aka I.O.U.s or promissory notes) because the government issued them and specified their redeemable value in coinage. It’s like they say, running out of copper is the mother of invention. With the expansion of the Mongol Empire (who I love and wrote about here), paper money started becoming a thing throughout the rest of Eurasia as part of a coinage exchange system around 1200 CE.

At this point, we’ve built up the basic system of money that will become the basis for Booker and Nile’s understanding of currency. You may think that they have a distinct advantage over things like banking and exchange rates, but you’ve overlooked the Islamic Golden Age (a classic blunder!). Using the caliphate’s gold dinar as a stable currency system, Muslim economists invented “credit,[90] cheques, promissory notes,[91] savings accounts, transactional accounts, loaning, trusts, exchange rates, the transfer of credit and debt,[92] and banking institutions for loans and deposits[92]” from the 7th to 12th centuries CE. As a merchant, Yusuf has been involved with banking his entire life and is probably the best at it. He might need a little help with technology because of e-trading and online banking (provided by either Booker or Nile), but he grew up with one of the earliest “modern” banking systems.

[ID: the two faces of a gold dinar issued during the reign of the Fatimid emir Al-Mu'izz li-Din Allah in Mansuriyah in 344 AH (955 CE).]

It’s no wonder that Europeans wanted to invade the Islamic Empire - I’d be jealous too! Nicolo can have some credit, too. The European middle ages saw the invention of “trade bills of exchange” which we can understand as multi-purpose notes which could both act like a traveler’s check (deposit somewhere, withdraw money elsewhere) or a loan (take one out, then pay it back later). Get the pun now? It’s an early multi-purpose credit system that was handy for trade. Nicolo wouldn’t have been totally helpless with money and understood the basic tenants of banking (like credit) if he has a wealthy background, but I think he would have been impressed with the Islamic Caliphate’s systems.

The next innovation in banking is the establishment of the “fractional-reserve system.” This wasn’t possible until the establishment of the first central bank (the Swedish Riksbank) in 1668. Prior to this, you were supposed to be able to go up to a bank, ask them their worth, and then see the actual money that gave them their value. This would sometimes cause bank failures because too many people requiring that you give them the sum of their account at once (called a bank run) would bankrupt a bank as they tried to collect on loans and stocks to get the cash. In comes fractional-reserve banking in which a centralized body like a national bank sets up rules on how much money a bank needs to keep physically on-hand for the loans it makes. These rules, backed by national assistance, allowed bankers to make loans and credit less risky; as long as they always kept say ten percent of all the money they were in charge of, the government would temporarily help them out if everyone wanted their money suddenly. This means that Booker is the first immortal born after the establishment of modern banking, characterized by international exchange, government-stabilized banking, and venture capitalism. As a forger, he clearly has experience with money.  Don’t be sad for Nile because there is one innovation that characterizes her lifetime: cryptocurrency.

[ID: an infographic summarizing how bitcoin works.]

Remember how I mentioned that money has become increasingly abstract? Cryptocurrency, starting with Bitcoin in 2008, is the total abstraction of wealth: it only exists as ledger entries. The entire system has no physical basis, not even a government guaranteeing that it has value. I grew up with Bitcoin and even I am confounded any time that I ponder it. Quite frankly, it proves to me that fiat money (money without inherent value, ie. a coin of gold versus a piece of green cotton that says $1) doesn’t make sense. Nile, who has been surrounded by modern computing for her entire life, is the one best suited to understand cryptocurrency and other digital banking systems. Andy feels like it might be dark magic, Joe is horrified, and Booker is torn between awe and terror.