#had enough of it maye

[achilleansapphic]

How to be less stressed and overthink everything please 😁👍🏻

[baldursgate3tempobsessed]

Ok, I’m a little confused on how to word this request so bear with me.

Would you be willing to write a short fic about Astarion and The Main Character, sharing a tent at camp because relationship, and the main character giving Astarion a massage because he got hurt in battle, but Astarion starts moaning too loud on purpose, and making the other people at the camp think they are having sex?

I realize how weird and specific this is, but I love the idea of Astarion being an absolute Ham, and making the others uncomfortable XD

(Bonus points if the Main Character plays along)

LOL. Yes, I am willing. CW: Actually not many? Allusions to sex I guess? Maye spoilers to be safe? Brief mention of sadboy back story? This is honestly pretty tame.

~

Astarion wasn't against adventuring. If anything he was a fan, especially when comparing it to his old life. But he was only a fan when it was him doing the bloodshed, not when he was the one being knocked around into walls by massive ogres.

It hadn't been the worst pain he'd ever felt, far from it. But it had been fairly intense. Intense enough for it to take multiple tries for him to get back on his feet. And to have you fawning over him.

"Are you sure you're okay?" You asked as the two of you entered the tent hours later, still hovering behind him, "Is there anything I can do?"

"I'm fine darling," Astarion sighed as he plopped down onto his bedroll, exhausted beyond belief, "Nothing that a good night's sleep can't fix."

The healing from Shadowheart had done wonders, even if his muscles were still screaming at him. He was sore yes, but it really was nothing dire. But that wouldn't stop you from fretting, a fact that Astarion was a fan of.

It was no secret that he liked it when you agonized over his well-being. At first he had been a bit offended at your constant worry, taking it as a lack of belief that he could take care of himself. But then he realized you just... cared. About him of all people. Deeply and intimately, in a way that Astarion had never known, but one he could certainly get used to.

"Want me to have a look?" You asked as you sat next to him, your hands already helping to do the work of taking his armor off, "Maybe a massage?"

"That would be perfect," Astarion sighed, more than happy to let you pamper him. He had been hoping that you would ask that. You did have talented hands, "Thank you darling."

After he was divested of his armor you had him lay on his stomach, his back bare as you straddled his legs. Then you got to work, kneading his sore flesh like a pro. Astarion could feel the tension seeping out of his muscles. You really were so good at this, just one more perk of accidently falling in love with you.

He was moaning before he even knew the sounds were out of his mouth. But he didn't give it much thought, not when he knew you didn't mind. If anything you liked hearing him feel so content, even if he could get a little loud.

"Tch."

Astarion blinked his eyes open at the sound. Was... was that a scoff he heard? Astarion strained his ears, listening out of curiosity as you worked wonders on his back. That was one benefit of being a spawn and elf hybrid, he had vastly superior hearing abilities.

"It's happening again," That was definitely Lae'Zel's voice, the gravely cadence instantly recognizable.

"Oh come on, it's not that bad!" He heard Halsin say quietly, only to be met by collective groaning, "Whiners, the lot of you. I would have expected better from you Karlach."

"All I'm saying is that they could pitch their tent a bit farther away, that's all!" She laughed back at him, "Can't a girl be a little jealous?"

"Or a little annoyed," Shadowheart grumbled.

"Or a lot," Gale agreed, grumbling in that very specific way that made Astarion want to slap the frown off of his face.

Astarion rolled his eyes, finding himself to be a bit annoyed as well. While it was true that the two of you could get... excited, you weren't that bad. And Astarion had made it a point to sneak you far away from camp when he really wanted to have his way with you. What more could they ask for? It just felt like envy at this point, an envy that Astarion was petty enough to resent.

"All I'm saying is if I lose one more wink of sleep because of those two, they're getting a piece of my mind," Gale continued, "I'm sure we all can agree on that."

Oh. Well in that case...

"You're so good at this my sweet," Astarion moaned loudly as you worked over a hard knot in his back, "The best I've ever had."

He could hear more groaning from the peanut gallery, but better yet he could hear the smile in your voice as you quietly answered, "I'm just happy it helps. You're so bruised sweetheart, I'm surprised you're still standing. Your pain tolerance is really something else."

That was unfortunately true, a natural consequence after decades and decades of torture. But at least it served him in his newfound freedom.

"Maybe I just like it when it hurts," Astarion groaned loudly, an obvious lie. Especially to your ears.

It was enough to have your hands pausing on him. You leaned in close, whispering a question in his ear, "Are you doing what I think you're doing?"

"Darling, I'll do anything you want me to do," Astarion murmured, hoping that the ridiculous line would get his point across. And it did, of course it did. No one understood him better than you.

Astarion glanced at you as you leaned back, pleased to see the telling smirk on your face as you got back to work.

"Do you like that baby? Should I go lower?" You asked loudly, biting your lip near the end to keep in a giggle, "Would you like that?"

"Please," Astarion moaned out, only half of the sound faked. You really were just that good at giving massages. And the show you were both putting on was having the desired effect.

"For the love of everything that is holy keep it down!" Gale yelled out into the night, doing nothing more than encouraging Astarion to get even louder, "Perfect darling, right there. Gods, I'm close."

"Mm, flip over. I wanna see your face during," You shot back. Astarion could hear it in your voice, that barely contained laughter. And he wasn't doing much better himself. If anything he was a little surprised the others hadn't caught on yet. Maybe even a little offended. The dirty talk you had together wasn't this bad, a fact that they would know if they had actually ever heard it.

But before Astarion could belt out his big finale, the flap of your tent was being pulled open, Gale's voice yelling into it, "For the love of Mystra would you two shut up- oh my gods. They aren't even naked!"

That was the end of the façade. The two of you burst out laughing, you falling down to Astarion's side as you erupted into a pair of giggling idiots.

Karlach joined Gale at the door to the tent, her voice cracking halfway through on a laugh, "I told you they were hamming it up! Wyll, you owe me ten silver!"

Gale was already turning back, a pout on his lips as he muttered, "You're both lucky it was fake. We were five seconds away from sending Lae'zel in to shut you up."

"The threats aren't going to help my desire to continue fucking with you in the future," Astarion called after him, wiping amused tears from his eyes as they both stepped away. You turned to face him, still giggling up a storm as Astarion wrapped an arm around your wasit.

He kissed your cheek, still grinning ear to ear, "I think it's safe to say that I feel much, much better now."

[meggannn]

hades 2 conversation dialogue my sister and i found interesting

SPOILERS obviously. my sister has been failing her runs on purpose to get more dialogue out of people. this post discusses dialogue that was not in the developer stream.

on hermes (mel and hecate are speaking about hermes and artemis at the start):

on melinoë, artemis, and the olympians:

on why mel is the only one who can kill chronos:

on hecate & mel's relationship:

on a secret order that mel is apart of:

on mel's job at the crossroads:

tension and secrets in the crossroads!!!!

when you give hypnos nectar:

(i wasn't fast enough to get his reply. hypnos says something like "zzzz... welcome to the.... zzzz"), then mel says:

other things i didnt screengrab:

hypnos: mel can remark to charon that hypnos is still asleep, charon says "arrghhh," and mel says "wait, he's of more use this way...?" possibly implying hypnos's sleep is not what it seems

nemesis: is uhhh kind of really mean!!!! she says something to mel along the lines of "you're upset you lost a family you don't remember? i KNEW my mom, all you did was be born"

moros: you can invite moros to the crossroads and he stands near the fated list far from everyone because nobody wants to talk to doom incarnate (odysseus in particular makes a point to say he'll stay away). iirc he introduces himself as "the bearer of bad news" which i find kind of clever but also a bit sad. if you give him nectar iirc he says nobody has given him a gift/offering before. aphrodite also notes that moros has made mel's acquaintance and calls him good-looking.

hephaestus: he criticizes your weapon's workmanship when you first meet him, then later takes it back and compliments it as very good, and says "just don't go spreading it around" to the olympians.

takeaways:

hermes is "missing" but he's on a mission for the war to find out what chronos is scheming

artemis (and hermes) didn't tell the olympians hecate has been raising a titan-killer (mel) and the olympians don't really believe she can do it but send her boons anyway, presumably figuring why not

only mel can enter the house of hades to challenge chronos, so that's why she needs to make this journey alone

hecate is rather sweet and mentorly with mel, but she gets exhausted and irritated when mel doubts herself. i didn't grab it but there's a bit where mel says if hecate had not held back, she knows she would've lost, and hecate snaps "you know?" asking mel why she puts limits on herself

mel, hecate, selene, and artemis are part of a secret order called the silver sisters that hermes also supports. olympus does not know about it. all these gods (save hermes) also have moon iconography in their designs

pretty sure moros will be romanceable. i think his and mel's interactions are very sweet, and aphrodite notes he's arrived and calls him good-looking, which reminded me of how she commented on thanatos to zag. no idea who might be a female romance option yet (i'm assuming there is one)

hephaestus boons are a lot of fun, per my sister

the big one: HECATE AND NEMESIS KNOW SOMETHING WE DON'T??? hecate maybe knew an attack was coming and didn't do anything?? nyx is also confirmed to basically be not around though we don't know where she is. and hecate is something called a handmaiden??? is she meant to serve nyx? it now seems like the children of nyx are meant to serve hecate, and eris isn't doing that, but nemesis is playing guard duty begrudgingly. so maybe nemesis thinks hecate let the house be captured/destroyed for her own ends, possibly also to get nyx out of the picture, so nyx's children would serve her(?). maye nyx is also a silver sister and hecate is now in command at the crossroads/on earth, second only to selene?

[prophetszendo]

How the birds fall (pt. 2)

Content warning: suicide

Pairing: Astarion/you (no use of y/n or pronouns)

Summary: this is an alternate ending to part 1. The difference? Just a few seconds.

Word count: 1.4k

Disclaimer: not a native speaker, feel free to point out mistakes or weird sentences.

Astarion layed on his stomach, his torso hanging over the cliff. With one hand, he was holding himself, and with the other, he was reaching down. And he was yelling your name repeatedly, as his hands opened and closed, hoping to feel a piece of clothing, or a hand be caught in it.

But he was just a blink too late.

Back in the night, he was laying awake in his bed. He felt hungry, started to starve, and desperately wanted to feed. Yet he didn’t approach you. He felt like it would have shown his weakness for you, just how much he depends on you. He felt he had been used enough in his life, and didn’t need you to do the same.

He heard you shuffle around in your tent, then leave it. He found nothing strange about it, people can have casual buiness in the night. He expected your return soon, and when the night stayed silent, a thought crossed his mind. Maybe, just maye, you knew it was long since he fed and now you were waiting for him in a more quiet, secluded area.

Astarion got a bit too excitied for his own good. He could definitely not stay still like this, so he also sneaked out into the moonlight. It reminded him of the old times, when he would only be able to be under the sky after the sun set. He quickly shook the memory off, and focused on you. Thanks to his darkvision, he clearly saw which path you took. He beileved he was able to smell you, especially your sweet sweet blood among the trees.

He felt like a hunter, going after his prey in the dark. He quite liked this game.

He followed your trail silently. His boots made no sound, he wanted to suprise you with his arrival. He felt your taste on his tongue already, and he wanted more and more.

He always wanted more.

He slowly reached you. He caught a glimpse of you sitting on a log. You had your back to him, and you didn’t notice him. He noticed that you were facing a cliff. Unusual place for a feast.

Astarion prepared to approach you, when he got the feeling that something was off. He observed you a bit closer, and noticed a few oddities. Your back was hunched way more than usual. On an average day, you carried yourself confidently, but now, you seemed much more fragile, and small. Your breathing was also irregular, which again, was very unlike you.

His first thought was thag you got lost, and something spooked you. Maybe some of the nightlife? He smirked, as he planned to go and save you, and then you would offer yourself to him, and he would get to bite you and finally feel a bit satisfied.

Before he could move, you stood up, and went ro the edge of the cliff. Your head was facing down, and your breathinf stabilized.

Astarion thought you seemed calm.

Then a horrible, horrible suspicion hit him. As you you lifted your arms, as if you wantes to hug the sky in front of you, Astarion shot out of hiding, and started running towards you. His arm raised in front of him, to grab you and pull you back.

As if it was in slow motion, you started to fall. His legs felt entirely way too heavy. Maybe if he wasn’t on the edge of starving, he would have been faster.

But now, he was just a breath too late. His fingers nearly touched you.

You never stopped falling.

And here he was, yelling, screaming your name, hoping that would cast featherfall on you, so you would be alright. He remembered this cliff, the team briefly saw it earlier, and it was endlessly deep. And you were falling into the abyss, even his night seeing gaze couldn’t pierce.

As you disappeared from his sight, he lied there, in complete shock. What just happened? Why would you knowingly jump down into the nothingness?

It must have been the tadpole – and idea raised in Astarions mind. It must have been taking you over, making you stuff you never wantes to. But you were strong minded, you would never let yourself be taken over like this.

A painful memory rose in him. And one more. And another one.

He had noticed your weird expression you had when you thought noone was looking. The glimmer in your eyes were gone and was replaced by dullness. Your smile, which normally seemed to be glued to you was also gone. As if you were a completely different person. Yet, only after a moment or two of him noticing this, your face would go back to the usual, and the fierce and strong leader would come back and solve every problem.

Astarion suddenly felt a tug on his mind and before he could do anything, feelings that weren’t his floded him.

After a second, he realized they were yours. Your last feelings. Just as fast as they came, they were gone.

And so were you.

Astarion cried out in pain. He rolled onto his back, and put his palm over his face, as he started sobbing uncontrollably.

Because it was his fault.

He never payed close attention on how the adveture was for you. He always let you make the hard decisions. No, that wasn’t the right wording. He always made you choose.

No wonder you felt pressured. The feelings he recieved were everything you felt on the edge. His throath narrowed, as he started to untangle, to understand you.

To understand why you would leave him like this.

He had no right to think this way. You were never his, no matter how much he wanted it to happen. He constantly self sabotaged, and denied himself the luxury to trust you and take an honest liking in you. Now, he understood what he denied you and it made him feel more like a monster.

You never made him feel like a monster. No matter what he did. Not even when he sneaked up on you to take a bite, not when you said horrible things, and not when he acted cold towards you on purpose.

You only felt hurt, but you never thought less of him.

He felt lost. Since he met you, he felt some sort of security in his life. You accepted him for who he was, like noone did before. You cared about him, and did anything he asked.

And Astarion never thanked you, or showed anything sincere for it. Now he will never be able to, and regret was taking him over. He took you granted, like how he was taken granted in his past.

He was so taken over by self pity, and how horrible he was, that he failed to see further than himself. If he said a few nice words to you after seeing you so broken, maybe you would be sleeping in your tent now, and not somewhere out of his reach.

If he told you just how much he needed you, maybe now you would be sitting next to him, telling him about your day, sharing the hardships of the trip, and maybe some plans for the future.

He never even asked what you wanted to do after this was over, he realized. This thought caused another set of loud sobs and tears to appear. How could he have been so selfish?

All he ever wanted is to have a future with you. Because with you, he could see further than tomorrow. Maybe a sweet little home in Baldur’s Gate.

Only if he said it out loud.

Only if he told you just how much you are on his mind. How much he wishes to hold you, to caress you, to kiss youm

Only if he told you how much he loved you.

This thought kept swirling in his mind, he couldn’t get rid of it. He sat up, and inched closer to the cliff. He kept his distance, as in his mind he saw you fall again and again. But he looked down, as much as he could.

„I’m... So sorry. I loved... I love you.”

His voice cracked, and he just sat there, crying his aching heart out.

[lovelybeesthings]

Quick like a bunny Ch 2

Coriolanus Snow x reader

Warnings: none I think

Word count: 1.8k

Ch 1 & 3

Mansion

Why did he have to say such hurtful things all I’m trying to do is to care for him is that not enough? What does Lucy Grey have that I don’t she's a poor tribute form that distracts 12 from what he's doing he can end up killed or hanged! *I cry into my pillows as I try to find a way to release my feelings and emotions as tears find a way to escape from my sniffs and efforts push them away* “Yvanna dear come down for dinner!” *I hear my mother call as I get up in my pink pastel long puffy Lacey dress with my hair in curls*

Training

The next day I attended the Academy sitting threw my classes and lessons with focus but I couldn't help but look at Coriolanus his beauty his curls his looks- I stopped myself from looking and continued to focus on ways to take advantage of the games. As the lesson soon ended I came across my tribute as we practiced one-on-one trying to think of how I could better his odds even though he has the brown I would like to give him the brain.

I shortly walked away to get some Items to see how Reaper works with them and I soon came across a tribute his features were beyond what I'd seen from the Capitol his eyes sea green, his hair bronzed color his skin the color of gold if possible whatever he came from they had been keeping him well.. I felt a rush of warmth from my cheeks this tribute quickly noticed my luring eyes. “Fenwick Odair District 4” his smile was a bright pure one he knew he was handsome and showed it* “Did I scare you little bunny?” he said as I quickly regained my thoughts and answered “No, I was just impressed I believe you have a good chance of winning I think the odds are surely more in your favor” he looked at me hand on his chin smirking “That so little bunny?” “Better watch out then this bunny is quick” I smile as I flirt a bit with him and quickly return to Reaper to continue our training.

Unnoticeable to me Coriolanus was watching our interactions on his way to Dr. Volumnia's lab he felt his heart clench with bitter thoughts surfaced in his head what did he do to that tribute from District 4- no what did he think he was here to learn more knowledge to find a better way for Lucy to better her odds for his odds.

After hours

I spent my time brushing my silky (c/h) as it didn't have any tangles or any worries in my long healthy hair as I think about my encounter with Fenwick his love is his charms make me blush still, I hope he wins the game is know I should try to win but Id like to spend more time with him.

I heard a sudden knock on my door and I got up from my vanity in my pink lacey nightgown opened the door got my candle lamp to see who had visited my room in such late hours Maye a maid “y/n” Coriolanus speaks I'm shocked to see him here this light at night “what happen why are you home are you alright is Tigris okay?” I say confused and worried soon his cold hands reach my face and hold my chin I look completely lost to his sudden affection.

He pushes his way inside my room and preps me down on my bed I'm blushing and not sure what he's planning to do “What are you doing Coriolanus?” I say as his piercing blue eyes look at mine like a wolf looking at a poor rabbit to slaughter in minutes, his response was his lips on mine I'm surprised I mean this man was my fiance but he never really showed me an ounce of affection like that and since our last words, I wasn't sure he wanted to be in my life.

I respond with his kisses as he’s on top of me vulnerable to his lips how could I shut him down his mop of white blinding curly hair he just does it for me though in the back of my mind I think of Fenwick and gently push snow off “what are you doing..?” he looks at me a bit surprised and confused “What do you mean y/n I'm showing my affection and love for you” he looks at my eyes then lips then back up to my lips “No this doesn't feel right you don't….Are you okay this doesn't seem like something you think about clearly” I know I want his attention and his kisses but it feels like he's thinking of someone else..not someone Lucy..

“You don't want this you think you do but you love her..” I say “Right now you don't know what you want to be what makes you happy” *I say as I hold a smile and angle face holding tears back pushing the one I want to be happy “Lucy will cherish you as much as I will” he nods and slips out of my room my house like he was never even there the only reaches left were the stolen kisses of mine.

How do we think about this chapter? Is it good for your guys' standards I'll try to make the third one a time skip to after what goes down in the book and snows return back to the Capitol.

please like 😘

SHOUTOUT TO @edb954 for some of the inspiration and @watercolorskyy

[princess-of-the-corner]

oh because I saw a tweet about it I'm still cackling at the idea of Kurogiri getting his age wrong.

Like he wakes up has no memory AfO gives him a made up identity but he doesn't know how old he is and sure maye he asks AfO but AfO probably lies. And that's if he asks because a 17 year old who doesn't know he's 17 is so confident he'll figure it out.

Add in the fact that AfO yeets Kuogiri into the bar so ofc his assumption is that he's over 20 that's the legal drinking age. (Kurogiri wonders how he remembers the legal drinking ageand not his own age). Don't think about how AfO is a villain who doesn't care about the law surely you wouldn't have a kid in a bar right?

So obviously he must be An Adult™ but what else indcates age? Uh. Hm. Well he's old enough to be trusted to watch over a young child! You wouldn't trust someone barely-20 to be solely responsible for a kid unless you had no other option, right? So clearly he's gotta be at least mid-20s.

And his body hurts a lot. That's a thing old people complain about! It might not be 'old age' but surely this is the result of several years of hard work wearing on him (and not just a few months of fucked up experimentation)!

So he's 17 but thinks he's gotta be at least 30 already. And then by the time he actually gets to 30 he thinks he's well into his 40s. Only to find out 'no you just turned 30. You were still 17 when you first woke up'.

I think I'd have a crisis tbh./

[whoahoney]

Good for You

Eddie Munson x Reader request

Summary: Stuck babysitting the newly single reader at a party, Eddie Munson spends the evening with her and in return, she gives him a legendary ride home.

Content Warnings: 18+ smut, afab/Fem!reader, plot & porn, some angst, protected p in v, oral m&f receiving, mentions of overstimulation, pet names, squirting, Eddie’s a lil dom-y, mature language and themes, alcohol & drugs, shitty ex is present, spitting, mentions of reader being cheated on, lots n lots of fluffy kisses and bonding, & no mention of Y/n (please let me know if I missed anything)

A/N: requested by @josephfakingquinn and me

Smut prompt: sloppy road head with Eddie

Thank you for requesting, babe, this was so fun to expand and write!

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“Go on, in you go!” Eddie managed through his relentless giggles as he spun his classmate towards the passenger side of his van. Her loud cackles bounced off the end of the cul-de-sac and echoed all around them, the sweet melody of her laughter pulling at the corners of Eddie’s cheeks while he struggled to keep her still.

“Eddie, c’mon, one more time!” She said out of breath as he lifted her frame up and into the seat with her help. They'd been dancing their entire trip to the car, Eddie smoothly spinning her around under his arm and whirling the pair of them across the lawn.

Now he struggled to get her buckled, “If you keep spinning you’re gonna hurl.” He said as she leaned out of the open door to be difficult, and settled her arms over his shoulders as he tried to turn her back to face the front.

Eddie chuckled easily as she beamed at him, his large hand sprawled against her bare thigh to keep her still as he wrapped the seat belt over her and clicked it into place. The girl had pleasant surprise flash in her eyes and she started clapping for him. “We did it!” She congratulated before he shut the door with a shake of the head, his smile still lingering.

“Thanks again for taking her home.” Nancy said from the lawn, holding his lunchbox for him as she’d watched Eddie buckle in her inebriated friend.

“No problem—kinda got a soft spot for her.” He shrugged as if it was no big deal. Nancy chuckled before stepping closer and handing over the lunch pail.

“Listen, she’s not always like this, a-and I would’ve driven had I known—“

“It’s all good, Wheeler. I know she needed it.” He nodded in understanding.

The waiting girl watched the exchange from her seat in the car, only able to go off their lips to tell what they said. Then she remembered she didn’t have such a skill. To her it looked like Nancy was taking her sweet time batting her big brown puppy dog eyes at Eddie when she should already be half-way to taking his pants off.

Eddie placed a hand on Nancy’s shoulder and nodded before taking a step back from her off the curb. Nancy said something else, which made Eddie laugh. Deciding she’d waited long enough, she cranked down the window.

“Ope, there she is.” Nancy said affectionately, her eyes now trained on her dear friend hanging out of the window as Eddie watched through the windshield in amusement.

“Hi, Nance.” She sang with a light smile and propped her chin on her hands. Nancy waved and took some steps towards the car. “I just wanted to say thank you for hooking me up with the cutest ride. I promise I’ll be good.” She placed her hands on top of Nancy’s before her eyes shamelessly darted to Eddie who blushed at the comment.

Nancy chuckled, “No worries, just get home safe, and call me when you get there—no stops or detours!” She eyed her friend’s pink nose and tear stained cheeks and smiled when her friend nodded in agreement with her fingers crossed.

Nancy was wise enough to know her friend wasn’t above revenge. Especially if that revenge had anything to do with a certain no-good-two-timing Calvin Mayes. Nancy received the call earlier that week, her friend blubbering out of embarrassment and heartbreak.

Calvin hadn’t had a deep hold on her, per say, but the girl couldn’t help but feel like something was wrong with her when she’d caught him cheating with Melinda Garvey in his car during lunch. He’d barely tried to go past missionary with her, let alone fuck her during lunch. What was wrong with her? Why hadn’t he asked her? Why didn’t he just break things off first? Everyone had known about it, and for whatever reason, her oblivion had become the biggest joke.

‘How was it not obvious?’

‘I would’ve never believed that shit about life-long friends, do you see the way they talk to each other??’

‘I bet she wasn’t putting out.’

‘What do you think she’s gonna do?’

‘She’s a ticking time bomb, there’s no telling…”

Even Nancy had worried her friend would do something rash, like the time she found out Pete Harris wrote unsavory things about their friend Susan on the boys' room stall last year.

So much screaming… too much bubblegum… the boy was bald all winter.

As the three of them sat talking, the giggly girl throwing passive compliments Eddie’s way as Nancy observed the building tension between them, they hadn’t noticed the group of letterman’s lingering in the driveway; watching, waiting…

From the moment she’d seen Eddie at Steve’s party, she was determined to talk to him. The girl had been crushing on him for almost two years now, and tonight would be the night she took her chance. Eddie had captivated her from the moment she saw him walking to class, his defensive scowl etched on his face.

She’d caught his nervous glance a few times since—really any time they found themselves in the same room. But his lips always remained in a flat line before snatching his dark gaze away. This made her wonder if she rubbed him the wrong way.

But tonight was different. Tonight, Nancy had spotted her friend’s red face and running mascara at the sight of her new ex and was determined to get rid of the problem before it turned ugly for everyone involved, so she did what any good friend would do, and took her hand to lead her far away.

Eddie had been camped out next to the patio doors in the kitchen, waiting around with his box of goods to sell when Nancy stumbled up hand in hand with the prettiest girl he’d ever seen. Immediately he knew who she was; kind of a wallflower, a legendary temper, a good student, typically stayed out of trouble, and of course, freshly and publicly dumped by one of the coolest guys on the baseball team.

He noticed her tear streaked cheeks and solemn face, her eyes to the floor as Nancy spoke for her. “Eddie! Please, do me a solid and watch her for a second—and don’t let her drink anything!” She yelled over her shoulder after she parked her friend on the wall next to him.

Eddie didn’t protest but he looked shocked as he watched Nancy storm over to a group of boys, a familiar laugh at the center of them all; Calvin. The girl next to Eddie sniffled, taking a few steps to the kitchen island filled with bottles, as if she hadn’t heard Nancy’s instructions. She tried not to pout as she poured some vodka.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa—uh-uh, Wheeler said so.” He said, stepping forward and taking the red cup from her mouth.

Her eyes shot open, pink and swollen like her nose, “Give it back, freak!” She spat without thinking. Eddie grimaced, still holding the cup out of reach, almost unfazed. She froze, her mouth gaping.

The image in front of him almost made his own bottom lip stick out as he watched her eyes well up with more tears before she spoke. “I-I’m so sorry—I don’t-I don’t think you’re a freak.” She rasped with a quivering lip and shaking head. This was not how she planned to speak to him for the first time, by any means.

Eddie shook his head, his hand comforting her back and his other placing the cup on the counter, “Nah, no, don’t mention it. You, uh, you okay?” He asked, scanning down her face.

He could tell she was fighting hard to keep her eyes away from the loud entryway on the other side of the living room as she shook her head without thinking and then stuttered her movement until she nodded. “Yeah. Yeah I’m okay. Just drunk.” She said quietly and clearly.

He knew better though. She wasn’t stumbling like Nancy or slurring, she didn’t reek of alcohol, no. Her perfect shade of pink was of sorrow and not drunkenness. “Hey,” He whispered, eyes full of care as he stared into hers intently. “Do you want anything?”

Her eyes cleared of tears, but longing filled them as he waited for her answer. Her eyes darted around in thought, landing on his lunchbox, but not long before she looked his whole frame over with pleasure, and he saw it. “Yeah, I do.” She nodded, sucking her bottom lip between her teeth as he set his box on the counter.

“—If you have a blunt already rolled, it’d be greatly appreciated.” She said, wiping her face one last time and waited patiently.

Eddie pointed at her in confirmation and dug to the bottom before retrieving a small baggie containing prerolls of different kinds. “My fattest blunt for the prettiest girl.” He smiled, holding it between them. She scoffed and smiled back up at him, a warm and teasing sparkle filling her eye as she stepped forward to take it.

He pulled it back and eyed her suspiciously, “Are you sure you’re good with this? Y’know I’ve never seen you smoke at one of these before.” He said smoothly, an easy smile on his face as he leaned up against the edge of the granite, her mirroring him with a heavy lidded stare and smile on her lips.

She gasped jokingly, “So you have been watching me…” she chuckled, taking another step closer to him and hoping he wouldn’t step back.

He didn’t.

His neck craned down to look at her better, the smell of her sweet perfume tickling his nose above the stale smoke lingering in the room.

“Can you blame me?” He asked above a whisper and chuckled, his real smile spreading across his face as she giggled with shining eyes.

“How’s about,” She cooed, “I buy this off you and you smoke it with me.” She bit her lip, averting her gaze to the floor between their shoes. “I could probably use some help.”

This evening she wore some strappy heels with her little dress, much different than her regular attire as opposed to Eddie, who still had on the clothes he wore to school and Hellfire. She reached into her purse and pulled out a fifty dollar bill to hand to him.

His eyes went wide, “Sweetheart, I don’t have a lot of change—“

“So? Is that enough?”

He stuttered a response, “I mean, y-yeah, but fifty could get you s-so much more than just a blunt, you know?” He chuckled uneasily when he noticed how she watched his lips as he spoke.

‘Is she drunk? Does she want me to be her rebound? Did someone put her up to this?’

“How’s about..” she reached for his hand and put the bill in his palm before closing it. “—you take my fifty and you show me… how far it’ll get me.” She said quieter than before. Eddie caught a gasp in his throat, his eyes wide before he swallowed.

“I, um, we could, like, uh—“

‘Fuck just get it together, pussy, this could be your one shot.’ He berated himself.

“—get outta here?” She suggested easily, an eager gleam taking residence in her eye.

Eddie smiled and nodded, all of his teeth exposed behind his beautiful, full, and framing lips. “I could take you…” he searched, hoping nothing he said sounded too presumptuous. For all he knew this was a ruse.

“Later you could take me home… if you wanted to...” She bit her lip and reached out to trace the chains at the cuff of his leather sleeve.

Eddie’s face burned, his cheeks a pretty pink as he nodded, “I’d love to.”

She noticed his blush almost immediately and chuckled. “But for now,” she said cooly, placing her hand on his face and feeling his temperature, “—you’re gonna take me out back. C’mon.” She giggled at his reaction to her wording as she led him to the backyard.

There were a few stragglers hanging around the back porch fire pit, but most of them were outside to grab some air or a quick smoke before heading back inside with the exception of these two. They sat side by side on a bench, staring into the roaring flames of the fire in front of them while they made comfortable conversation and passed the blunt back and forth.

“Thanks by the way.” She said after a while. Eddie crinkled his brow in a questioning manner. She scoffed lightly. “Everyone's been… gawking at me ever since…“ she shrugged, shaking her head as she looked at him knowingly. “—things ended with Cal. Like I’m just the ‘desperate, pathetic ex’, when I didn’t even like him that much— I felt like he didn’t even like me most of the time. We had some fun, but there wasn’t any love lost, you know? But it’s like they’re just waiting for me to explode. Like they wanna see something happen, y’know? Like I’m not… a person? I dunno.” She rambled quietly towards the flames licking the glowing amber logs.

He nudged her shoulder, “Oh, I know, maybe better than anyone else.” He took a toke and looked at the flames dancing in front of them as he captured her attention. “Everyone’s always picking on me trying to get me to snap and do something crazy, y’know, cause the whole town freak thing.” He winked and exhaled as she nodded with a wince, placing a hand on his thigh. “People like what fits their narrative, babe. They’re gonna talk. But—“

“I meant it—“ She blurted. “—when I said I don’t think you’re a freak.” She said. His eyes met hers and his brows raised in surprise. “I’m sorry.” She said again with a sincere nod. At this, Eddie pushed hair away from her pained face. He’d seen her right after the incident, her jaw clenched and brow knit together for the rest of the day, pouting as if she’d only been in an argument.

But this looked like pain. Like she couldn’t bear to let him think for one moment she had ever thought of him or referred to him as ‘the freak’. He shook his head in gentle disbelief at her before he nodded. “I know.” He said, letting his hand cup her cheek comfortingly, his finger tips playing with the hair around her face. They held their gaze a moment longer before she brought the blunt back up to her lips.

She looked up at his eyes, once so dark and hard from across the room, now so warm and soft in the firelight. So full of sincerity.

“For what it’s worth…” she handed him the blunt, “I’ve always thought he was a piece of shit and that you’re too good… for him and anyone else...” He said lowly and close to her ear.

She nodded. “He really is…” she snickered, though her eyes watered and her mouth tensed. “I…I never wanted to be good for him.” She whispered as if she had just realized it. He daringly leaned down to touch her forehead with his own.

“You shouldn’t have to. You shouldn’t have to want to be good for anyone. Just you.” He affirmed. She smiled and nodded against him.

“Thank you.” She whispered again taking a small gasping breath.

“Y’know, I should thank you, too.” He said just as quietly before taking a hit.

She pulled away to look at him with a shaking head and arched her brow as she took the blunt from him and puffed. “I got to hang out with the prettiest girl at the party tonight.” He’d faced her, his legs straddling the bench they occupied and his arms coming to rest clasped around her hip. Her arm snaked up his shoulder for her fingers to play with his curls, the two of them wrapped up so comfortably you’d think they’d been here before.

“Don’t take too much! You’ll turn your pretty lungs black.” He’d teased as she took a deep inhale. She opened her eyes as she passed it back to him and rolled them before exhaling.

“I’m no—ot a complete newb—ie.” She coughed away and into her fist while he laughed at her, his forehead resting on her shoulder as he did.

She leaned into him for a moment after she gathered herself. Eddie sighed contently, though the warmth building in his core would soon betray him if he didn’t get out of here in the next few minutes. “Hey,” he whispered close to her ear, getting her attention turned to him and their noses grazing. Neither of them cared to move.

“You want that ride now?” He asked quietly, the crackle of the wood burning and the heat of the fire filling her senses behind his whisper. She bit back her smile and nodded.

Eddie shot her a hopeful grin and stood, holding out his hand to pull her up with him. She took his offer and giggled when he tugged, taking no hesitation in wrapping an arm around his waist and keeping her other on her purse. Eddie merrily swung his lunch box beside him, throwing his arm over her shoulders as they walked.

He led them through the packed house, bathing in the feeling of leaving with the prettiest girl in attendance with her arm around him, keeping him close enough to tell her intoxicating perfume was vanilla and something else, like summer. When the front door was in sight she pulled him back to the middle of the living room, a real smile wide on her face.

“You have to dance with me first!” She shouted over the music, freeing his hand of his lunch box and spying Nancy approaching her through the crowd. She handed it off without a word and twirled under his obedient hand. He chuckled at her as she jumped around merrily and tugged him along, trapping his other hand in hers and easily steering him around.

She giggled and shrieked with joy the more he jumped and turned with her, their hair flaring out around them, both of them capturing the bewildered looks of their peers as the Soft Cell song played. But they didn’t see anyone past one another’s smiles. She pulled him close and held his cheeks, his far away eyes trained on hers, and for a moment he thought she’d kiss him.

She went for his ear instead to ask, “Ready to go?” Her chest heaved. He looked at her hopeful gaze and nodded, allowing her to twirl him to the front door, whatever kept her laughing.

And now they were here, seconds away from driving off into the night together, no telling what could happen between them, when suddenly a voice boomed in the empty street.

“Babes! What are ya doin in there?!” Calvin slurred, staggering across the lawn, his perfectly lush hair bouncing as he did. Nancy grumbled and rolled her eyes, thinking she’d seen them pile back into the car they arrived in earlier and drive away. Eddie tensed when he saw the familiar jocks make their way to them, the numbers making him feel uneasy.

The girl in the car bravely leaned out the window, bracing herself on her forearms. “I dunno, Cal, what were you doing in your car on Monday?” she propped her chin on her fist as the boys behind her ex ‘ooo’d.

Cal blinked in response, Eddie’s cheeks heated when he caught the boys intimidating gaze. “You think it’s funny?” He asked her as she stifled a chuckle at his anger. “This is how you’re getting back at me? By-by leaving with-with him? Don’t you have any self respect left?

She shook her head, “You’re pathetic.” She scoffed with a smile, “I’m glad you dumped me. Because if I had dumped you like I planned, you wouldn’t have left me alone anyway.” She shook her head with disgust nagging at her features. Eddie and Nancy exchanged shocked glances through the windshield, smiles of pleasant surprise growing. “If I wanted to get back at you, there’s a thousand things I could do. But going home with Eddie,” she glanced at him again, her smile spreading involuntarily, “that’s for me.” She winked at the blushing boy in front of the van.

Calvin stood, his mouth stuttering without making any words. “Eddie?” She’d asked, his ears perking immediately at her call, “Can we go now?” that familiar sparkle returned to her eyes as she looked at back up at him.

Eddie didn’t answer, instead he ran around the front of the van and hopped inside with a smile. Calvin approached the van further, his confusion evident by his crinkled brow. “Y’know, i-it makes sense you’d go for the freak. At least Melinda doesn’t—“

She spat a fat wad of saliva in his face, halting his sentence right when he thought he had an edge. Nancy didn’t want to enjoy her friend’s antics but she couldn’t help it, Calvin really was a prick.

“Goodbye, Calvin. I hope you learn how to make a girl cum someday.” She saluted him out the window and plopped back into her seat. Her tits jostled in her dress and she hoped Eddie saw as he turned the engine over and shifted it into drive.

She blew Nancy a kiss, watching her walk back up to the house, leaving the dumbfounded baseball team waiting for their stunned friend to come back to earth after his assault, and Eddie peeled off from the curb, leaving Calvin Mayes in the dust.

Her contagious laughter returned as they drove away. Eddie noticed she was out of her seat belt and scooting closer to him. They both wore broad smiles, Iron Maiden played on the radio and she turned it up, “Running Free, right?” She asked above the music.

He did a double take of her genuinely curious eyes and nodded, “Yeah, it is.” He chuckled in disbelief and shook his head.

“What?” She asked above the music.

He shook his head again and looked at her, “You’re amazing.” He shrugged as if it were simple. And to him it was.

She smiled and sang the few lyrics she knew for him, Eddie joining in soon after to fill in the rest as they shared in their laughter. He didn’t hesitate in throwing his arm around her as she snuggled up closer to him.

Her hand went right to his thigh, the touch sending a jolt up his leg and to his already throbbing core. His heart stuttered and his lungs searched for breath as she began a steady stroke, up and down, up and down his long thigh. Her other hand intertwined with his hanging around her shoulder. “S’this okay?” She asked, her wide eyes resembling that of a doe.

He nodded as he tried to keep his eyes on the road ahead. “Y-yeah, more than—ugh—” He struggled,”—more than okay, sweet girl.” He chuckled nervously as her hand inched higher.

“I’s hoping you’d say that.” She giggled, her nose so close to his neck, the smell of leather and his cheap spiced cologne so warm and inviting.

He braked smoothly at a four way stop, not a car in sight. He turned to her, her head leaning on his shoulder delicately, her shining eyes peering up at him in wait. The warm and sweet scent she wore that had been driving him mad tickled his senses one more time—

Honeysuckle.

Her perfume was vanilla and honeysuckle. Sweet like the summer breeze of an evening, like eating a melting vanilla ice cream cone next to the honeysuckle bush of his childhood home as the sun went down and turned the sky lavendar.

Her eyes sparkled up at his, her lips red and plump and shining. Almost pleading with his lips for a kiss. His mouth watered before he swallowed nervously. “You were?” He asked in confirmation.

She nodded, the movement barely visible though he felt it on his shoulder. “Yeah.” She said quietly, gazing at his lips longingly one last time. Eddie felt electricity come alive in his chest, surging him forward and slotting his bottom lip between hers and cradling her jaw with his free hand. His arm that was wrapped around her shoulders pulled her closer, eliciting a moan from her lips as he did.

Just as she licked into his warm and waiting mouth someone behind them laid on their horn, forcing them apart with a jolt of panic. They both gasped softly when they opened their eyes and remembered themselves.

Eddie chuckled and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand as she leaned back, still sitting in the middle of the bench seat, her chest quietly heaving. “Shit, sorry,” he said to no one in particular, and pulled forward, the ghost of his smile lingering on his shining lips.

She licked her lips, collecting the last remnants of his taste on her tongue and swallowed it, wondering if his cum tasted as sweet as his mouth did.

Wild Child by WASP started as the Iron Maiden song ended. Eddie did his best not to look over at her and grin, his crush on her driving him hopelessly mad over the last two years she’d spent at Hawkins. He hoped the dark concealed the throbbing cock in his pants, though he’d be disappointed to know she was currently eyeing it.

He’d wanted to ask if she’d come home with him, or if he should ask if she’d wanted to go out first. Then he wondered if she was even interested in more than fooling around, if she’d even want to sit through a meal with him or go see a band perform at some hole in the wall like he’d probably ask.

Before he could even ask where she wanted him to take her tonight, she was leaning over, her hand shamelessly massaging his dick. “Ohhhh, shit, sweetheart—fuck, what are you doing? Oh, shit what are you doing?” He asked breathlessly as her mouth got involved, practically making out with his tip through the strained denim.

She picked her head up slightly to look up at him, “You want me to stop—s’it too much?” She nearly gasped. Eddie shook his head almost painfully, his lips trying to mutter ‘No, no.’ as she smiled conivingly before tugging his zipper down and unbuttoning his pants.

‘Cause I’m burning, burning, burning up with fire…

So come turn me on and turn the flames up higher…’

She stuck her hand in, massaging him through his soft boxers and making him moan pathetically as he fought to keep his eyes open and on the road. “Ohh-ohhh, fuck,” he whined.

She laid her head back down on his shoulder and spoke saccharinely in his ear, “C’mon, get us to your place—“ she nibbled and sucked on his ear, “and you can do whatever you want to me.”

She resumed stroking his cock, a painful sigh slipping through his teeth. “Are you—are you sure?” He breathed. Instead of answering, she lowered her face to his lap and tugged his pants down, his length now free. His flushed tip was already glistening for her. She moaned as she lapped it up, closing her mouth around the tip and sucking.

An almost pained cry escaped him as she suckled at the most sensitive part of him. “Baby, you don’t have to—“

“Shut up, Munson—“ she pulled off to say with a smile and a bite in her voice, and buried his cock back in her mouth as quickly as she spoke. She deliberately dove down as far as she could go to gag herself, the sound and feeling of her throat closing around his tip and shaft making him press harder on the gas than he meant to.

She bobbed up and down, unafraid of hitting the back of her throat as the spit continued to fill her mouth. Her head began to feel more warm and fuzzy than the weed had provided and the space between her thighs grew wetter the more he lost control of his mouth and sounds. She relished his praise, never understanding how powerless girls got for boys, but now she knew.

In between each downward surge, she’d delicately trace the veins of his shaft with her tongue, her spit practically leaving a puddle beneath his balls.

Her lips and chin were covered in her drool, her eye makeup sliding down her face as she worked, but it wouldn’t matter to him. She groaned when she felt his hand at the back of her hair, tangling his fingers in her messy curls and keeping a firm grip on it, but letting her keep the pace.

They came to another stop, each of her tongue lashes provoking a whine from Eddie’s lips as his hips involuntarily bucked into her mouth. “I never woulda thought—oh, fuck— that you’d be so—fucking dirty.” He strained.

She pulled off of him and replaced her mouth with her hand, the sloppy head leaving her with plenty of lubrication to slide and twist her wrist at the head of his cock as she whispered in his ear, the light turning green. “People like what fits their narrative, yeah?” She traced a line with her tongue up the column of his neck, feeling him clench his jaw and whine almost shamelessly as she pressed a kiss just below his ear, “I’ve been dreaming of fucking you for too long, Eddie… I wanna—“ she sighed euphorically into his shoulder, “—I wanna be good for you, Eddie, and-and I knew you wouldn’t—” she kissed his neck with her wet lips, lightly sucking little patches of his skin here and there as she pleased and losing herself in him.

“W-Wouldn’t what?“ he gently pulled her off him by the back of her neck, cars passing him as he drove too slowly down the stretch of dark road ahead.

“He��it doesn’t matter.” She moved to resume her kisses on his neck when he flinched away, his hand still on the wheel and hers still on his cock.

“—O-Of course it matters.” He shook his head pleadingly.

She sighed and laid her head on his shoulder, tucking her nose into his neck. “He’d call me…weird—a freak, for wanting to try different things. For wanting more than what he gave me.”

“H-He called you a freak?—F-For that?! And not in a fun way??” He asked through the strain, his eyes bouncing between the road and her as she continued to stroke his cock with her hand. She nodded and he pulled her closer to fuck into her hand and whisper in her ear, “You’re not a freak, baby, you’re-you’re perfect, a dream, even!” He groaned as her pace quickened and she resumed her sweet kisses along his neck with moans spilling out in-between at his praises.

He saw the familiar sign for the trailer park, “Oh, shit, baby, we’re almost there.”

“Then you better cum, Munson.” She challenged, diving back down to his lap as he came up on the turn-in.

“What?!” He cried as she slotted his aching dick back into her mouth and moaned around him while she started a brisk speed. “Oh, oh, fuck—shit, baby, you’re so—fucking good.” He sighed as he turned the wheel, tears welling up in his eyes as he fought the urge to blow his load in her mouth.

Her nails ran up his side underneath his shirt, pressing into his skin deliciously as she dragged them back down, hopefully leaving some marks for him to find in the morning. She moaned again and picked up her speed, her panties stuck to her slick folds. “Fuck—m’gonna cum, fuck!” Eddie cried as the van skidded to a halt in front of his trailer, throwing it in park and slumping back in his seat to relax for the rest of the amazing dream this had to be.

His hand clenched her hair at the nape of her neck, her moan reverberating down his shaft as he pulled her head up to the tip of his cock so he could fuck her face freely. Her hot drool dripped down him as he spurted hot ropes of cum down her throat. “MmmMmMmmMmm…” She hummed around him, as he thrusted, her hands clenched at his hips, keeping him close until she was sure he was done.

He sighed deeply, a long moan slipping out with it. His fingers lovingly rubbed the roots where he pulled her hair as she lifted her face off of his hot, wet dick and tucked him back inside his pants. She avoided looking him in the eye under the guise of nonchalant confidence but really she worried about where things would go next. Had she gone too far? Would this solidify her spot as a slut now?

“You are absolutely… oh my god..” he said breathlessly, scanning her absolutely ruined face for any kind of regret, yet he found none. Her makeup was close to gone but she couldn’t have been more beautiful to him in this moment. “C’mere,” he whispered and pulled her chin to him, capturing her in a hungry kiss, tongues and teeth carelessly clashing as they whined and moaned for each other. Eddie almost got hard again at the taste of himself lingering in her mouth.

He wanted to lay her back in the seat, but knew she deserved better. He pressed a kiss to the corner of her mouth, laying them down inch by inch until he reached her ear. “Let me take you inside and show you how the freak can make you cum on his tongue.” He flicked his tongue like a madman when he pulled away, sparks flying between her legs at the sight. Her eyes fluttered closed and a wanton sigh escaped her as he began his kisses down her neck again until she nodded.

Eddie smiled and pecked her lips one last time before opening his door, his pants still unzipped. He stepped out, adjusting his jacket and hair (though it didn’t help) before clearing his throat and holding out a hand for her to take. She chuckled at his state and worried what she must look like, herself, but then she looked back up at his eyes and saw the way he stared at her. All of those worries drifting away with the cool night air.

Eddie looked like he was floating away on cloud nine as he shut the door and wrapped his arm around her waist. “Right this way, m’lady.” He assisted her up the steps with a delicate hold on her hand and opened the door from behind her, his arm wrapped around her keeping her close to his front. She felt his fingers stroke lightly, grazing around her hips as he guided her inside.

Eddie’s heart felt heavy when he shut the door behind him and saw her taking in the front room. He wondered what her house must look like, if it was on cinder-blocks or had high ceilings. She turned to him with an easy smile. “I have that same mug.” She pointed to a cow mug in the corner. “And that one too!” She chuckled at the Garfield on the shelf.

Eddie’s face lit up as he shrugged off his jacket and slung it over the arm of the couch. “Yeah? I want proof. That guy right there—“ he pointed at the cow mug, “—one of a kind.” He failed to keep the smile off his face as he approached her. Her smile grew as he wrapped his arms around her and stroked down her back.

“I’m willing to bet the bottom of it says it was made in Taiwan.” She nodded, bumping his chin with her own as she did. Eddie rolled his eyes in defeat, “Shit. Busted. Now how am I supposed to have breakfast with you sometime?” He mumbled in her ear and began hot slow kisses on her neck.

“Mmm—I can think of a few ways…” she smiled at him and tugged him to her by his shirt, continuing their kiss from earlier and beginning something completely new and beautiful and pure.

He’d laid her down, completely bare, on top of the blanket of his bed and ate her pussy until she was crying for his cock. It didn’t take long for him to give in, his member standing rock hard the moment he got her down to her panties. They’d been covered in sweat before he even got a condom on despite the chilly air of his bedroom.

He’d rendered her brain useless as he filled her, every thrust pushing all words farther from her head besides yes, god, Eddie, and fuck varying in order. She breathed him in, welcoming the feeling of his skin rubbing against hers and his hands roaming anywhere they could, grabbing all the neglected parts that deserved to be cherished.

He’d whisper things in her ear that continued to push her down the spiraling tunnel, coaxing yet another orgasm from her after she said she couldn’t give anymore. “You told me,” he said through his relentless panting, “I could do whatever I wanted to you—“ his hips stuttered and his movements almost stopped, except her flipped them over quickly and sat her up on top to ride. “I got you, baby,” he’d whispered lovingly, “Now cum on my cock, like a good little slut.” He growled, roughening his pace and relishing her warmth gushing all over his lap.

“Oh, yeah, what a good girl, fuck!” He cried as he finally reached his release, his girl taking over and bouncing on his lap as he finished. “Fuckfuckfuckfuck me, yesssssss!” He groaned to the ceiling as her pussy practically sucked him dry, the wet slapping of her ass hitting his thighs was crisp and loud in his small room along with the squeaking of his old spring. She smiled down at him while she rocked on him, watching as he sat in bliss. His eyes closed as he panted and grinned.

“Holy fucking shit.” He said, opening his eyes and looking her over with a dumb smile, as if he’d just stepped off the rollercoaster ride of his life. She smoothed his hair and he smiled wider, pulling her under the covers and kissing every part of her body all over again, until she was giggling and tugging his lips away from her stomach, back up to her own.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

On Monday morning, Eddie was left wondering if she’d actually talk to him at school. He didn’t want to let himself believe she might have used Saturday and Sunday as time to think and toil over it all. Would she be embarrassed?

He sat at his regular seat in the cafeteria, some of Hellfire present for the free breakfast the school handed out. His knee bounced anxiously as he stared into his untouched oatmeal. “Dude, what‘s the problem?” Jeff asked with a nudge of his elbow. Eddie shook his head and ceased his nervous foot.

“Nothing, man—you know how—“ before he could explain, he saw a familiar hand place a coffee cup in front of him, steam rising through the small hole in the lid. Next, she took a wrapped up sandwich that smelled of sausage and egg from a paper bag and sat it next to the cup.

He looked up at her, grinning when he saw her still sleepy eyes and her small smile looking back down at him, her own coffee in hand. Her bag was slung over her shoulder and she wore a green sweater and jeans, something he’d seen her wear a thousand times. And it just so happened to be his favorite.

She stroked his shoulder tenderly before he stood, crinkling his brow and looking at the food as if to say ‘What’s this?’

She shrugged, “Breakfast, right?” Her mouth twitched, trying to conceal her blushing smile that was fighting hard to pry its way onto her lips.

Eddie threw his arms around her and pulled her to him, burying his nose in her hair and breathing in her perfume as he held her. “You’re… unreal. Thank you.” He kissed her head before releasing her and looking at his gaping friends, some others at surrounding tables gawking along with them. He reached over and pulled a free chair to join his at the end of the table and pushed it in as she sat down.

“Gentlemen,” he said with his hands on her chair as she set her bag down on the floor. He didn’t pause as he properly introduced her and picked up the bag to hang off the back of her chair. “—These are the guys, Gareth, Jeff, Grant, and Ned.” Everyone waved lightly, their eyes still wide in disbelief as she greeted them kindly.

“When did you get a girlfriend?!” Ned asked Eddie incredulously.

Eddie’s eyes went wide, but before he could answer and dispute Ned’s claim, she replied, “Friday.” and picked his hand up from her shoulder to kiss his ring before placing it back down. The action made Eddie blush, his eyes all warm and gooey resting on her, massaging her shoulder affectionately. She smiled easily and sipped her coffee.

“Eat, babe, the bell’s gonna ring soon.” She quietly urged, placing a hand on his knee and nodding at his food in front of him. He stared at her in shock, unable to move until her hand was completely retracted from him. He picked up the sandwich and unwrapped it, the melted cheese sticking to the paper making his mouth water along with the sight of fresh sausage. He tried not to moan as he took a bite and chewed carefully.

“Mmm—thank you.” He said again with a groan.

His girl chuckled and shook her head as his friends resumed their conversation from before. “I should be thanking you.” She quoted him, blushing cheeks mirroring his own as he reached between them and pulled her chair closer.

“How’s about,” he whispered, rocking his head side to side playfully, “We take lunch in the van later, huh? What would you say about that?” He stuck an ornery tongue between his lips.

“I’d say…” her eyes darting between his eyes and mouth, “I’s hoping you’d say that.”

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Taglist baddies 🤍

@newshade @loving-and-dreaming

[mariacallous]

[Breaking news update, published at 1:19 p.m. ET]

In a historic decision Tuesday, the Arizona Supreme Court ruled the state must adhere to a 123-year-old penal code barring all abortions except in cases when “it is necessary to save” a pregnant person’s life.

The law, which can be traced to as early as 1864, also carried a prison sentence of two to five years for abortion providers.

[Original story, published at 1:11 p.m. ET] CNN  — 

The Arizona Supreme Court has ruled on whether the state’s current ban on nearly all abortions after 15 weeks will stay in place, or if it will revert to a far narrower 123-year-old law with roots in the Civil War era. CNN is currently reviewing the decision.

The older law barred the procedure in all cases regardless of gestation, except when “it is necessary to save” a pregnant person’s life. It carried a prison sentence of two to five years for abortion providers.

The case is the latest high-profile example of the battle over abortion access that has played out across several states since Roe v. Wade was overturned by the US Supreme Court in 2022. Since that decision, nearly two dozen states have banned or limited access to the procedure. Providers have warned that restrictive policies on abortion access place patients at risk of poor health outcomes and doctors at risk of legal liability.

In a notice Monday, the Arizona court indicated it will file an opinion in Planned Parenthood of Arizona vs. Mayes/Hazelrigg at approximately 10 a.m. PT Tuesday.

Justices heard opening arguments in the case last December, when abortion rights opponents claimed the state should revert to the 1901 ban, and advocates asked the court to affirm the 2022 law allowing abortions up to 15 weeks, CNN previously reported.

When he signed the law in March 2022, then-Gov. Doug Ducey stated the 2022 law would not override the older law.

In late 2022, the Arizona Court of Appeals ruled both abortion laws in the state must be reconciled, or “harmonized,” and that abortion is legal through 15 weeks when provided by licensed physicians in compliance with the state’s other laws and regulations, CNN previously reported.

The state Supreme Court was asked for clarity following months of uncertainty and legal wrangling over which law should apply in the state.

Last week, Arizona for Abortion Access, a group of abortion rights organizations, announced it had gathered enough signatures for a November 2024 ballot measure that would ask voters to enshrine abortion rights in the state’s constitution.

The push is part of a massive effort to get abortion on the 2024 ballot in several states, a move abortion rights advocates are hopeful will restore some power to voters rather than state courts.

[foxymoxynoona]

After the Applause (Ch. 7)

Header and linebreaks by @awrkives

Single Dad Jimin x Female OC

SUMMARY: Jimin doesn't know how he would have made it this far after the shattering of his world without the support of his thoughtful, generous, helpful neighbor. Hanbyul has lived next to hottie Jimin and his adorable daughter for years now, long enough to remember the wife he was so devoted to and lost far too young. With each safely ensconced on their side of the brick wall of the Parks' grief, it will take an enterprising little scientist to set the stage for a second chance at love.

CW/tags: grief, prior loss of spouse/parent, comfort, explicit sex, secondhand embarrassment, sort of love triangle/web/rat's nest, fluff, cursing, dating apps, fuckboy friends, dancer Jimin, stubborn dad Jimin, stubborn pre-teen daughter, miscommunication, pining

Previous Chapter | Masterlist | Next Chapter

By Monday Sunnie was almost completely back to her normal exuberant self, but her round-the-clock caretaker Appa had simply ushered the illness from daughter to dad. He knew it for sure when walking her to school left him red-faced, breathless, and shivering. There was no use denying it, no choice except to call Hoseok and other staff to see who could cover his classes for at least today and tomorrow. The last thing he wanted to do was pass this onto his students, especially not with the recital rushing closer.

Besides, he could work on choreography for Taejoon’s idol group from home –that was a gig he didn’t want to pass off. He could really use the additional income this month. Rent was going up in two months and he’d been avoiding thinking about it because obviously he couldn’t upset their lives and move them somewhere cheaper. This was their home. It had been Subin’s home. He wouldn’t know where to hallucinate her in a new home where she’d never been before, as he did the whole afternoon he spent curled up on the couch, sweating through his fever. 

Turned out he didn’t even have the energy to make himself tea, certainly not to choreograph a routine. Once again, Jimin had vastly overestimated himself.

At the last minute he realized he was not sure he could make the walk to get Sun-young. Shit! It was a short list of friends he felt comfortable asking for a favor like that: Hoseok was already covering his classes, Jungkook wasn’t answering his phone, but Taehyung did, on the second ring, like he’d been waiting for a call from Jimin. He was happy to get her but he had promised to go with Seokjin for something and could he just take Sun-young along with him for that? It sounded to Jimin like he’d said to greet the Muppets for the disco party but that was probably not right. The fever made everything fuzzy right now.

But whatever, Taehyung and Seokjin would never take her anywhere unsafe, so that was perfect. He called Sun-young’s school to have them give Sunnie the message Uncle Tae would pick her up and then collapsed on the couch and stopped thinking about anything. The fever was miserably uncomfortable. He didn’t have any adult medicine for it in the house; he prided himself on not getting sick often but damn it would have been welcome right now. Maye anti-nausea too, his stomach cramped and complained even though he wasn’t hungry.

The whole afternoon passed in a blink. He didn’t realize he’d even fallen asleep and suddenly Sun-young’s feet were pounding down the hallway. She knew the code and let herself in, Taehyung and Seokjin right on her heels.

Seokjin called from the hall, “No offense, Jimin, but I’m keeping my distance. I can’t get a restaurant of people sick!”

“I could use a few days off work,” Taehyung joked. “Lay one on me.”

Jimin only grunted at him and eased himself up to a sitting position. Sun-young grimaced.

“You’re really sick, Appa.”

“Wonder how that happened,” Taehyung teased and nudged Sun-young. But she looked genuinely upset, and that last thing Jimin wanted was for her to feel guilty. It was part of being a dad. He didn’t want her to hide that she was sick next time.

“It’s a testament to how close we are together,” Jimin insisted, the words a croak from his throat. “I wouldn’t have it any other way. Thanks for keeping her this afternoon, Tae. Thanks, Jin.” He pushed up from the couch and did his best not to look wobbly. “OK, Sunnie, let’s figure out some dinner.”

“You sure you don’t want me to stick around and help?” Taehyung pressed.

“Nah, it’s fine, I’m good, just groggy because I’m waking up.”

“Ok… but hey man, call me if you need anything, ok? You know my schedule is flexible, I’m happy to help.”

Jimin thanked them both again and flinched when the door slammed shut behind them. The offers were sincere, he knew that, just like he rationally knew his friends did not mind covering his classes or helping him with his child. He had to believe that, because he knew he wouldn’t begrudge them the help. He loved to be helpful. But accepting help when he’d had to lean on them so much was hard. He didn’t feel like it was nearly balanced.

Belatedly he realized he should have asked Taehyung if he knew what was going on between Hanbyul and Jungkook. Taehyung was nosy, he probably knew exactly how long they’d been dating and how serious it was and where they met and the first time they kissed and everything.

Maybe it was better he hadn’t asked though. He didn’t know that he was in a good headspace right now to find out they’d been dating for months now and he was just dumb as a rock oblivious. Why wouldn’t Jungkook have told him? And honestly, wasn’t it right that Jungkook should have asked him first if he had feelings for Hanbyul before making his move? It was the right thing to do as friends.

“Appa are you ok?” Sunnie asked as he shuffled to the kitchen. 

He waved his hand at her. “Yeah yeah, I’m good.”

But she planted herself in front of him and reached up to feel his sweaty forehead.

“You’re really sick, Appa. I know what it was like. Go lay down and I can make my own dinner.”

“You’re nine.”

“So what? I can make some things! Are you hungry? I can make something for you too.”

“I’m not hungry,” he admitted. He hesitated. If he insisted on cooking for her, was this just another way in which he was failing to recognize that she was growing up and gaining independence? Or was this leaning on his daughter in an unhealthy way, expecting her to be another adult in the house?

“We have gimbap, I can eat that. Go sleep. I’ll do my homework after I eat.”

“Ok…” He hesitated. This felt like a parenting failure. “Just get me if you need anything… I’ll just be in my room. You won’t be bothering me.”

Sun-young gave him a serious, decisive node and then pointed her finger towards his bedroom. He’d been summarily dismissed. It made him laugh, which turned into an achy coughing fit, so he did what she said and went to lie down.

Time passed unmeasured, but eventually Jimin rose from his deep sleep to the sounds of murmuring female voices and clinking cookware. For a brief moment, he found himself lost in time to years ago, when his wife might be in the kitchen cooking dinner. Especially after Sun-young was born, they’d alternated day-night shifts since their newborn daughter demanded attention round the clock; she’d been a terrible sleeper. He’d usually taken the night shift because he liked it anyway. 

Just as quickly he landed back in the present time. He tried to push quickly and clumsily from the bed to find out who the hell was in his apartment with his daughter, when he heard a laugh that answered for him.

Hanbyul was here.

He slowed his step and glanced at himself in the mirror over his dresser. He looked fucked up. There was only so much he could do about it though, the sweaty pink shine wasn’t going away until the cold did. He brushed his fingers through his hair, trying to look devilishly disheveled. He was not sure that it worked. He changed his clothes quickly so at least he wouldn’t smell like stale sweat.

He pulled on his best smile as he leaned against the counter separating kitchen from dining and living room. Sun-young stood on a chair and peered through the lid of a deep pot. Hanbyul stood at the counter beside her with her loose sweater sleeves rolled up past her elbows, knife making quick work of an onion. Her hair was pulled up into a spiky high bun, a few wispy strands escaping to frame her face. Her eyes were red from the onions when she glanced up at Jimin. And smiled.

“Appa! How do you feel?” Sun-young asked very seriously again, her laughter from a moment ago deftly suppressed.

“I’m..” He wanted to say good but he didn’t want Hanbyul to take his appearance as normal. “I’ve been better,” he admitted. “But better since this morning… I think…” The scent of the onions tickled his nose and he turned quickly away to sneeze into his elbow. Suddenly Hudu leapt down from the couch and vaulted over to Jimin, jumping up against his legs, like he’d been sleeping too deeply to notice Jimin was even there. 

“We’re making samgyetang,” Hanbyul assured him, as if he couldn’t have figured that out by the gingery smell of the broth. His nose was too stuffy to have caught it from the bedroom, but when Hanbyul lifted the lid on the pot so she and Sun-young could look inside, just enough of it managed to reach his sinuses for him to groan. He had no appetite but for that, he could develop one.

Hanbyul’s raised eyebrows made embarrassment rush through him.

“Oh, uh, it smells good. My nose is all f– messed up, but I could smell that– why are you here?” His voice cracked on the last note after croaking out the rest of it. Quickly he added, “You’re always welcome but we’re sick! I don’t want to get you sick too.”

Hanbyul shared a smile with Sun-young, as if they’d predicted and discussed this response. Jimin tried to crouch to pet Hudu, still spinning around his legs, but his body was too achy. He tried to get Hudu to jump up into his arms, but the dog wouldn’t. A stalemate in which neither of them was happy.

“I appreciate your concern but I think I’ll be all right. I have such a strong immune system, I rarely get sick. Don’t worry about me.”

“I asked her to come help me make soup for you,” Sun-young added.

“I see but– it’s very thoughtful but–” He spun quickly away to deliver a coughing fit into his elbow. Hudu was worried enough to scratch at his shin.

It meant he didn’t see Hanbyul come around from the kitchen until she touched his arm and held out a mug of steaming yuzu jelly tea.

“Please go rest more. Sun-young and I are just fine here.”

“She taught me how to mince garlic!”

“With a knife?!” Jimin cried, barely more than a wheeze of words.

Hanbyul tutted at him –tutted– “She’s old enough to learn how to safely cook things! I was much younger and still have all my fingers. Now back to bed, and make sure to drink that tea.”

She was so firm about it, he found his legs obeying. He stopped just through the door though and looked back. Hanbyul slid back around the counter and looked at whatever Sun-young was showing her on the counter. He knew that hopeful smile of Sunnie’s, that desperate need for acknowledgement. She beamed at Hanbyul’s praise for whatever it was. Together they lifted the lid and slid things in, four hands working together, and put the lid back on. The pot belched at them though, knocking the top askew. Both girls erupted with giggles as Hanbyul stirred and replaced the lid. Hudu sat in the middle of the rooms, as if he needed to see everyone at once. He watched Jimin and something in his eye made it look like he was about to bark and tattle on Jimin for not being in bed yet.

She shouldn’t be here. She didn’t need to be here. It  was asking too much, for her to come into a sick apartment and make soup for him. Sunnie had done the asking and Hanbyul had come and he owed her so much.

Hudu barked.

“Go to bed, Park Jimin!” Hanbyul called, and Sunnie giggled and pointed, chanting, “Go go! We’ll get you when it’s ready!” 

“Traitor,” Jimin mumbled to Hudu. Hudu stretched out to nap, conscience clear.

He lay in bed, as ordered. He sat up to sip the tea until only the dredges were left. He lay back down and listened to the crescendo of giggles across the apartment. They wove through his dozy dreams, swaddling him, rocking him in the rhythm of their conversation. He dreamed of seashell wind chimes on the balcony of a beachside bungalow; he dreamed of a crackling fireplace in front of three mugs of hot cocoa; he dreamed of a cool breeze caressing his skin with whispers: dance on, dance on.

He awoke to silence. The window was black with night, only by the light from the hallway could he find his phone in the sheets: 8:30. Time to get Hanbyul ready for bed. His body ached as he pushed himself up from the sweaty embrace of his bed. He felt like garbage, but slightly warmed over garbage, thanks to his nap-companion Hudu, who had jumped up into bed with him at some point. Garbage that could at least get his daughter’s school things ready for tomorrow, see her to bed, shower, and then collapse again. Maybe eat some soup, if there was any left. 

He forgot to check his hair and face as he stumbled into the hall. Two figures sitting at the end of it made him do a double take. It wasn’t the ghost of Subin, though, and he wasn’t confused by a memory this time, only confused to see them there: Sun-young and Hanbyul kneeling in front of the shrine they kept for Subin by the narrow window she had always joked was for growing a single flower in. So they did grow a single flower in it, though Jimin often forgot to water it so it tended to be more dead than alive.

He paused as Sun-young’s voice carried, “Sometimes I don’t remember very much about her.”

Hanbyul made a sympathetic humming noise.

“I was only maybe six years old when she died? I just remember suddenly she lived in the hospital and Appa took me there to visit her and I didn’t like being there because it smelled bad and everyone was sad a lot.”

“It’s ok not to remember everything,” Hanbyul said gently. “You were very little and sometimes remembering someone we’ve lost can hurt a lot, I think, so our minds… hm, maybe they wrap a blanket around the memory to keep it safe for another time when it won’t hurt so much.”

“Maybe that’s why Appa doesn’t talk about her very much,” Sun-young said and Jimin felt a knife in his ribs. “It makes him really sad.” Jimin felt like they did talk about her a lot. Wasn’t Subin in almost everything they said and did? But less so lately, and that was… hard.

“I can’t imagine how hard it is to lose someone you love that much. You both are very strong. I’m glad you have each other.”

He knew he shouldn’t keep listening to this and yet he couldn't tear himself away. Was it really so bad to eavesdrop? He decided Sun-young was right; despite the shrine, they did not talk about Subin very often. He always feared speaking of her would only remind Sunnie of what she lost, what she didn’t have. It sure did for Jimin.

“I remember her hair was really soft and I would wrap it around my fingers when we read books together,” Sun-young said. “I just learned to read when she got sick and I read books to her in the hospital. She liked Hello Banana Moon and Cloud Bread. Do you know those books?”

“I don’t.”

“I think I still have them. I’ll let you borrow them so you can read them. They're really good but I haven’t read them in a long time. Maybe we can read them together.”

“I’d like that a lot,” Hanbyul said and Jimin could feel her smile even though he saw only the back of her head. The girls sat so close together, Subin’s smiling face beaming down at them from the shrine. He knew where those two books were: tucked into the cupboard beneath the candles and figurines and Subin’s photos. He’d tucked them there when she died because it was too much to read the words to Sun-young that ought to be in Subin’s voice. 

But Sun-young wanted to share those stories her mother had taught her to read with Hanbyul.

The emotion was difficult to breathe around, a pair of fingers pinching the bridge of his nose, a rising tide blocking his throat. 

“I don’t remember much,” Hanbyul said. “I didn’t know your eomma very well but I would see her in the hall or the mail room. She was always very polite and thoughtful. She would hold the door open if my arms were full. If someone left trash out, she would take on the task of cleaning it up, even though it wasn’t hers. One year there was ice on the stairs and our neighbor Ma Gurim who is high in years nearly slipped. Your mother called the building manager and wouldn’t stop calling until they came out to take care of the ice.”

Sun-young giggled and said, “Appa says I have her stubbornness.”

“Her resilience, I think it is. Her brightness. She seemed like she could do anything, just like you.”

“It’s not very fair that she died.”

“No, Sun-young. It’s really, really not fair.”

Sun-young let out a heavy sigh and rested her head against Hanbyul’s shoulder. If it made Hanbyul uncomfortable, Jimin couldn’t tell from her body language. After a moment she wrapped her arm around the girl’s shoulder and rubbed her arm.

Jimin didn’t want to disturb them. He felt like he would be. Anyway, he didn’t know what to say. He couldn’t have said anything better than Hanbyul had and her words lingered with him as he tiptoed away to the kitchen. 

It was too much to ask of a woman, wasn’t it? To come into a house that had lost one and take over being a partner and a mother. Not that it mattered anyway because Hanbyul was seeing Jungkook now but… well, it would have been too much to ask of her and that’s why it was for the best. Probably she felt incredibly awkward talking to Sun-young about her dead mother because it was an uncomfortable topic and while obviously she had navigated it beautifully, it was too much to ask. 

The kitchen had been cleaned so thoroughly there was no evidence of cooking. He opened the fridge with a start in his heart that maybe they had eaten all the soup and left none for him.

“What are you doing?” Hanbyul demanded behind him. “Shoo, get out of my kitchen! Go sit down.”

“It’s my kitchen,” he glowered, and playfully demanded, “Where’s my soup?”

She squeezed behind him and bodied him away to open the oven door where a stone bowl of the soup rested, still warm. The scent of it carried such a strong sense of strength and health and rest that it nearly brought tears to his eyes. That’s it, that’s the only reason his eyes were misty.

“I’ll carry it for you, go sit.”

“It’s time for Sun-young to get ready for–”

“I know, Appa, I’m already in my pajamas. I just need to brush my teeth,” Sun-young glowered just like him, arms crossed at his doubt. “I’ll make you tea and then go right to bed.”

“We have to get your backpack ready–”

“We did that,” Hanbyul assured him. “She wants to eat school lunch tomorrow or I said I would pack her one.”

“Unnie even ironed my uniform,” Sun-young added.

Hanbyul looked embarrassed by that and clarified, “With you both sick lately they just sat in the laundry basket for too long. Sunnie told me about her fundraiser and demonstrations.”

“Appa, can unnie help us make the rice cakes? We can teach her how to make them really nice. I know Appa isn’t a good cook but he really knows how to make the best rice cakes.”

Jimin felt like he was wrapped up in a whirlwind between them as he dove into the soup Hanbyul placed before him. They’d carried on all evening without him, and Hanbyul even had Sun-young ready for the day tomorrow. He didn’t have to worry about a thing.

“I can walk Sunnie to school too, if that’s helpful,” Hanbyul offered. 

Jimin shook his head and argued, “It’s not the direction of your office.”

“You know that?” Hanbyul asked, surprised. 

“I see the direction you walk, it’s not mysterious.”

She grinned and insisted, “It’s not too far out of the way though. I’ll just make my coffee at home before I go instead of stopping by the cafe. It’s better for my wallet anyway.”

“I’m sure I’ll be better by the morning.”

Sun-young put her hands on her hips and said to Habyul, “I think both my parents are stubborn.”

“There was no other way you could be,” Hanbyul nodded and it made Sun-young giggle. “It’s a good thing.”

“Is it?” Jimin teased.

“I’m going to pretend I didn’t hear that and go brush my teeth,” Sunnie said and stuck her tongue out at him. 

How strange to feel like a cared-for guest in his own home. Hudu had moved to the living room since Jimin left the bed and stretched out in a new nap across Jimin’s slippers, several of his toys strewn across the rug. The TV was off but low music played through the speakers.

“I’ll turn that off,” Hanbyul realized, heading for it. “Sunnie was trying to teach me to dance.”

“You seemed to do fine at the club.”

Immediately she covered her face and sighed, “Let’s never talk about that again.”

“No problem,” Jimin said and meant it. He’d like if they could never talk about him going to check on her the next morning and Jungkook opening the door as well.

While he slurped the soup and Hanbyul fiddled with the CD player and Sun-young sang loudly to herself in the bathroom as the water ran and Hudu decided to take a break from napping and work the squeaker out of his toy, Jimin got a very foreign feeling: wholeness. He felt like he was home. He was home, but he felt like it quite suddenly, like he rarely had done since the very first day he’d come home while Subin remained in hospital.

Sun-young threw her arms around his shoulders and kissed his cheek and bid him goodnight. Hanbyul followed her to say goodnight and turn the light off and for a moment Jimin almost told them where the storybooks were, but couldn’t quite bring himself to it. It felt dangerous to, like if he offered her one more step further into their lives, he’d never be able to let her go. 

Could she really co-exist with the memory of Subin? Was Sun-young really ok with that?

How could it seem so natural to watch her turn the bathroom light off and take Sunnie a glass of water and then scoop Hudu up for a snuggle. She ought to collapse onto the couch in exhaustion after an evening of parenting. And Jimin would collapse next to her, and drag her into his lap so they could stretch out and find something worthwhile to watch on the TV. She’d fall asleep there and he’d wake her gently later to move to–

Shit, he had to stop thinking like this. He had to. It was becoming too tragic to pine for his neighbor too late. He’d fucked up and only his fever-riddled brain was willing to admit how badly. Very badly. As she carried Hudu with her to sit in the chair next to him, Jimin had the unfortunate understanding that he might be very much in love with Hanbyul and been trying to hide it from himself.

I never know what I’m doing but you make me feel like I can figure it out. I think you belong here. Why don’t you just stay?

“I’m sorry if I massively overstepped tonight,” she said, completely at odds with his internal tragedy. 

“No. No, of course not. You can’t overstep but you didn’t have to do all this–” He broke off to cough into his elbow –away from her. If he got her sick, he’d never get over the guilt.

“I’ve told you before, it’s not a big deal. I love spending time with Sun-young and I’m glad you were able to get some rest. I’m serious about walking her to school in the morning too, unless you’d rather have one of your other friends.”

“I’m sorry if she made you uncomfortable talking about… Subin.”

Hanbyul’s sincere confusion was so endearing that he felt a twinge of guilt, saying Subin’s name just as he thought damn, Hanbyul really is pretty, isn’t she? It’s crazy she never went into acting or modeling.

“Why would that make me uncomfortable?” Hanbyul asked. “I’m flattered she felt like telling me about her mother. She’s a part of you and Sun-young forever. It’s unfair she can’t be here to take care of you while you’re sick and take care of Sun-young, but I hope I honored her by stepping in for an evening.”

Jimin nodded, briefly without words. 

Hanbyul gently touched the back of his hand and added, “I’m truly sorry for your loss, Jimin. I don’t know if I ever said that.”

“You did.”

“Well, good. And please don’t think you or Sun-young are ever a burden when you need help. No one is meant to do everything alone and–” She broke off as he suddenly flipped his hand, catching her palms against his. “--and I’m really happy to be here,” she said, barely a murmur as she stared at their hands. Jimin too, unsure how that had happened. It had been impulsive. It was the wrong move.

He drew in a deep, ragged breath and she pulled her hand away. He shouldn’t have. She was dating his friend. He couldn’t say he regretted it. He should have wound their fingers together, kept her there. 

But what would he say? I care about you more. Quit Jungkook and be with me. I’m sorry I was slow but it’s scary, you see? I didn’t think I could do this again…

He pushed back from the table and she leapt up as Hudu jumped down from her lap. She reached for the dishes but Jimin shooed her away.

“I can manage them.”

The fact she didn’t argue seemed telling. She gathered Hudu’s things into her bag and slid her phone into her pocket and Jimin felt an absolute dread that she was leaving. He knew he’d overstepped with the touch. She had to think so, because it had felt insanely intimate to him, just that moment of their palms touching. Her cheeks flushed and he feared it was with anger.

He started to say he was sorry, but Hanbyul spoke over him with a smile that seemed sincere, “I’ll come by to get Sun-young at 7:30. Don’t argue about it, please. I told her I would so it’s very important to me that I keep my word.”

“All right then. Thank you. Goodnight, Hudu,” he said, scratching the dog’s head. “Goodnight, Hanbyul.”

“Goodnight.”

It felt awkward. He felt it. He’d made her feel awkward, and after all she’d done for him. But he didn’t know what to say to fix it, and he already felt like shit anyway, so this one time he kept his mouth shut and just locked the door behind her.

The apartment felt empty with her gone, just him and sleeping Sun-young left, like the movie had ended and there just credits rolling. There wasn’t even music playing anymore.

Jimin knew he ought to get back to his apartment quickly. It was bad enough he’d had to call in another favor, but it was only fair he cover Hoseok’s classes now that he was sick, and Sun-young had science club, and sometimes things just seemed impossible for a single parent.

But walking past the corner florist made him pause. And think. And think. He was a thinker, a planner, he shouldn’t do things impulsively because then things could go wrong and you weren’t prepared.

But things went wrong even if you carefully planned. Time was unknown and unsympathetic and always running out.

The apartment had just felt so empty without her in it, the chair she’d sat in pulled out as if still waiting for her to take her seat again. He felt like he was waiting for Hanbyul to get home from work. One evening wasn’t enough.  

Was it worth the risk of losing a friendship over? Two friendships?

Park Jimin did something he never did: he let impulse take over.

He bought the flowers, a big pretty bouquet of purple and pink and white because they looked like stars and that was her name. Hanyul: Big Star.

He ignored the mailroom for now, because he was on a mission. He was going to shoot his shot. If it caused a rift with Jungkook… hopefully it could be mended. Probably it would cause only a rift between himself and Hanbyul because she’d be gracious about his unwelcome feelings and then he would lose something that was devastating him to have so little of anyway.

“Hold the elevator!” Jungkook called and dove inside.

For a moment they looked at each other, and then Jungkook’s face broke into a wide grin and he asked, “Who are the flowers for?”

“Sunnie.”

“Ah. Right.” 

They’d forgotten to push the button, so Jungkook did.

“You here to see Hanbyul?” Jimin asked, wishing it wasn’t true.

“Yeah.”

“Ah.” Silence as the elevator shimmied to life. “So uh… that. How did that happen? Is it serious?”

“Is what serious?”

Leave it to Jungkook to make Jimin spell it out, the ass: “You and Hanbyul.”

“We’ve got a real connection. Why do you ask? You in love with her or something?”

Thank fuck for his careful control of his face. 

Jimin gave him a playful grin and assured him, “No, no, I’m just looking out for her. I’m just asking if you’re serious about her.”

“You should fight me for her,” Jungkook grinned back.

Jimin’s expression twitched as he said, “I’m not… I’m not fighting you for her.” Gone was his foolish plan to sweep her out from under Jungkook.

Fuck, what an awful choice of words.

“Well not physically, I’d beat your ass,” Jungkook laughed. “I mean confessionally.”

“What the fuck does that mean?”

“Are you at least going to give her a choice? I mean, I’m pretty serious competition, it’d be pretty hard for anyone to– but hey, maybe it’s your lucky day,” Jungkook said and slapped him on the shoulder. 

“A choice… between us?” Jimin’s heart leapt into his throat with hope. Probably Jungkook was just fucking with him, but if he was actual casual enough to give Hanbyul a no-strings choice… well, would she really choose the single dad over hot young bachelor Jungkook… but… but maybe Sunnie could help him make a powerpoint and she’d find it charming…

Jungkook sighed, “You don’t like that idea? That sucks. Listen, don’t break her heart or anything, ok? She’s a really good friend of mine and–”

“No, stop, that’s what I was going to say!” Jimin forced a laugh, stepping off the elevator after him. “I just wanted to say I’m happy for you and that I–”

“Well I’m not dating her but maybe you should before someone else does, if you’re so bothered by it.”

Before Jimin could fathom a response, Jungkook pushed the buzzer at Hanbyul’s door.

“What, what do you mean you’re not–”

The door dragged open to reveal Hanbyul –in shortie shorts and a t shirt with a faded Minnie Mouse on it and stripey flower socks. Her expression shifted at once from neutral to surprise as she stared at Jimin.

Jungkook plucked a phone charger from her hand.

“Hey Hanbyul, thanks, Jimin’s got something to say to you, bye.”

He promptly turned and walked back towards the elevator.

**

“Uh…”

It took Hanbyul half a minute longer than it should have to realize Jungkook had retrieved his abandoned phone charger and departed. Her attention remained leveled at Jimin’s face in an attempt to not die of embarrassment: she’d just woken up from a gloriously braless and pantsless nap to a message from Jungkook saying by process of elimination he thought he’d left his phone charger at her place and was on his way over. Her offer to leave it at Jimin’s was too late; he never responded and she had time to do nothing but drag on shorts before the buzzer at her door revealed Jungkook. 

And Jimin.

He looked so much healthier after his illness –thanks in part, she hoped, to the soup. He looked even better since she’d seen him, when she picked up Sun-young and walked her to school before peeling off to haul ass to work. 

And then Hanbyul spent the next two days avoiding the Parks because she wanted it too much. It brought her too much happiness to be over there, doing simple domestic things with them like that. It was torture not to kiss Jimin’s flushed forehead and brush his hair back and really take care of him. It was unkind to herself and possibly to Sun-young to let herself get so close to the little girl who did not deserve to lose anyone else from her life.

The recruiter had contacted her via email and wanted to schedule an official interview; he promised to call her soon. Hanbyul had done a freaking out dance around the apartment. Then whipped her bra off and fallen into bed for a stress nap.

And now Jimin was standing at her door, seeing her in this disheveled space, holding out a bouquet of beautiful purple flowers. She did not understand and only took them because he seemed to want her to hold them for him.

“They’re for you,” he explained, as if she was an idiot (she was.) “To thank you.”

“Jimin, I told you, you have to stop thanking me. I’m going to start taking it as an insult.”

“Wha?”

“You didn’t have to get me flowers. But they’re beautiful, so thank you.” She loved how gracious that sounded, as if she could be cool about getting flowers, as if it happened all the time (it didn’t.)

“They’re stars, like your name. I don’t know what they’re actually called,” he admitted, laughing at himself.

“Thank you, I’ll put them in water right away.” She stepped into the apartment, expecting that was goodbye, but Hudu foiled her plan, darting into Jimin’s arms –or maybe Jimin had already wedged his body in to follow her through. That brat (Hudu, but also maybe Jimin.) 

“One second!” she called over her shoulder and disappeared into her bedroom to frantically drag on a sweatshirt. It was going to be weird if she completely changed, wouldn’t it? But she was so unkempt. Would it be weird to put on pants? 

She was taking too long. She hurried back to find Jimin going through her cabinets, looking for a vase. The only one was a heavy crystal thing she had borrowed from her mother a year ago because her mother had been grievously disappointed the visit before that Hanbyul didn’t have flowers on her table.

“Perfect, right Hudu?” He tossed a smile down to the pup, and then over his shoulder at her, and she felt simultaneously like a queen and a bug. He looked like that, smiling at her when she looked like this. It didn’t make her feel better that he’d recently looked sick. He had been adorable.

“I’m glad you’re feeling better,” she said.

“How are you? Not coming down with anything?”

Actually she’d had a slight headache all day and her throat felt scratchy that morning, but she wasn’t going to tell him that and make him feel guilty for accepting the help. It was probably nothing. A sudden onset of spring allergies or something.

“I’m good.”

She joined him at the counter but let him do the work of untying the bouquet, snipping the stems with her kitchen scissors and arranging them artfully in the vase.

“Wow, you’re really good at that.”

“I learned some arranging tricks when I was younger because it was cheaper to buy bulk flowers and make our own arrangements for performers than buying the bouquets.”

Her phone rang –a godawful thing because she never had the ringer on and didn’t even know what it was set to– and she gasped as she reached for it, but it was only her sister so she sent it to voicemail. She couldn’t risk missing this call!

“Ouch,” Jimin laughed. “Who deserved that?”

“My sister… I’ll call her back later.”

“Oh I don’t mean to stop you–”

“No, she’s calling to ask about–” Hanbyul broke off. Was this the sort of premature news one gave a neighbor-acquaintance-friend? “I might curse it,” she admitted.

Jimin raised an eyebrow but kept his gaze on the flowers he futzed with as he asked carefully, “Curse what? Not your um, relationship with Jungkook I hope?”

“I have a job interview– uh, wait, what relationship with Jungkook–?”

“A job interview! A new job? Or the promotion at your current place?”

“I don’t have a relationship with Jungkook,” she said. “A friendship, but that’s all.”

Jimin nodded and smiled. He pushed the vase towards the center of her counter and assured her, “It’s none of my business.”

“Why, did he tell you something else?”

“No, he said the same,” Jimin shrugged. 

“When we went out clubbing he had too much to drink and crashed here. Apparently he takes a phone charger with him when he goes clubbing in case he goes home with someone.” Hanbyul shook her head. She couldn’t imagine leading that kind of life. He had only laughed at her advice: maybe stop having sex the same day you meet a woman if you want deep and lasting romance so badly! Then he’d asked how deep and lasting romance with Jimin was going and she had threatened to block him. 

“That he does.”

“You met someone that night too,” Hanbyul recalled –in painstaking detail. She tried to be light as she teased, “Any exciting dating plans? Someone you met on the app?” She had on the exact same expression she knew she wore when trying to make bad news sound like good news at work to the higher ups.

He hissed through his teeth and admitted, “I haven’t even finished setting up my profile. And if you’re teasing me about who I think you are, she’s on the funding board for a scholarship group my dance school works with so I had to play nice. I didn’t realize you’d sneak away on me.”

“I didn’t sneak.”

“Hm.”

“I was way too drunk to be sneaking,” she admitted. “I don’t go out much like that.”

“Me neither.”

“It was fun though.”

“Would have been more fun if we’d actually gotten to dance,” Jimin said. Hanbyul could have sworn there was a note of longing to his voice.

“You don’t want to dance with me,” she assured him. “I can’t dance at all.”

“That’s ok.”

“No, I mean it. Your daughter suggested maybe I’d do better at yoga and asked if I understand what the beat of the music is.”

Jimin laughed and covered his eyes, “Oops. She’s a sharp-shooter sometimes… But no one is a lost cause. I saw you dancing at club and you did fine. Anyone can learn with a little help, I believe it.”

What were they talking about it again?

“Maybe next time. If there is a next time.”

“I hope there’s a next time,” Jimin said. He looked to the side in thought, then shook his head and admitted, “Honestly I was kicking myself. I don’t know why I hadn’t already introduced my friends to you. Of course you get along with all of them.”

“Why would you introduce your neighbor?” she laughed. Try to keep it light. This conversation felt strange for a reason she couldn’t quite put her thumb on. It felt serious, like an air of goodbye had settled around them in a haze. 

She hadn’t even done the interview yet!

“You’re not just my neighbor,” Jimin corrected. “Ma Gurim is just my neighbor. You’re at least a close friend.”

“At least,” she immediately repeated. 

He looked surprised by his own word choice, panicked almost, and clarified, “Not just anyone will come over and take care of me and my daughter when I’m sick.”

“Get over yourself, it’s not an inconvenience,” she teased to cover the way her heart fluttered high in her chest. At least a close friend.

“Get over myself,” he repeated with a laugh. “It’s true, I have an ego sometimes.” He ran his fingers through those blond locks. 

Her phone rang. What timing! She wanted to follow that train of thought: what did he mean by ego? Why was he smiling like that? He wasn’t flirting with her, was he? He must still be sick.

But interview terror temporarily outweighed Jimin confusion, and she answered her phone before it could ring a third time. Jimin’s eyes got big and he shirked his shoulders as if he shared her excitement and didn’t leave.

The recruiter was straight-forward but polite on the phone. There was interest in her resume and application letter. They would like to meet her for an afternoon of interviews. There would be several rounds for this more senior position, she must understand the selection process was thorough to ensure a good fit, which date from a list of available would work for her? Did she have any professional references she could provide for contact? 

Hanbyul flew around the kitchen but Jimin was the one to find the pen and paper for her. She rattled off two former colleagues she had already messaged about acting as references. She could make the date work –though it worried her, taking time off from her current job to interview, like they would know she was up to something and fire her, and then she might not get the new job, and have no job.

By the time she hung up, her heart was racing as if she’d been interviewed already. She hoped the man couldn’t tell over the phone.

“A new job,” Jimin said. “That’s… exciting.”

“It might be,” she agreed. “If I get it.”

“They’d be fucking crazy to snooze on you. Where is it? You didn’t say…”

“Oh, well the company has several branches. One is here but there’s also one near my parents, in the town I grew up in. My sister’s about to have her baby, you know, and–”

“Right, yes, I understand.” He was nodding a lot.

“So now I have an interview,” she breathed out.

“It can be hard to live away from family,” he continued. “I understand why you’d want to move back near them.”

Yes, there were plenty of reasons to go. She had told the recruiter her childhood hometown was her branch preference. It should be her branch preference. Her parents were getting up in years and she would want to know her sister’s baby. She’d set out for Seoul years ago and what did she really have to show for it? Hudu was not an anchor.

“What made you stay here instead of moving back to be near your parents?” she asked.

“Ah, it was a hard choice,” he admitted. “They wanted me to. Sometimes I’ve wondered if it was the right choice. But I have family here too, so does Sunnie. Subin’s parents are here and I didn’t want her to lose that connection with her mother’s family. But also Taehyung and Jungkook and Hoseok, Yoongi, everyone, they’re here. They’re my family too. We have a home, I have my dance school, Sunnie loves her school.”

“That all makes sense.”

“For a long time I wondered if I just stayed here because it’s where I was before… but this is my life. Everything, almost everyone I care about is here.”

Hanbyul was the one nodding a lot now. She looked at the pretty flowers Jimin had brought her, just to say thanks for doing a thing she wanted to do all the time. She knew with absolute clarity that she couldn’t go into a job interview without knowing once and for all whether she too had a family anchoring her here. For a moment the image of her with him felt so real she could reach out and touch it. She needed to know if the illusion would dissolve at the brush of her fingertips. 

It was crazy to wonder. It was wistful thinking. She was crazy fucking delusional.

But she had to know for sure and if there was nothing, if she was completely imagining the flirting, if he just wasn’t ready or wasn’t interested in welcoming her specifically into his life well… well that was good to know. 

“I don’t have a relationship with Jungkook,” she said, feeling like someone else was speaking the words. “But um, I did date Namjoon for a little bit.”

Jimin’s brow pinched in confusion as he repeated, “Namjoon? You already know Namjoon? When did you date–”

“Recently,” she admitted.

Jimin’s eyebrows raised before he said slowly, “Ohhhh. No, really? You’re the woman who… at the club, that’s why…”

“I guess that’s me.” She twisted her mouth, not sure what to say about Jimin knowing her by action. Why was she admitting this again?! “I, um… it wasn’t serious, at least I didn’t think so. It was nice, I mean he’s nice, he’s a good guy, but it just didn’t…” She gestured, wishing Jimin would finish the sentence for her and read her mind. Alas, he did not.

“You just ended it that day we went clubbing.”

“I’d been putting it off. I sort of didn’t know if there was even anything to end, I mean we weren’t boyfriend and girlfriend or anything, we only went on a few dates really but– I admit, I didn’t handle it well, I should have called it off earlier. I didn’t know what to do because…”

She hated that she couldn’t read Jimin’s mind either. His expression was inscrutable. 

“I have feelings for someone else,” she said and felt like a good ten years of her life drained away with the words leaping from her tongue. She didn’t feel in control of that tongue. “I thought it would be better to meet someone else and move past those feelings.” She swallowed and cleared her throat. Her nose was getting stuffy. “But it didn’t work and it wasn’t fair to Namjoon.”

“This someone else doesn’t return your feelings?” 

She studied his face, desperate to tell if he understood what she was saying. She didn’t think she could be any more transparent, it would kill her. But she had to be. There wasn’t room for error and even though he was watching her so carefully right now, leaning forward, mouth open in that thoughtful pout he had, she couldn’t tell if he understood. She needed him to understand. She could be brave.

“No,” she admitted. “At least I don’t think so.”

“How could he not?” Even just that, even if he said or felt nothing else, Hanbyul felt warmed to her soul. 

Her smile flickered as she tried to joke, “I know, I’m a catch! But I’m still honored just to be neighbor Han–” He stepped forward suddenly and caught her face, cutting her off with a kiss. His lips pressed to hers, the softest caress, softer than her wildest dreams. A second kiss followed, harder, more certain, but still unhurried, like he had all afternoon to spend dragging that plush lower lip of his against hers. He kissed the ten years back into her lungs and then some; she felt sunlight seep from his fingertips into her jaw. She was drowning in him.

“He does return your feelings, Hanbyul,” he murmured, their noses brushing. “He’s just an idiot.”

“He’s not an idiot,” she argued. “He’s… careful.”

“So careful he may have missed his chance.”

What a silly fear from a silly, silly man. She slid her hands slowly up his chest, curious and shy at the strong curve of muscle firm behind the fabric. His neck was so warm beneath her palms. It felt scandalous to touch him so much, to hold him so close, to feel his hands ghost down to her waist, his fingertips nudging her closer.

“It’s not too late at all,” she whispered. “Not unless…” Hudu’s cold nose poked her calf and she startled. Leave it to her dog to nose in on the most romantic moment of her life because he couldn’t stand whispering.

“Unless what?” Jimin asked cautiously, as he leaned away to look in her face. Hudu barked and Jimin’s serious expression cracked into a smile as Hudu leapt up and scratched at his thigh for attention. As if demanding ok now what about me, where’s my kiss? 

God Jimin was even more beautiful up close, and now she knew what those lips felt like pressed to hers, and no words could do them justice. It didn’t seem real. Even his proximity didn’t seem real. It made her forget what she was saying until he threw a toy from the counter to distract Hudu and then pretended like they hadn’t had that interruption.

“Unless what?” he repeated.

“I just told you that I dated your friend. We, um, slept together….” Her face felt like it was on fire from the combination of kiss and confession. Double confession. Not the greatest combination of confessions.

Jimin actually rolled his eyes and sighed, “Yeah, I figured as much, I don’t need a play by play. But I kind of have a past too. I was married and she died. I have a daughter.”

“I know that.”

“And that’s not a dealbreaker for you?”

“No, of course not,” Hanbyul said, not understanding how it could be. 

“Then why would your past be a dealbreaker for me?”

“Well, it’s a very recent past…”

He shook his head, grinning, his earring dangling, and laughed, “I don’t care.”

“Really?”

“I think people are lucky if they get one chance at happiness in life. If I get another chance… I’m not going to let anything get in the way of it. Definitely not jealousy about you dating someone else before me. I can only be mad at myself for waiting so long, right?”

The magnitude of what he’d said was not lost on her. Another chance at happiness. That was… big. Bigger than a little crush, certainly bigger than anything casual thing she and Namjoon had talked about. For Jimin to speak so openly and optimistically about a future with her only moments after kissing her… 

She did it, she stole another kiss. She wasn’t going to let anything get in the way of her happiness, either. 

Then she gasped and laughed into her hand, “God, the first time you kiss me and I’m dressed like this!”

“I like it,” he immediately argued. “It’s cute. You’re very cute dressed like this.”

“I was taking a nap waiting for that call–”

He brushed the hair tenderly back from her face and instantly silenced her. The self-deprecation died on her lips because he looked at her like that. His fondness was transparent. How could she not feel radiant? Surely he’d never looked at her like that before, she couldn’t have missed it. The light touch of his fingers sent a shiver down her spine. Park Jimin was a dangerous charmer and somehow she was the object of his affection.

Impossible.

“Hanbyul,” he said her name lowly.

“Mm-hm.”

“Your face is very warm.”

“I’m…” She trailed off and pouted that he would make her say it. “I’m flustered.”

“I think you have a fever.”

“No, I don’t…”

“Are you sure you feel well?”

“I’m fine,” she insisted. “Really.” He pressed his cold hands to her cheeks and her forehead and her neck and she flinched, the muscles there stiff.

He narrowed his eyes at her and accused, “Did I get you sick and you didn’t tell me?”

“It’s probably just allergies.” She felt a jolt of worry. Would her being sick cause Jimin extraordinary distress because his wife had died? 

He cradled her face. He looked at her so sweetly. 

And ordered, “Get your buns to bed. It’s my turn to take your child for the evening. I’ll bring you stew.”

“But…”

“Don’t worry, I won’t cook it. I’ll order it.”

“You don’t have to.”

“I want to,” he insisted. “And not just because I got you sick but because taking care of you isn’t a burden to me either. It’s what good neighbors do.”

“Jimin!”

He snickered and then kissed her again, as if he couldn’t believe they did that now either. She was completely cowed into obeying his order to bed. He cared about her. He wanted to take care of her. And also to tease her, what a brat! She adored him.

“We’ll talk more about this later,” he promised, brushing his nose against her forehead. “If you promise I’m not too late, I can be patient for a little bit longer.” 

“Is this just a fever dream?” she murmured. Was Park Jimin really saying these things to her?! She felt like she’d hit her head and woken up in a drama.

“So you admit you have a fever.”

“No! Maybe… I’ll get my thermometer.”

She did. And Jimin brought over soup and kept Hudu, like he’d promised. And by the time Hanbyul had finished squealing over the phone at her sister –with very little space for her sister to contribute anything– her voice was shot and her nose was stuffed too much to even sniff her pretty flowers Jimin had brought her.

Did he really mean it, that he cared for her too? What did this mean for them? He hadn’t asked her out but said they would talk more later… Should she ask him out or wait for him to ask her out? Should she ask both of them out? Would Sun-young figure out something was off? Would it be upsetting for her? That child was crazy smart, she would definitely figure something out and ask Hanbyul on the spot and what was she supposed to say? I spiked a fever because your appa kissed me.

Being patient was hard. Harder than Jimin had anticipated. He had thought that kissing Hanbyul and admitting to her that he had feelings would bring him peace but instead it drove him fucking crazy because here they were hovering in this limbo space and she was sick. His fault! She’d cleared caught it taking care of him, and all he could do was take her soup and walk Hudu for her. It wasn’t nearly enough, not compared to how much she had done to take care of Sun-young. Definitely not as much as he wanted to do. He could see her shoulders ached with the fever; how badly he wanted to rub them for her. She was flushed and sweaty and he wanted to brush her hair back –in fact he did, but that felt like as much as he could do for now. 

She’d confessed first. God, he respected her so much for that. He’d definitely been about to chicken out. In hindsight he appreciated Jungkook putting him on the spot, but it didn’t escape him that, secretly, if she hadn’t said it first, he might have run away. He wanted to be brave, he did, but he felt so hopelessly out of his depth here. He didn’t think he could be trying this again with anyone but her, only Hanbyul, because she would be patient if he fumbled a bit. He truly believed that.

But they hadn’t had a chance to talk again because she was sick and he had promised to be patient, and he didn’t want to pressure her in case she took it back, if he harassed her. It scared him for her to be sick. He would be inclined to hover. He didn’t want to scare her off already.

Because now that this door was open, maybe open, if Hanbyul meant what she said and hadn’t just been delirious with fever… 

His heart raced every time he walked by Hanbyul’s door. When he buzzed to ask if Hudu wanted to go out again, he felt like a tongue-tied teenager again. 

Sun-young seemed to just accept that they’d been taking Hudu on walks for the last two days as if it was something they’d always done. She held Hudu’s leash and led Jimin on a path around the park that was clearly familiar to her and Hudu both.

“This is where unnie goes when we walk,” Sun-young informed him as they set out on a bigger circle of the park. “We go to the cafe and she buys me hot chocolate.”

“Hudu goes in with you?”

“He’s a very good dog,” Sunnie assured him, which of course he knew.  Jimin suggested they go, since she was clearly leading him there anyway, and listened with bemused interest as Sun-young told him facts she’d learned about dogs from a book at school, and how dogs were bred for jobs, and how she wondered what job Hudu was bred for.

“I think he’s a mutt,” Jimin said.

“That’s not very nice!”

“No, it’s not an insult. He just isn’t a purebred.”

“So?”

“No, I know, it’s not a bad thing,” Jimin insisted. “But purebreds are the dogs who were bred for a specific job. Mutts just… happened.” Because animals will be animals…

“Well I think Hudu would be very good at a job,” she said, and crouched down to scratch his ratty brown fur. “He can do anything he puts his mind to.” Hudu looked thrilled at her praise and nodded and licked the air in front of her, tail thumping against the pavement.

“Just like you.”

“That was cheesy,” she teased. “I wish Hudu was our dog.”

Jimin swallowed and nodded and casually suggested, “Well, he’s our good friend’s dog, so it’s kind of the same.”

“It’s not the same at all. If he was our dog he would live with us but right now we have to go all the way down the hall to see him.”

“Mm-hm,” Jimin hummed. Yeah, tell me about it. He knew it was too soon to talk to Sun-young about this thing that might be happening, that he might be going to date Hanbyul. He didn’t know what that meant, much less could he explain it to his daughter. It might mean nothing. Hanbyul might change her mind. They might go out on a few dates and she’d decide it wasn’t working. He didn’t want to get ahead of himself, just because he was excited. Having a girlfriend wasn’t like adopting a dog, you didn’t just fill out some paperwork and they were yours forever.

“Appa why is your face all red?” Sunnie giggled. Yah, because I thought the word ‘girlfriend’ about Hanbyul. It was stupid to feel so giddy about it, like some deep slumbering part of him was creaking to life. They hadn’t even gone on a date yet. Hudu snipped at buds pushing through the ground in the flower beds lining the sidewalk and that was exactly how Jimin felt. He was waking up. Hanbyul made him feel like he was blossoming after a long, very hard winter.

“I’m just cold,” he muttered. 

“It’s not cold at all,” she insisted, and did a little spin on the sidewalk. It killed him how graceful she was and turning her back on dance but it was her choice. OK. He was living with it. “Hey we should start planning the rice cakes you signed us up to make for the fundraiser, huh? Do you know what science demonstration you’re doing yet?”

“Not yet. Let’s get hot cocoa to warm you up,” Sunnie suggested. Jimin wondered if that was what Hanbyul usually said; the phrase struck him as odd coming from his nine year old daughter. 

Hudu was pulling them that way too, so Jimin went along for it. She was right, it wasn’t that cold, it was actually very beautiful out this early April evening. Hanbyul liked winter but he knew she liked spring too, she would love walking in this right now, just as the cherry blossoms were reaching their peak. It was criminal she was stuck inside.

“Maybe if Hanbyul feels better this weekend we can see if she’ll go on a picnic with us to see the cherry blossoms,” he suggested.

“Because you just want her to cook for us?” Sunnie gave him a stern glare.

“What? No! I’ll cook.”

“You want to make her sick again?!”

“Hey!” he scowled, and pinched her cheek. She giggled and batted him away, but then grabbed his hand and wrestled with it before there was actually any space between them. He wrestled right back as they waited for the light and Hudu leapt around them, yipping like he was tattling. Jimin won by wrapping his arm around Sun-young and pulling her into his side for a stolen hug which she, breathlessly, conceded.

“Didn’t we go on picnics to see the cherry blossoms with Eomma when I was a baby?” Sun-young asked.

Jimin froze.

“We’ve gone other years,” he said slowly. Yes, it had been an annual tradition, as it was for most families. They’d missed the year after Subin died, because he couldn’t handle it. Maybe they’d missed the year after too? “Seokjin and Namjoon went with us last year.” He watched her as they waited, anxious about why she had thought of going with Subin and not with their other friends after he’d suggested it with Hanbyul. Had she already picked up on something special about Hanbyul going along, about his maybe budding relationship with Hanbyul? Was she already feeling like Hanbyul was encroaching on Subin’s place as her mother?

“Uncle Seokjin is a good cook too,” Sunnie mused. “If you invite him and unnie and Uncle Yoongi we can eat so much.”

Jimin laughed awkwardly. 

How the fuck was he going to talk to Sun-young about Hanbyul? He ought to wait until things progressed with Hanbyul, until he was sure she was sure there was a future there. This could be deeply distressing for Sun-young, him starting to date. Especially someone Sun-young cared about so much. It could ruin her relationship with Hanbyul, she could lose another very important person in her life if it was too soon for her. The progress he’d made with Sun-young could be undone. This thing that he wanted so badly might be the worst possible thing for his daughter… He couldn’t do anything to hurt her… Maybe a counselor could help? He was selfish, he wanted it all, but he also genuinely believed Hanbyul would be so good for Sun-young. Fuck, was he getting ahead of himself? But they were a package, he couldn’t be with someone who wouldn’t be a positive force in his daughter’s life, who his daughter didn’t absolutely love–

“Appa aren’t we going to cross?” Sun-young sighed noisily and then laughed at him as he hurried to lead her and Hudu across before it changed. He was sweating now. Was it better to wait to say anything until he and Hanbyul had been dating a while or was Sun-young going to figure it out no matter how they tried to hide it and be hurt he’d tried? But she was a child. But what if she was mad. But obviously he couldn’t tell her something like this when nothing had even happened yet, and might even not happen if Hanbyul thought better of it before he managed to ask her out.

“Ok Hudu, be really good in here,” Jimin warned the dog, despite Sun-young insisting he knew how to behave –as if implying Jimin was the wild card here. 

It was a cute little cafe, just a nice little local place, not too busy but busy enough to be a reputable place. A curved green awning hung over the door and there were cherry blossoms painted on the window. The decor was simple and clean, dark wood in the seating area and crisp white around the counters and coffee machines.

Sun-young marched right up to the line at the counter, Hudu’s leash tighter around her hand to hold him close, like she must have seen Hanbyul do. It was sweet, seeing this glimpse into what Hanbyul and his daughter did without him. 

When it was their turn, the older woman at the counter smiled at Sun-young and asked, “Oh, you’re not with your eomma today?”

A jolt ran through Jimin. He was used to this –people questioning where his wife was, other mother’s asking to speak to Sun-young’s mother, teachers assuming Subin would be the one to volunteer for class things. But worse, he realized with a shock that the cafe woman thought Hanbyul was Sun-young’s mother. This preyed instantly on the fears he had just been living, as if the universe reached down to pluck them out of his brain and bring them into the real world.

“Oh, I–” Jimin began just as Sun-young chirped, “This is my appa! Can we get two hot cocoas?”

Jimin was stunned by the graceful way she evaded the question and only nodded along as Sun-young picked out two pastries as well, and then led him to a table by the window, explaining, “We like this table the best so we can watch people in the park.” Hudu curled up beneath Sun-young’s chair and waited patiently for her to pass down a spoon of whipped cream. She sang, “Who likes whipped cream? Who do? You do, Hudu!”

Jimin blew on his hot cocoa and tried to find the words.

“Um… Sunnie, you handled that very well,” Jimin eventually mustered. He watched her closely, waiting for any sign she was distressed at this reminder of the fact she didn’t have a mother, or confusion around Hanbyul’s role in her life. 

Sun-young looked thoughtful before laughing, “I thought you meant giving Hudu whipped cream! You mean ordering our drinks? I was practicing what to say before we came in here because unnie orders for us but she tells me to order sometimes too.”

“No, I meant… the confusion from the woman about Hanbyul…”

“Oh that’s nothing. People think unnie is my eomma a lot,” Sun-young informed him. “Well, not a lot, but sometimes people in the park or here think that.” She looked at the ceiling thoughtfully a moment, licking whipped cream off her upper lip, then asked, “Are you mad I didn’t tell her the right thing? I usually tell people the right thing but if you tell someone who doesn’t really know you that your mom is dead, they feel really bad about it. I didn’t want to make the woman feel bad when she’s just being nice. She works here a lot and unnie always talks to her.”

Jimin curled his hands around the cup and insisted, “I’m not saying you have to say anything. I know exactly what you mean.”

“You do?”

“People don’t know how to respond when you say something sad, like that your eomma is gone. It’s thoughtful of you that you didn’t want to make her feel bad but it’s ok to correct them still, even if it makes them feel bad for a moment.”

“Oh. You wanted me to?”

“No, I mean that… I don’t want you to think you need to go along with something that makes you feel sad or bad just to not make the other person feel a little awkward,” he rephrased. 

“It didn’t make me feel bad,” Sun-young said. She set her cup down and had a dollop of whipped cream on her nose which she tried to get off with her tongue before giving up and using the back of her hand before he could find a napkin. “She just doesn’t know me. Why?” Suddenly Sun-young looked worried. “You think it’s bad?”

“No no. You’re right that she doesn’t know you. I just meant it’s ok if it does make you feel sad, or if it bothers you for someone to think Hanbyul is your eomma and you want to correct them.”

Sun-young stretched her tongue out to get whipped cream off the edge of her cup before saying, “No, I don’t mind.” If he didn’t know any better, he’d say she was far more interested in whipped cream than this conversation.

“No? Ok…”

“Sometimes she kind of acts like an eomma anyway,” Sun-young continued. “Like she does some things my real eomma would do if she was here.”

Every muscle in Jimin’s body clenched.

“Is that… ok?”

Sun-young couldn’t have looked more casual with her cheek on her hand as she scrunched her eyebrows and answered, “Yeah, why not? Then you don’t have to do everything.”

“I don’t mind doing everything.”

“You can’t do everything,” Sun-young insisted and gave him a look like he ought to know this. “It’s not that I like her more than you, you’re still my appa. But she’s a girl too and she does some things differently and I think it’s better having her around.”

“Yeah?”

“I get to see her so much lately, I mean until she got sick but you said it’s just a cold.” She gave him a quick look like a sudden fearful thought occurred to her.

“It’s just a cold,” he confirmed. “She got sick coming over when I was sick.”

“How did she get sick from you?”

“Hey that’s what happens with contagious colds,” he quickly insisted, afraid where her questions might lead her. “I didn’t do anything, that’s just how germs work. Just like it’s not your fault I got sick after you were sick. You’re into science, don’t you know about germs?”

“A little bit.” She began to rattle off things she knew about germs, peppering him with questions, so clearly unbothered by this entire conversation. Jimin felt himself start to thaw out. Surely it wouldn’t be that easy. It had only been a few years since Subin died. Sun-young’s feelings could change quickly if Hanbyul actually became a more official presence in her life. She was a little girl with such a little girl understanding of the world and relationships…

But she was growing up too. Maybe he was underestimating her. Again.

Once their pastries and hot cocoa were gone and Hudu was getting restless, Sun-young asked, “Maybe we should take a brownie home for unnie so she’s not sad we came here without her.”

“That’s a good idea. Do you know what she likes?”

“Definitely.” Sun-young made the selection, and the woman packed it up carefully, extending her sympathies when Jimin explained Hanbyul was sick. He didn’t fix the misconception earlier. It was wrong not to. He perpetuated a lie. He was pretending something, trying it on, something he didn’t have any right to yet. 

He felt the twinge of discomfort in his heart. Were things moving too quickly? Was it too soon? He had promised to love Subin his whole life, and now here he was letting this cafe woman believe that Hanbyul was his wife, Sun-young’s mother, all the things that Subin had actually been.

But alongside it was this fresh, slightly raw, new feeling. Like maybe those clothes could fit in time. Not yet, it was foreign and uncertain and scary but… but maybe he could get used to it. If Hanbyul could be patient with him

He had a feeling she would be.

“Maybe you can get unnie flowers too,” Sun-young suggested as they passed a woman selling bouquets on the corner as they crossed back to the park.

“I gave her flowers just a couple days ago.”

“Really?”

“Uh… yeah, you know, to thank her for helping out so much while I was sick. But then she was sick so I don’t think she can even enjoy them. Her nose isn’t working.”

“Maybe you should just ask unnie out on a date again.”

Jimin thought for sure he’d misheard her. He tripped on the curb as Hudu leapt ahead, barking at a squirrel. Sun-young dropped the leash and cried out, but Hudu immediately stopped and trotted right back, waiting patiently for Sun-young to pick the leash up again.

“What did you say?” Jimin asked, clearing the cough from his throat.

“Don’t you like her?”

“Hanbyul-ssi?”

“Yes.” Sun-young looked up at him with her big dark eyes, waiting expectantly.

“Of course, what’s not to like about her?” he returned, trying to sound casual.

“I know, and I think she likes us too and you already took her flowers so… I think it’s backwards? But I don’t really know anything about dating. I think you take her to see a movie now,” Sun-young suggested. As if she was really scraping her knowledge here to help her poor old appa who didn’t know anything about dating.

“You… would be ok with that?”

“I guess you can see a grownup movie I’m not old enough to watch anyway.”

But Jimin desperately wanted this permission that chance and the strange wandering mind of his daughter had brought him, so he pressed, “You would be ok if I went on a date with Hanbyul? If I… if we spent more time with her?”

“I know what dating is,” Sun-young scoffed. “I know when we went to see Mango Crush  it wasn’t even really a date because I was there so this time it can be just the two of you.” Jimin walked slowly, taking Hudu’s leash to pull him closer as some bicycles whizzed past and a bigger dog barked loudly. Hudu didn’t like it and stuck closer to Jiminn’s leg. He was thinking of what to say next.

Instead Sun-young asked, “Do you think it’s weird because it’s not eomma?”

“Weird isn’t the word I was thinking but… maybe. Do you think so?”

“No,” Sun-young said. He thought that was a strange answer and didn’t know whether to trust it.

“I miss your eomma every day,” he continued, “and I haven’t wanted to think about meeting someone new. No one can ever replace your eomma. She loved you so much. I loved her so much.”

“I know that.”

“So I just want to be careful. I don’t want to do anything that makes you and me sad. It’s hard to lose your eomma. It was hard for me to lose my wife.”

Sun-young pursed her lips in thought and it broke his heart, having such an adult conversation with a little girl. It was wrong what he’d said before. She didn’t have a little girl view of the world; she’d had to grow up very quickly in some ways. He just wanted to protect what little girl remained.

“I miss Eomma too, I wish she didn’t die. But I like doing things with unnie too. Is that ok?”

“It’s definitely ok.”

“Then why is it weird?”

“Just… because… I don’t know. Maybe it’s not weird,” he admitted because he didn’t know how to explain his complicated feelings and maybe he didn’t need to. If Sun-young didn’t have a hard time holding both Subin and Hanbyul in her heart, maybe he didn’t need to make it weird for her. If her feelings changed, if she felt different lately, well, they would work through that then. 

“Yeah, don’t make it weird, Appa, and don’t try to be funny and confuse her so she doesn’t know you’re asking her out. Unnie says when you are communicating something important, you have to be firm and clear and believe in yourself.”

“Are you… giving me advice on how to ask her out?”

“Yes!”

Jimin glared and assured her, “Don’t worry, I’ll figure it out. I’ve done this before.”

“With eomma? But that was so long ago.”

“Hey!”

“When we get home you can take Hudu and the brownie and I’ll run to our apartment so you have privacy,” Sun-young suggested.

“I’m not asking her out today! She’s sick!”

“But if you wait, Uncle Tae might ask her out! I think he likes her too.” 

And Namjoon and Jungkook Jimin internally grumbled.

“Don’t you worry about it.”

“Maybe I should help. I asked her out for Mango Crush.”

“Sunnie,” he stopped her right outside the building. “I’ve got this.”

She clapped her hands together and agreed, “That’s good, Appa, believe in yourself. I think she likes us a lot, I think she’ll say yes.”

He did not ask Hanbyul out, despite Sun-young’s eager questions as soon as he got back from returning Hudu and delivering the brownie. He tutted her away. Now he wondered if it would be better for her not to have known for a different reason. She might overwhelm Hanbyul. She might make Hanbyul feel rushed or pressured into something she didn’t actually want.

No, he had to trust Hanbyul in making her own decisions. He believed she would. And his heart did feel lighter about it all knowing he had Sun-young’s shockingly full support. 

Instead he waited until Sun-young had gone to bed to make the last phone call he needed to before he’d feel free to take the next step.

“Hey, Namjoon! I don’t want things to be awkward between us so I want to be upfront with you about my feelings for Hanbyul…”

Previous Chapter | Masterlist | Next Chapter

[ay0nha]

PLEASE do a gojo x old flame reader

maye she's on the run and gojo finds her and charms her, I don't know if this makes sense but basically she is onpar with gojo but doesn't like jujutsu and gojo and her don't get along because of that

Word Count: 700

A/N: I hope I did you justice! just a little blurb about how I think this would go down...willing to do a part two if anyone is interested! Comments always welcomed and encouraged.

“You’re hard to find, you know…” Gojo hummed with interest. He hid his surprise well; he hadn’t expected you to be here, in the flesh tangibly.  “Had to go off a rumor… ” He paused. “I have to say, though, I wasn’t expecting this…”

Your hand was steady, pistol pointed at the back of your intruder’s head. Anyone should know better than to listen to the rumors that floated within the Gachinko Fight Club. It was a mistake that you created ones that swarmed your image. 

But your wrists itched. 

It was as if phantom threads tethered you down. When the knots tightened due to resistance, you became a marionette for those who put you in your place. You’d move with talent as a puppet controlled by those ranked above you. 

Your exhaustion had created a silly—delusional— image in your head. Your cheeks were rosy with red paint, and your eyes brightened with Pierrot-styled tears. You performed on a stage silently, an alienated observer of the mysteries and shadows of sorcery.

You took on a second life, reciting an alert, troubled, swaying, and deliberately uncertain verse. It didn’t matter if the audience understood; they considered what you said genuine art. Then, when it all ended, the standing ovation wouldn’t bring you the joy you thought. 

In other words, you grew bored of the act. You were tired of the shadows consuming your days. You itched to stretch your power. And now you were here, leaving residuals behind like a novice for others to track. 

“Hakari never mentioned you were here.” Gojo turned to face the barrel, a soft smile present. His hands were clasped behind his back, chest forward with enthusiasm. 

“I’ve had a really long day—” You cocked the gun. It was a superficial barrier, you knew it would have no effect and primitive in its purpose. “—get to the point, Gojo.” 

“You’re distracted.” All six eyes focused as Gojo spoke honestly. He cocked his head immaturely, inspecting you closer. “You fight with feeling, I’ll give you that, but you lack…assurance. You’re holding back.”

“I don’t have time for fan service.” You frowned. The more you pushed forward, the more resistance you were met with. “Why are you here?”

Your lip throbbed, newly bruised and busted from the spat you were just in. It had been a rigged match. If you went down, more money went into your pocket. It wasn’t long until another fight called your name. This time, though, your built-up frustration would find catharsis. The spectacle would draw in the cash. You’d put on a show for non-sorcerers, and you knew you’d receive that standing ovation.  Again, it didn’t matter. You didn’t fight for your audience; you didn’t even fight for yourself. You weren’t sure what you were doing, but it alleviated you.  

You paused in thought. Your eyes scanned the man before you. Satoru Gojo. He was here for something. For you. There was always a catch, never straightforward truth. 

“Can’t I visit an old friend?” His shrug carried simplicity. 

“No.” Your finger twitched on the trigger. “If you’re here to kill me, get it over with.”

This made Gojo’s humor stutter. It was in your nature to think the worst of him, but it was never easy to swallow. There was a simpler time when you would have blindly followed him, not needing an excuse for his presence. But your skin crawled with something unspoken. 

So, he turned serious. “I need your help.”

“You, of all people, can’t be desperate enough to need something.” You pushed. You were growing agitated, buried feelings resurfacing. “What is it you want?”

It was obvious. He needed, no—wanted—your technique. All you could think was how hypocritical. People aren't tools. We aren't born with any set role. Gojo had consoled you once. And yet, here he stood, asking the impossible of you. 

So, you pulled the trigger and ran. 

[festivalsofmargot]

hello:))) can i request garreth x reader and what he would do for their one year anniversary? like he wants it to be very special and sweet and romantic because she’s the love of his life :) thank you!!!!

Freckled Serotonin

{Garreth Weasley x GN!Reader}

Got this pic of Garreth from Rimaeternax on twitter!!! 

Word Count: ~ 2,900

Warnings: Kissing, Fluff

Author’s Note: Thank you for the request, anon! Didn’t realize how much I enjoy writing lovey dovey dates haha. I had way too much fun with this one 🥰 A good lack of angst here, you and Garreth have a very healthy relationship and you’re going to like it dammit lmfao. Take some time for yourselves and turn off your brain. Hope you enjoy guys, have a good day 🤗

Songs (if interested):

My Love - maye

watch you sleep - girl in red

we fell in love in october - girl in red

STARSTUD - Matt Watson

Garreth twirled his wand between his fingers as he made his way to the dining hall for breakfast. He was deep in thought of what to do for your one year anniversary the next day. The main plan the two of you had was to go to Hogsmeade for some butterbeers, but he wanted to do a bit more than that. He was worried you’d get bored of him by the end of the night if that’s all you did. He had tried to ask what more you wanted to do, but you were insistent the butterbeers and being with him were enough for you. Ever since, he’d been racking his brain for ideas on what he could surprise you with.

He spotted you in the dining hall standing near the Hufflepuff table, speaking with Poppy, Everett and Natty. He was starving but he couldn’t not see you first. He came up behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist and setting his chin upon your shoulder. “Morning.”

You turned your head slightly to look at him and brought your hand up to caress his cheek. “Ah, there’s my boy.”

Merlin, he loved it whenever you said ‘my’ while referring to him. “What potions do you need today?”

Your hand slid to the back of his head as you thought, gently ruffling his hair, making his insides go wild. “Hmm, do you think you could make me...” You made a clicking sound with your tongue as you counted off in your head, “...three thunderbrew potions?”

“Three?” He kissed your cheek and pulled away. “I sure do spoil you.” He turned to your group. “Does anyone else want a kiss and a cuddle this morning?” 

You, Poppy and Natty cackled. He always felt a sense of triumph getting a laugh from you.

“I’m tempted to say ‘yes’, you asked so nicely.” Everett jested.

“Oh Everett, how long are you going to act like you don’t want me?” Garreth plopped down on the bench next to him and threw an arm over his shoulder.

Everett shook his head, but looked amused all the same. “I don’t know how you put up with him.” He said, staring up at you.

“I do what I must for free potions.” You smirked.

“Don’t know what I’ve done to deserve such cruel treatment from everyone this morning.” Garreth gave you a wink as he got up, then headed to the Gryffindor table, pinching your side as he passed.

-

Garreth was working on your thunderbrew potions during his free period in Professor Sharp’s empty classroom. You leaned against the doorway as you watched him measure out the ingredients and scribble off items written on his parchment. His robes were off and he had his sleeves rolled up, giving you a tantalizing view of his forearm muscles. 

You loved his goofy, outgoing personality, but Merlin he looked so alluring when he was absorbed in his brewing. Garreth really was talented when it came to potions, but he had the most fun experimenting and trying new things.

You went up behind him and wrapped your arms around his waist like he did to you that morning, except your grip was a good bit tighter. 

“Can I help you?” He asked without taking his eyes off of his station.

“What are you up to?” You were being cheeky, peeking at the cauldron before him.

“Trying to make your potions.” He knew he made you go mad when he was engrossed in his work, he could keep up the act if it kept your hands on him. It always turned into this game of you trying to distract him and him trying to stay focused. He adored it. “I need to get more shrivelfigs. Do you mind?” He gestured to your arms around him.

“Not at all.” You tried to bite back the smile as you tightened your hold on him.

“You’re impossible.” Garreth sighed as he made his way to the ingredient shelves, you kept your hold and matched your footsteps to his. “Do you want your thunderbrew potions or not?” He tried to chide you but his chuckles came through. He’d always give off that he was annoyed when you had these bouts of clinginess to him. But, truth be told, they made him feel wonderful. 

There were times when it would be tough to see you with how busy you were, it was why he was so dedicated to brewing any potion you needed. He knew you could just as easily make your own, but if he made them it could keep you connected. There was always a lingering worry that a distance would grow between the two of you and you’d come to realize you didn’t need him for anything. Every bit of reassurance he got was intoxicating.

Garreth grabbed a few shrivelfigs out of the jar, then went back to his station with you still on him. “You keep this up, you’ll be brewing your own potions.” Please don’t call my bluff. Please don’t call my bluff.

You bit at his shoulder and his knees went weak. “But, I have so much fun watching you do it.”

“Well then let me work!” He laughed.

You pressed your lips to the spot you bit. “You can work like this, can’t you?”

“Don’t you have a Crossed Wands match to get to?” He asked as he picked up his ladle and stirred the pot.

You groaned and rested your forehead on his back. “Nothing gets passed you, I see. I thought you were supposed to be the troublemaker.”

Garreth set the ladle to the side and turned in your arms. He took your face in his hands and pressed his lips to yours. His stomach did a flip when he could feel you smile into the kiss. He stood strong, but he was one step away from being putty in your hands.

He pulled back, still cupping your cheeks and looking over your flushed features. He hid his giddiness with feigned vexation. "Happy?”

You smiled at him, staring at his lips. Heat swirled in him witnessing how blatant you made it that you wanted him. Tempted, he returned to your lips for more, kissing you deeper this time. The feel of your tongue gracing his bottom lip caused something to snap in him. One hand moved from your cheek down to your hip and he fisted the fabric of your uniform. His other hand slid to the back of your head, the hunger for you growing. He tilted your head so he could begin feasting on your neck.

You bit your lip to hold back the moan he was teasing out of you. Then a sizzling sound caught your attention and your eyes fluttered open. You thought the bubbles from the pot looked a little too big. “Garreth?” You said his name breathily, but he kept at your neck. “Garreth. The pot.” You said a little more stern, yet still unstable at his touches.

“Hmm?” He pulled away just enough to look back. “Oh dammit.” He released you and went to begin stirring with the ladle again. He threw in another drop of leech juice and that seemed to bring everything back to normal.

“How are you so good at brewing?” You moved to his side and stroked a finger slowly down his arm, causing a tingling sensation to course through it. 

“On no you don’t.” Garreth got behind you and gripped your shoulders, pushing you out of the classroom. “You’re nothing but trouble, go on to your Crossed Wands match so I can finish up here.”

You gave a dramatic sigh. “Fine. But don’t think you can get rid of me this easily tomorrow.”

He wouldn’t say getting rid of you in that moment was ‘easy’. Once he got you out the door, you followed his wishes and went on your way. You glanced back at him over your shoulder and waved him goodbye with your fingers. He leaned against the doorway and watched as you left. 

Love of my life. His heart squeezed at the sudden words that formed in his head and he rubbed at his chest. Before he could really think on those words, the sizzling sound started up again. “Shit.”

-

Garreth looked over himself in the mirror as he finished buttoning up his vest. Was this enough for your anniversary date to The Three Broomsticks? Or worse... was it too much? He thought it over and decided to tone it down and roll up his sleeves how you liked. You were always out for some assignment until the last minute, most likely you’d be disheveled in the standard uniform when he met with you. He clenched his jaw at the thought, he really liked it when you were disorderly like that.

He waited at The Three Broomsticks and spoke with some other students who were hanging out there. He didn’t know them, but he was the kind of person who could walk into a room and make friends with anybody. Where did his confidence go when it came to you? How did you manage to put such worrying thoughts of not being enough for you in him? You never made him feel anything of the sort, but you were the most capable person he’d ever met. He couldn’t believe he piqued your interest, especially when he had such a disastrous first impression that included a potion exploding in his face and getting you in trouble with him for it.

He felt someone touch his elbow and he turned, meeting your eyes. Just as he predicted, you were in your uniform, tie loosened, top buttons undone, shirt untucked on one side. He made himself stand up a bit straighter, trying to hide the fact that his nerves were in a frenzy at your state.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t have time to clean myself up. Are you mad?”

“Livid.” He grabbed your hand, nodded his head goodbye to his new friends, and pulled you towards a table in the back of the tavern. Before the two of you sat, he wrapped an arm around you. He pulled you close and said in a low tone near your ear, “You should know by now I prefer you like this.”

It was a good thing Garreth had such a strong hold on you, because your body went weak, swooning at his words. You felt him step away all too soon and he pulled out your chair.

“I’ll go get us some butterbeers.” He said as you sat and he pushed in your chair.

You rested your chin on your palm and watched him. He leaned against the bar, chatting easily with everyone around him. Ever since the fwooper feather incident, you’ve been sweet on him. Garreth’s energy was so addicting and it seemed like every person he met felt the same. 

You didn’t know how he did it. You could never talk to people as easily as he did, made you wonder what he saw in you. Not only were you much more of a quiet person, you were constantly out working on assignments, returning to campus profoundly unpresentable. Even after a year you still found it difficult to believe you were able to land him. 

You were mortified at the thought of meeting him tonight in the state you were in, but you would hate yourself even more if you arrived late. Your original plan was to show up and assure him you’d be right back after you cleaned up, but the second he looked at you with those beguiling, green eyes, you didn’t want to leave.

Garreth returned with a butterbeer in each hand. “I felt you eyeing me that whole time.” He set one in front of you and took the seat opposite you. “Now, I know I’m a striking young man, but please do have some self control while we’re out in public.” 

You grinned like a fool and pulled the butterbeer closer to you. “You are pretty nice to look at.”

He took a sip of his butterbeer so that the foam would cover his lip like a mustache. “Alright, I’ll let it go this time. But you can’t keep embarrassing me like this.”

You let out a snort, then shot your hands up to cover your face. He was instantly charmed. Unable to keep up his little comedy act, he wiped away the foam. Letting out a few chuckles of his own, he watched proudly as you struggled to quiet down your laughing. 

He got up and moved his chair closer to yours. He sat back down and rested his arm on the back of your seat. “Tell me what I got to do to get that sound out of you again, I’m begging you.”

Finally getting your laughter under control, you removed one hand from your face to smack his chest. “Don’t act like that did something for you.”

“Ow!” He laughed, grabbing your hand and holding it captive against his chest.

Your time at The Three Broomsticks went on with him trying to get more snorts out of you, your hands stroking each other’s thighs under the table, and absent minded kisses.

“I’ll go get the next round.” You stood up from your seat and Garreth stood as well, grabbing your wrist before you could go.

“Actually, I have a surprise for you.”

You tilted your head, raising a questioning brow at him. “Oh?”

He nodded his head and offered his arm. You took it and squeezed, greedily feeling up his bicep.

Once the two of you were out of the tavern, you leaned your head against his shoulder and sighed. “Garreth, you didn’t need to do anything. We could have stayed at The Three Broomsticks all night and I would’ve been happy.”

He frowned and shook his head. “You would have gotten bored of me.”

You cackled. “Oh, definitely.” You looked up at him when he didn’t laugh with you and saw he was staring ahead, jaw tight. “Wait, were you serious? You... think I would have gotten bored of you?” You halted your steps and gently tugged at him to stop and look at you.

Garreth only looked down and rubbed the back of his neck, not knowing what to say. You had never seen him so unsure of himself.

“How could I get bored of you? You make brewing potions interesting, I could watch you do it all day. In fact, I’ve tried plenty of times, but you always gave me the boot. If anything, I thought you were getting bored of me.”

He met your eyes then, and shook his head. “Never.” The look on his face told you he meant it, and a touched smile graced your lips. His heart rate picked up. “I love you.” He blurted, feeling a wave of bashfulness. He shoved his hands in his pockets and kicked the dirt at his feet like a child. “Just... thought you should know.”

Your lips parted slightly in shock, something fluttered in your chest so harshly you thought it would burst out. “You do?”

Garreth nodded his head, darting his eyes back and forth from your face to anywhere else, the wait for you to say something back making him more anxious by the second.

“Sorry, you... caught me off guard.” You chuckled, rubbing at your face hoping the burn from your blushing would go away. “But, I love you too.”

As soon as you said it back, his confidence came back soaring. He also took a smug pleasure in seeing how fidgety he made you. He wrapped an arm around you and pulled you along with him to a dark, nearby alleyway. He glanced around to make sure no one could catch a glimpse of the two of you. Once he felt the coast was clear, he pinned you up against the nearest wall and narrowed his eyes at you. He brought his mouth to yours. He wanted to kiss you until you couldn’t think straight. 

He brought his hands up so they were tight on your hips, and you cupped the back of his neck. You always had a terrible ache for each other when you kissed, but this need was on another level. There was more of an urgency this time.

He got lost in you and couldn’t help it when his lips strayed to other parts. He went along your jaw, nibbled at your earlobe, then began sucking at the crook of your neck. He usually would get a giggle from you when he did this, telling him to stop so he wouldn’t leave a mark. But this time you didn’t say anything, staying compliant at the feel of his mouth. 

Everything about him in that moment was making you excitable. “Wait, what's the surprise?”

He pulled back slightly, “Hmm? Oh, it's a um...” He pinched the bridge of his nose trying to focus on your question, “... a chocolate frog cake I ordered at Honeydukes. We can get it later.” He returned to your neck to continue putting his marks on you. 

It hit you then just how hungry you were. Butterbeer could only fill you up so much and you hadn’t eaten anything since before you went out on your assignments that day. “Garreth, I hate to say this. I really do, but can we stop this for now and go get that cake?”

He pulled back with his eyes closed tight, trying to regain his composure. “Fine. But we’re picking this back up after.”

[not-handsome-enough]

DICK KNUBBLER MAYE STILL BE ALIVE

Kinda

Alright before I do anything take this with a grain of salt, cause it’s probably a continuity error / can be easily explained away BUT if you all would like to hold onto some hope please just hear me out. And also it offers a question for yall.

Alright! So!

On twitter someone had asked Brendon and Gene about Murmaider III and its placement on Dethalbum IV ( which btw shoutout to Gene’s wife that was brilliant ) and Brendon had mentioned that what sets 3 apart from the other two was that it was more dreamlike, and that it was made AFTER Army of the Doomstar. Now since Brendon and Gene weren’t the ones to make the order on the Album we can’t set a timeline for the songs ( though they are set in Brutal to Dreamlike order once again shoutout to Genes wife you goddess ) we can at least say that some songs were made post Army. In fact we could also make some assumptions about what songs were made DURING army. So I’ll separate that list here.

NOTE : YALL DONT NEED TO READ THIS PART THIS IS JUST ME RUNNING WITH “ some songs were made post AOTD which ones could they be teehee “ JUST KNOW MURMAIDER AND SOS WERE AFTER KUBBLER DIED OK SORRy I’m not deleting that whole thing I like it

Songs with “ * “ are canon, the rest are personal interpretation.

DURING ARMY OF THE DOOMSTAR:

* Aortic Desecration ( the first song of salvation but obviously not )

* SOS ( song of salvation )

Gardener of Vengeance ( Nathan directly references this during the scene where he confides in the band and Knubbler that he doesn’t write songs about hope and he’s just doing what he knows. I believe he wrote and recorded this but felt it wasn’t good enough to be the song of salvation and moved on. HOWEVER the language he used could place this as post AOTD because it sounds more like a thrown out there example kinda like how he figured out SOS in the cave )

Poisoned By Food ( Again I think this is a scrapped song of salvation since besides the actual poisoning of food a lot of the imagery feels like the what the metalocalypse was described like )

BLOODBATH ( guess what another scrapped song of salvation. This one feels like a ‘you don’t scare me I’m going to confidently stop you because if I go down you go down with me’ song. Also it could be Nathan trying to reach out to Magnus since he was one of the people on his list. Also quick note I’m going song by song so I don’t know if I’ll notice if any other songs would reflect the list I just got out of work so I’m not gonna catch it all rn )

Horse of Fire ( this is tricky because lyrics like star still blazing allude to this being written before aortic desecration but also Nathan didn’t have the talk with the whale until the deadline came up in which he had to go with aortic desecration <he wouldn’t have had time to write about the fist or the hand.> But the lyrics don’t have the <we should reach out to the fans> revelation that SOS has. Maybe this was a draft for SOS but I think once Nathan figured out what SOS was meant to be it just came to him naturally. I’m not sure. HOWEVER since the doomstar is referred to as a star that is still blazing and not a portal that’s been destroyed it’s safe to say this is not post AOTD. Either way this is an important song to keep in mind if you look at this speculating )

POST ARMY OF THE DOOMSTAR:

* Murmaider III ( stated by Brendon Small in the interview. He said he feels that the boys would have written this after AOTD and based off of interviews he’s had in the past about his songwriting process it’s hard to not take this as canon so. )

DEADFACE ( I think this is post because while the song plays during the movie only Skwisgaar knew about the possession so the lyrics wouldn’t quite make sense yet. It’s a tricky placement but I can see Skwisgaar playing around with it since he does play the notes during the movie )

Mutilation on a Saturday Night ( this feels so much like a we survived so now we’re gonna party song I can’t see Nathan Skwisgaar or Pickles make an argument for this being a Song of Salvation. Also all the fucked up shit they talk about references what happened during the metalocalypse but it’s spoken in past tense like a ‘hey we fucked shit up but we fixed it so now we’re just gonna keep fucking around haha’)

I am The Beast ( simply cause I don’t see this as something Nathan would write during AOTD but the ‘ I am a beast this is my domain and when I speak you scream my name ‘ could work as a salvation line but it feels too much like a Mutilation Saturday Night ‘I can write whatever I want cause I lived and I’m not gonna hold back’ vibe )

Satellite Bleeding ( this feels like the first song they would have written and recorded after the doomstar died. Kinda like watching the sky clear up after a storm. )

Now despite me rambling on about this I would like to draw attention to what’s canon. Specifically SOS and Murmaider III. These songs came out after Knubbler died. Yet Dethalbum IV credits Knubbler for production.

Drawing your attention to how crediting in the Dethalbum works, each album has a little section for Dethklok to get musical credits and thank whoever and whatever. There’s also production credit and location credit. On ALL of the Dethalbums Knubbler is credited as producer. Cause he’s the producer makes sense yeayeyaeyah. But whenever there’s a change in location or production, there’s additional credits.

ANOTHER NOTE: I DONT HAVE THE KLOK OPERA CD I HAVE NO IDEA WHAT THE CREDITING SYSTEM LOOKS LIKE ON THERE but if someone happens to be selling that cd outside of eBay please let me know

Let’s look at them.

Dethalbum I ^

Shit ton of credits right, and on the other page which I didn’t take a picture of and can’t because I’m not home at the moment there’s credit to Snakes N Barrels for “Kill You” with each member listed. Take note that songs that are considered exceptions are credited differently and locations not at Mordhaus are credited.

I lied I have the other page. For those without the dethalbum cds the actual credits are usually on another page and “Kill You” got mixed in with it

Anyways

Dethalbum II

Hey Knubbies gets to thank someone this time! Anyways once again Knubbler is credited for production, but also Dethklok. Keep this in mind. Also the fact that different location credited for Murmaider II but it’s recorded at Mordhaus

Dethalbum III

Knubbler credit AND Abigail credit along with Dethklok AND once again location credit is Mordhaus and another fuckass place. Only thing that’s not really credited is Magnus with The Hammer but idk if he was like Toki and William where they play the songs but don’t really write or if he actually wrote The Hammer. I’m not a HammerHead, I’ve seen people interpret him as both, but at the end of the day idrk.

So what about Dethalbum IV

Knubbler is credited. At Deus Keep. Only Knubbler. Only at Deus Keep. “But he’s not credited as a Producer” True! If the album was released in universe it would probably be a producer credit. Especially since Brendon and Ulrich have Producer credit on the page prior. Maybe it’s because Knubbler didn’t make it to the final production stage. Or maybe he’s staying hidden undercover..

Remember earlier. He canonically was not around for two of these songs on this album. He could not have recorded OR mixed SOS or Murmaider III. Even if you don’t fully think that Murmaider III was made Post AOTD, SOS was done post Knubbler death. Hell, the song was dedicated to him by William! But there’s no separate credit for SOS.

If we went on the same basis as previous albums SOS would have been credited to that part of Norway where they traveled to that I forgot the name of and I’m not gonna look up but you get the point. Or even Dethklok would have been credited as production. I could also say something about how Murmaider III wasn’t recorded in the Mariana Trench and how the whale isn’t calling to Nathan anymore but that’s for another day. Right now though, it’s just Knubbler. Just Knubbler and Deus Keep.

Which leads to 3 possibilities.

Knubbler Lives: Knubbler survived ( the flashing things on the ground were teleporters ) and Deus Keep is rebuilt. To celebrate their survival they make Dethalbum IV but don’t release it

Knubbler Died: The band recorded the last few songs on the album at the remains of Deus Keep. Knubblers presets aren’t changed so credit remains to him. Once again not releasing it.

It’s not an album: Dethalbum IV doesn’t exist in universe. That’s why there’s no producer credit. That’s why Nathan doesn’t thank the klokateers ( he thanks the army of the doomstar which is just him thanking fans ). Dethklok recording it post AOTD is more to do with how Brendon records dethalbums than in universe writing.

I like to think that this is just an unreleased album in universe since the record label is more than likely destroyed, but it has the possibility of releasing one day if society is rebuilt to what it once was. But it really depends on if you think the album is canon to the universe. Cause there’s no Mordhaus credit on Dethalbum IV and there’s no way for SOS to have been recorded at Deus Keep and blablabla

something fun to think about tho yk?

TLDR: two songs on dethalbum IV were made after Knubbler death yet the credit doesn’t change for him in the dethalbum so there’s a chance that he recorded and mixed those songs cause he is alive and well horray

[hearted-anon]

heyy, I recently discovered your blog and I must say it’s gnarlyyyy! This is totally random but do you think I could request lee! Minho and ler! Seungmin? I love 2min. It’s not a demand x have a gday maye

Dogs or cats?

Words:741 Note: AHH ITS NOT THAT GOOD :( T/w: none, cat is just tired Lee: Know Ler: Seungmin

"Are dogs better than cats-? Cats, obviously." Minho muttered under his breath, scrolling through various comments on a new video they had posted. The oh so exciting video where said interesting question was extracted from was one with both Seungmin and Lee Know in it, better known as 2Min. As the melody of the song they danced to echoed through the studio, which Lino thought was a great choice to do, he read the mix of words their fans had said for them, was when he found it.

"Never." He heard a snappy voice interrupt his calm train of thoughts. He wondered how anyone managed to find him, definitely not because there was music blasting from his phone loud enough to wake up the dorms if he moved an inch closer to the exit door. Glancing at the mysterious member that dared deny his claims, he noticed it was none other than Kim Seungmin. Of course he would deny Minho's obviously righteous thinking, cats were better than dogs, no matter what.

The cat and dog had a glaring contest, their claws and paws kept behind their back, ready to strike should there even be a hint of an opening. With a loud bark, which was really a soft grunt, Seungmin launched himself at Minho, pouncing onto his prey. Minho let out a shriek of a war cry, tumbling to the floor with the puppy as they wrestled playfully on the smooth wooden floors of the studio. Squeals of banter and yells of sarcastic insults filled the room, the two playing in their own world as if nothing else mattered, as if time stood still, the grains of sand in an hourglass stopping in their tracks whenever they had fun together.

"Admit it! Dogs are better than cats!" Seungmin insisted, pushing at the cat's invading hands that tried to wrestle him onto the couch. For now, the younger had the easy upper hand being atop Minho, but he knew it was as clear as day it wouldn't be long before the older got the upper hand, naturally being physically stronger.

"No! Cats are better- ARGH!" Minho's comeback was shortened when hands stopped resisting his, making him feel suspicious. Seungmin wasn't one to back down easily with a hard resolve, he was planning something.

Luckily, or unluckily, Minho had guessed it right, feeling fingers wiggle their way into his armpits. The cat shrieked of the sudden jolt of electricity that shot through his body, cackles spilling freely from his mouth from how surprised he was. The puppy was lucky in that vulnerable opening to say the least, not having to worry about revenge when the older's arms clamped to his sides.

"CHEHEHEHATER! YOHOHOU CHEATER!" Minho howled with laughter when Seungmin kneaded into the centre of his armpits, arching his back off the couch before crashing back down in ticklish agony.

"There were no rules against this hyung, now tell me dogs are better." Seungmin deadpanned, talking in a monotonous tone as if he wasn't tearing the cat to shreds in laughter.

"NEHEHEVER! YOU BRAHAHA- NOHOT THERE!" Minho tried his best to protest, but with choices come punishment. Fingers dug right into his waistline, making him throw his head back in hysterics. Instead of trying to even wrestle, at this point the older was just desperate to pry the younger's invading fingers off him.

"Never? Then I'll go forever." Seungmin chuckles lowly, sinking his thumbs deeper into Minho's v-line, making him shriek in laughter.

"STOP IT! NAHAHAHA!" Minho squeals and shakes with laughter when lips found their way to his neck, blowing hard on the sensitive skin. He falls into the couch with a cry, tears welling up in his eyes. He was rendered useless, a dog toy for Seungmin's entertainment till he couldn't take it anymore.

"FINE! DOHOHOGS ARE BEHEHETER THAN CAHAHATS!" Just like that, everything slowed to a stop. He felt a weight lift off him, literally and metaphorically. He pants and gasps, tears resting well on his lashes prettily. Seungmin nestled himself upon Minho's lap, cuddling him cosily.

"See, there are many benefits to dogs than cats." Seungmin happily boasted, Minho grumbling in protest. Nonetheless, he sank in when the puppy rubbed at his hair soothingly, fighting back the smile to keep up with his cold demeanour that melted away under Seungmin's warm hold.

"Mhm, but you have ten seconds to run once I'm awake, cats are sneaky predators after all."

[seeingteacupsindragons]

Apparently by "later" I meant, like, five minutes. I should filmed the box opening because I kept making comments, but here we are.

The Goods:

I tried to be conservative, a little.

This one wasn't blind; I knew it would look like this. It's a mirror. No, I don't wear makeup. I wear contacts; that's enough justification, right?

Anyway, onto the blinds. First ones I opened were postcards that I'm going to keep and treat as bromides instead of postcards. These were the options:

And what I got.

I pulled these left-to-right and honestly after I got William, I was hoping for Louis, but this is fine, too. I don't get blinds unless I'd be happy with all the options.

Next were keychains of character eyes from the covers. They're in black and white, but they have little plastic gems and colors at the edges.

I opened Moran first and it was wrapped in red stuff and I was like "William?" but I could see the black gem so I was like, Okay, no, that's Moran. And, hello, Moran.

Then I got to Louis, which had a red gem, and I was thrilled at the idea of William to match him, but I could see the purple, so was a little confused until Louis popped out. Maye the gems match the eye color?

These are acrylic and I already have two metal YuuMori keychains on my keys, so I don't think I'm going to use these at the moment. I don't think they'd hold up well.

Next! Locket charms with characters portraits from the covers. These were wrapped in plastic inside the blinds and closed so I had to work to see who was in them.

Not bad. I do like Bond and Herder. No dupes yet, but also no Sherlys.

And then, uh.

Coasters. So. I did order 5 of these, even though there were like, 52 some options, because what was I gonna do with 52 coasters? But turns out they came in packs of 5, so I have 25 now, and 6 dupes.

Anyhow.

This was a good start!

Lots of Albert in this pack.

Annnd we're starting to dupe, but still a good selection. I love that Louis, and I got Bench Sherliam.

More good stuff.

More dupes.

So here's my collection of dupes. Not sure what to do with them at the moment. They're cardboard-y? I'm not sure I'd put something wet on them, but they might be sturdy enough for that.

I could sell them???? For??? Not a lot, probably. Or do a giveaway, maybe? For...something? I don't know. They're not bad dupes, at least, although I know people probably care less about the Patterson one.

I also discovered I accidentally cancelled my calendar order somehow and had to replace that, so we'll see when that shows up.

[acourtofsnakes]

The Aftermath - Freefall, Chapter 6 || The Bad Batch x Jedi!Reader

Summary: You thought things couldn't get worse after the Order, but as your friends slowly didappear one by one, you find yourself teaming up with a radical, until your boys find you. But are you safe at home?

Warnings: 18+, swearing, injuries, descriptions of violence, canon fighting, fear, loss, death, blood, canon violence and weapons, nicknamed reader (Ghost), Order 66

A/N: We are back guuuuuys!!! As usual, this section of the series is still 'in the past', following on directly from the previous chapter! We'll back to the present very soon, with all the storylines linking back up!

Series Masterlist | Series Playlist | AO3

You wished you hadn’t come here. 

But you wouldn’t be anywhere else. 

Not when Padmé needed you, all of you. Yet perhaps the one she needed most was the only one to break her out of this sickness. 

But he would never be reached now, not after what happened. Not after Mustafar.

You couldn’t even key into the Force for answers, or peace, because all you could feel was death and destruction and chaos. 

It grated on your nerves, ran claws down your spine and hissed in your ears, making you hypersensitive to every single noise, every smell, every stitch of clothing touching your skin. 

The more you thought about it, the more aware you became, until your breathing became uneven and sharp and you couldn’t escape the awareness of it slipping into your consciousness. 

Oh, what you wouldn’t give for those long fuzzy creatures on Myrkr, the adorable unique tree-dwellers called Ysalimir. They were able to create a sort of bubble around them, in which the connection to the Force was cut off to the point not even a Jedi could access it. 

Sometimes it did feel like a limb being cut off when you couldn’t get to the Force, but in times like this, where everything was too close, too loud, too there… Maker, you’d dive headfirst into a group of them right now. 

A ragged breath escaped your lips and you resisted the urge to plunge one of your lightsabers through the head of the nurse who breathed just a little too loudly in your direction. Your hands curled into fists, nails biting sharply into your palms but even that didn’t stop the feeling of bugs crawling over your skin, bands wrapping around your chest - 

Warm, slightly calloused fingers gently wriggled their way into your hand, carefully pushing under your nails until they held onto your hand, slowly enough you could push them away if you didn’t want it. 

But you did. 

A little sob escaped your chest as you stayed watching Padmé through the glass, and you curled your fingers back tightly around Obi-Wan’s hand, clinging to him, an anchor. You felt a caress of the force, his own presence soothing all the rough edges of your own and helping you settle a little, even though his own signature was in complete and utter agony over what he’d had to do to his brother. 

So you gripped his hand tighter, pressing your arm into his, relaying that comfort even as tears ran down your cheeks, “She has to get better, Obi… She has to.” Yet even as you said it, you knew that even if she did, she would never recover from the pain of losing Anakin. She’d never stop hoping and looking for the good in him, and it would torture her until… Until the end.

You knew this with a startling clarity because you were exactly the same. If it were any of the boys, you would die before you gave up. Even now, you believed that there had to be some hope for Anakin, that he was still in there. 

Maybe if Padmé recovered, maye they would both survive…

“I know, I know…  But I fear that the medical droid was right. She’s simply given up. She…” Obi-Wan shuddered softly, guilt flaring high in his signature, stinging the air around you. “Perhaps if I had listened, if I hadn't acted as a member of the Council, as a master, but as a brother, none of this would be happening as it had.” Obi-Wan’s hair fell over his forehead, his entire posture slumping more and more with each word, his composure in as many tatters as the Force itself. “Such destruction and devastation.” He breathed those last words, bowing his head, as if he could retreat into himself - or as if he were waiting for the blow of retribution. 

Seeing his pain, feeling how broken he was made it hit home that all of this was real. That it wasn’t some terrible dream. 

With every minute that passed, you were losing more and more of your loved ones. 

You drew in a shuddering breath, turning away from the sight before you to instead look at Obi-Wan, “Enough.” You chided him gently, but firmly, “This is not your fault, Master Kenobi. None of this is. This… This destruction was at the hand of the Emperor, not you. Do not allow him to win further by shouldering guilt.” You squeezed his hand again, knowing the words wouldn't soothe him - they wouldn’t soothe yourself if the situation was reversed - but he needed to hear them. 

Obi-Wan sighed, lifting his head slowly, as if it carried the weight of the galaxy. His eyes, so flat and lost, tracked over your face, reading the same agony and guilt, the same desolate emptiness of knowing you two could very well be the last Jedi left in the galaxy, “I forget how young you are sometimes when you say such wise things like that.” The faintest of smiles touched his lips fleetingly, “You’ve always had a determination I admired, a stubbornness that could rival An - his.” His face twisted in pain momentarily, but he recovered himself a moment later, but you saw the momentous effort it took. 

“You never allowed what others thought to shape you… I know how hard it’s been to not let their words sink in, but you’ve always proved yourself to be even more than they thought, that you were your own person and not what they believed you to be.” He hummed faintly, thoughtfully, “Another balance between two sides.” 

Something tingled at the back of your mind, an awareness that Wrecker always said was your own version of ‘Hunter-senses’. Whatever it was that Obi-Wan was getting at… It meant something. 

You were certain you’d heard something like this, the talk of someone who was both light and dark and could bring balance, back when you were younger and were sneaking around the Temple rather than being told off for not being able to focus.

Before you could ask however, the monitors and holograms surrounded Padmé began to wail and beep frantically, flashing up with symbols you didn’t understand - but the sinking feeling in your belly did. 

Obi-Wan’s head snapped up and he stepped forward, “What’s happening?!” He made to move further, but you were all being ushered out by the medical droids, hastened from the room as voices clamoured over one another and the beeping became louder and more persistent. 

The door swiped shut behind you, Obi and Bail, the hallway jarring in its stillness compared to the frantic bustle behind it. 

And all you could do was wait. 

~~

You felt it, maybe hours or even just minutes later. 

Everything fell still, silent. Bail was called in, and then Obi-Wan, into the room that suddenly felt like a tomb, the spectre of Death hanging over the doorway.

It was clinging to you, dragging skeletal claws over your bones, the lingering touch of all those Clones, the aching spaces of all the lost Jedi, your best friend shrouded in darkness - and now Padmé. 

You barely registered the hallway floor beneath you, the walls blurring past, faceless people scolding you for running, a voice that could have been Obi-Wan or Bail calling for you - none of it mattered. 

You only stumbled to a stop inside an empty room when an echo of agony ripped through your chest, so raw and potent it felt like your own heart was being carved out. 

The Force was screaming in response, the Light in shreds already, but that thread of the Dark that always wound through your soul… That’s where you felt it strongest. 

Rage, guilt, loneliness, agony - He’d felt it too.

He knew she was gone. 

And there would be no chance of redemption for him now. The one thing that could have helped, the person that was almost guaranteed to get through to him somehow was gone. 

It was all gone. 

Your friends were most likely dead. 

Ahsoka… Had Rex and the 501st turned on her? Had she been forced to mow down the legion which was more family than mere soldier?

Your boys… Had they survived? 

You couldn’t bear the thought of what would happen if they hadn’t. 

So despite the crippling grief wracking your body, you knew you had to keep going. Keep doing… Something. Because if you didn’t… Well. 

It was likely you never would.

“Hey, you got that crate of supplies for me?” A man who’s name you still hadn’t remembered motioned to the box in your arms, reaching out for it when you were close enough.

You nodded, letting him take it from you, “It’s one of the last ones, we’ll need to do another run soon, we’re low on med supplies and we still have a few children who are sick.” 

In all fairness, the kids would be fine. You’d been healing them with the Force when noone else was around and they were asleep, even if tapping into it did still hurt… And that voice whispered to you whenever you did. 

The man nodded, already crouched down to rifle through the contents, “Let Saw know, he was talking about organising another one soon.” 

That would be Saw Gerrera. 

Your current, if only temporary.. Partner? Company? Whatever it was. 

Since Padmé, and the Order, you’d drifted, unable to stay still for too long lest the thoughts and memories came crashing back down and reminding you of what you’d lost. 

You’d spent days in a stupor, travelling under darkness with the hood of your cloak pulled down low over your head, barely noting faces and places and you sought passage to whatever planet you could. 

The Empire was crawling around everywhere, but you donned the abilities of your nicknames, able to slink through shadows and slip past scrutinising eyes. 

You stayed low like Hunter had asked, feeling the weight of your silent comms grow heavier and heavier with each day that passed and it remained silent. 

Day by day, the loneliness and hopelessness slithering closer until you couldn’t stand it any longer and formulated a plan.

To help. 

Whatever, wherever, you were going to help people rebuild after what had happened and try and do something good. 

Something to keep the balance Obi-Wan had mentioned. 

Because with each of those silent days, the shadows slipping under your skin seemed to grow stronger, the dance of lightning shimmering across your knuckles in the dead of night when the nightmares both old and new found you. 

One foot on either side. A balance.

You might still have a foot in shadow and a foot in light, but it felt as though the galaxy had shifted on its axis and your weight had begun to lean to one side over the other. 

So when dreams of your boys being turned into mindless monsters, of Rex killing Ahsoka, punctuated by Anakn’s screams, chased you from sleep, you moved. 

Way back when the worst thing was the Separatists, you’d gone with Anakina and the others to Onderon, helping Saw Gerrera and his band of activist free the planet from the clutches of the Separatists. 

You knew he was still there, that instinct telling you that was the place you needed to be to help.

So you followed. 

And it was on the way here that your comm had beeped to life, pinging through an encoded message in the frequency and code worked out between yourself and the boys should you ever need to communicate privately.

“Ghost, we’re okay. Whatever happened, whatever that was, it didn’t affect us. We don’t know what it is but we’re safe. Are you? Tech registered a ship leaving the planet after that transmission but we didn’t know if you were on it. Let us know where you are and we’ll come for you.” 

The earth-shattering relief that they were okay had brought to your knees, the fact that something had stayed good, that you hadn’t lost everyone. They were okay. They were alive. And they weren’t slaves to whatever Sidious had done to them. 

They were alive and they wanted to come for you.

And yet… Something held you back from responding. 

Something… vicious. That growing voice.

You were a walking target, no longer a Jedi Commander, best friends to General’s Skywalker and Kenobi, to Commander Tano and Captain Rex. 

In this new, upside down world… You were the enemy. 

The chatter you had heard hid this ‘Order 66’, instead labelling the massacre as a Jedi rebellion, claiming the people sworn to be the peacekeepers of the galaxy had handed in their honour for cold-blooded murder and the clones had been forced to fight back and do their job of protecting the galaxy from threats. 

And that was that. 

Temples were torn down, burned, raided. Those that remained sealed themself up, turning into relics of the past when they should be beacons for the future. 

Jedi who had slipped through the cracks in the carnage lined wanted boards and lit up the pucks of bounty hunters, both old and young. 

Even the children, those who had just discovered the gift that should be a blessing, now had a noose around their neck and a target on their back. 

How could you bring the boys into that crossfire? 

If they weren’t murdered alongside you, they;d be tried and executed as traitors for helping you and working alongside you. 

As much as every cell in your body craved to be with them, to be back by their side, protecting them as fiercely as they would protect you.. You just couldn’t sentence them to death. 

Or bring about the realisation that they weren’t under the same control as their brothers. 

Not to mention the gradually reducing control you seemed to be experiencing over this ‘balance’. 

There was too much risk.  

So you ignored the transmission. 

And the next one. 

And the one after that. 

//”We haven’t heard from you yet, so we’re assuming it’s not safe for you to respond. That’s the only reason I’m believing. We’ll find you and we’ll get you safe.”//

//”Please, Ghost. Please just give us something. Anything. Just a sign to let us know you’re still out there.”//

//”Something is wrong here. The regs are even more off than usual, there’s been a shift-up in command and training has increased. Crosshair is even more on edge than usual, and we seem to have acquired a friend.; A young girl, Omega. You’d like her, she’s stubborn like you and keeps us on our toes.”//

//”We miss you, Ghost. We can’t lose you. I can’t lose you.”//

//”Please.”//

Everyday had brought a new transmission, the latest being this morning. 

You sighed as you keyed it off, kicking a rock like it was the cause of all your problems and booting it across the dusty ground would ease the longing in your heart.

“You’re going to have to answer whatever you’re avoiding at some point, you know. You can’t run forever, trust me.” The husky voice of Saw Gerrera appeared from your left as you rounded a stack of crates, not really paying attention to where you were going. 

You shoved the comms back into your cloak pocket, looking up at him with a raised eyebrow and what you hoped was a neutral expression, “I’m well aware of that, Gerrera. I don’t need to be reminded.” The words came out with more bite than you’d originally intended but… Whatever  Better to be on the offensive lately. 

Saw’s eyebrows raised a little and he held his hands up in surrender, “Easy, I wasn’t starting a fight, just offering advice.” He cocked his head, observing you with a stare that was far too knowing and intense, making your skin prickle.

You scowled at him, resisting the urge to cross your arms, “What? Why are you looking at me like that?” You were grateful that he was allowing you to stay here and help, but there was something about him that was too intense, too… extremist. His reasons were there but his actions… They rubbed you up the wrong way. 

But where else did you have to go?

He ran a thumb along his jaw, eyebrows lowered in thought, “I know what you’re doing. Why you’re acting like this.” He didn’t give you a chance to argue, merely continuing in a level, even voice, “But you can’t keep biting at people just to push them away. You need your friends, the ones loyal to you. Especially now. They can help you, Ghost. They can keep you safe. We’re thankful for you here, but -”

“In case you haven’t been around lately, all of my friends are dead.” You spat the words at him, defensive anger immediately crackling to life, tingling in your veins and you tried to will it back into slumber. 

Saw rolled his eyes, planting his hands on his hips, “Clearly not all of them, or are you receiving coded transmissions from beyond the Force now?” He didn’t even bother to keep his voice down, reckless fool. 

You growled, stepping closer and you pointed warningly at him, “You can’t be saying things like that, I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Your cold gaze flicked between his own eyes, “Have you been spying on me, Gerrera?” Anyone who knew you would immediately recognise the danger in the softness of your voice, something you and Crosshair had both been famed for. 

The softer the voice, the faster you better turn tail and run. 

The man before you didn’t back down, merely straightened his posture, muscles coiling in case you finally decided to snap. “It’s my job to keep these people safe, Ghost. No matter who they are, or who they were.” Clearly referring to you being a Commander, “Like I said. We’re thankful for your help, but if these friends of yours are going to come looking for you, I can’t risk my people.” 

A scoff escaped your throat despite your emotion, “Hang on, a moment ago you were giving me a pep talk about being with people who’ll keep me safe, and now you’re worried I’m going to hurt your people? Which is it, Saw? You want me gone for my own good, or gone because you don’t trust me?” 

So much for controlling your anger. 

Saw huffed, his chest rising and falling with the movement, “Look, I don’t want a fight. I just need to know I’m not going to have any trouble here. We’ve built too much and we’ve prepared too much to risk losing it now. The fight is nowhere near over, it’s even more important than it was when we fought the Separatists. This galaxy deserves peace, don’t you think? Can’t you of all people see that?” He stepped closer, his voice softening to the tone you knew he used on people to coax them to his side, “Isn't that what you were trained for? To allow people to live in peace and safety?”

Too far. 

You squared up to him, head tilted back to stare him down, “Let’s get one thing straight. I may have helped you all those years ago, and I might be thankful to you for helping me in return now; But do not think that gives you any right to comment on my past. Or my future. Or anything about me, actually.” You didn’t even blink, didn’t even care that his people were looking over, some of them pushing the younger ones behind them, “And for that matter, stop trying to encourage me to join you. I appreciate what you’re doing, and I’ll help here in camp but I’m not joining you. I’m not joining anyone.”

Saw was about to open his mouth, but awareness danced down your spine, signalling someone’s approach. 

Seconds later, you heard footsteps. Six pairs of footsteps. One set unfamiliar, but the other five…

“Not even us?” 

~~

Hunter watched as your head snapped round to face him, fast enough he would have feared for your spine had he not known you. 

He watched the emotion play across your face, shock, guilt, surprise, adoration. Your eyes narrowed, tracking carefully over each of his and his brother’s faces, and he could tell from the slightly unfocused look that you had tuned into the Force… Perhaps to see if that Order had affected them too… But then, complete and utter relief. It was so potent on your face, he nearly ran to you right then, had he not suddenly had at least ten blasters trained on him. Which in itself was nothing, they’d faced far worse odds, but he wasn’t here for a fight. 

“Clones?” Saw spat the word, yanking his own blaster free and he levelled it square at your face, “Your friends are clones? The Empire?!” His face was one of defensive fury, before the mask slipped over and he was impassive and watchful. 

Hunter’s fingers twitched on instinct, but you merely rolled your eyes, lifting a hand and knocking his blaster from your face “They don’t work for the Empire, Gerrera. And neither do I, despite what your prejudices are telling you.” 

The man you’d passed the crate to before scoffed, moving closer to the Batch, safety clicking off, “So what are they doing here then? You told us you were untraceable.” He narrowed suspecting eyes at you before looking back at the boys, particularly Crosshair, as if recognising him as the most lethal.

And with that expression on his face, he certainly looked it. 

Tech pushed between Hunter and Wrecker, one finger nudging his glasses up, “Actually, Ghost was correct. She was virtually untraceable. However, that would be by anyone else’s skill set. I, on the other hand, have been genetically engineered to have skills far beyond that which the average person has therefore in this case, Ghost was -”

“Tech! I think they get it, brother.” Hunter raised a hand, patting Tech affectionately on the shoulder before looking at Saw, his eyes straying to you now and then, unable to stop looking, checking you were okay. 

You were alive. 

You were alive and whole before him… At least in the physical sense. He could tell with one look, and by the way you kept avoiding his direct gaze that the events that had happened over the last week or so had left a wicked bruise, one that would take a while to heal. 

“We aren’t here to cause any trouble, Gerrera. We… We were sent here, yes. But under false orders. What we were told and what we’ve seen… You’re not a threat. At least not the one the Empire made you out to be.” He looked across at the children hidden behind adults, “You’re not causing trouble, you’re just trying to live.” 

Like they were. 

Crosshair scoffed from behind him, his gun clicking as he reflexively loosened and tightened his grip on it. The distaste and displeasure was rolling off of him in waves, jaw set and honey eyes almost black in the low pitch of the camp. 

Hunter knew he was in for a sniping match later, especially after Crosshair’s insistence before coming down here. 

“Make the order, Hunter. I have a clear shot.” 

“Crosshair, there are children there. And they’re just… living.” 

“We have orders. We were told to eliminate them, and that is what we are here to do. Tell me to take the shot, now.” 

“Just wait, Crosshair.”

“Hunter.” 

That had been when the hair on Hunter’s neck stood up, his senses perking their head, as if sensing a storm… And then there you were. Helping Saw’s men, your armour hidden beneath that billowing cloak.

You were alive. 

Saw barely moved, his eyes tracking across everyone, noting the fact your hands were ont he hilts of your twin blades, even if your posture seemed relaxed, “Okay, okay. Here’s what’s going to happen.” He nodded slightly to his men, who lowered their blasters after a seconds hesitation, “You said you were sent here to stop us, but you changed your mind?”

Hunter nodded, brows still low and body still tense as he waited to see where this went, “Yes. Like I said, you’re just trying to live.” He didn’t remove his fingers from his own blade, not quite yet. 

Not whilst you were still staring down the muzzle of Saw’s blaster.

Saw nodded again, eyes flicking to you then back to Hunter and the other boys, “You seem smart, Sergeant. You know the corruption of the Empire, and the lies they tell you.” His tone shifted, blaster lowering and shoulders pushing back, “we could use a squad like yours in the fight ahead. The fight for what is right. For freedom.” He lifted his chin again and his men backed off, beginning to load up the last few supplies, “We’re heading out. Do whatever you feel is right, but I hope you make the correct decision for yourself and the future of the galaxy.” With those final words, he levelled a glance at you, making you bristle and your eyes harden but you just rolled your eyes and crossed your arms. 

No one said a word as Saw’s men began to move, but Crosshair stepped forward, his hold still tight on his rifle, “Are we just going to let them walk away? Hunter, you heard Tarkin. They’re insurgents. They’re a danger. They need to be eliminated.” His eyes were fixed on the retreating group, so focused that it had you stepping forward into his line of sight.

“Leave it, Cross. I agree that they’re.. Radical and I don’t agree with their methods but Hunter is right. They’re just trying to live and make their way in all this mess. The Empire has bigger problems, surely.” Your jaw tensed at that remark, the fact its well known that the Empire were hunting down any escaped Jedi or Jedi sympathisers. 

Crosshair’s eyes flashed when you moved in front of him, when you agreed with Hunter. Something predatory crossing his face, like he still hadn’t forgotten that argument outside 79’s before all this, “Well, if Hunter says so, it must be true.” He spat out his toothpick and began to stalk back to the ship, agitation rolling of him in waves so strong you didn’t even need the Force to feel it. 

You sighed as you watched him, unfolding your arms, “He’s really not happy with me, is he. Still.” 

Tech looked over at you, lifting his visor up to the top of his helmet, “Crosshair has always had a starker sense of right and wrong, he doesn’t see the in between. That part of our training always stuck with him the most, I believe.” 

Wrecker shrugged, cracking his neck, “He just needs to shoot something, that always cheers him up.” He laughed and then trailed after Crosshair, helmet perched on his head.

Tech shook his head at his brothers, looking over his shoulder again at you, something more tender touching his eyes, “It’s good to see you okay, Ghost. We’re glad to have you back.” His hand reached out to touch your shoulder for a second before he followed Wrecker.

A smile graced your lips as you watched him go, his words cementing the fact that you were back at home with your boys… 

But then it faded, that voice whispering that you were still a target. What if you brought the Empire down on the boys heads? 

They were heading right back to them after failing to complete a mission… That was already enough to put them in the crossfire surely. 

Hunter’s broad form filled your vision, his finger touching your chin to bring your gaze up to his own, “I know that look. And I know what you’re thinking.” He tilted his head slightly, eyes focused on yours, unrelenting, “I know you didn’t answer our comms because you were afraid you’d bring danger to us.”

You should have remembered that he’d always see straight through you, “I am going to bring danger to you, Hunter. I can’t linger at the sidelines waiting for you like I used to. They know me at Kamino. They know I was a Commander. If they even catch wind that you’re seen with someone who fits my description…” You dragged your eyes to the side, to a spot over his shoulder. 

It broke Hunter’s heart, seeing you so unsure, doubting yourself like you used to when the words fo the Council would dig their claws too deep in you. What you’d been through since the Order was called… It had shaken something loose in you. “Ghost, you’re one of us. You will always be one of us. No matter whether you have a bounty on your head or not, you are part of this squad and we will all protect you.” He ducked his head to the side to catch your gaze again, “I will protect you.” 

He was right, of course. 

You always fit into the squad of ‘defective’ clones more than you had anyone at the Temple, save for Anakin and Ahsoka of course. There was a reason Rex always joked that you were the missing member of Clone Force 99. 

Despite the turmoil in your chest, you couldn’t stop the smile that lifted your lips as you looked between Hunter’s eyes, “i think you’ll recall it’s usually me protecting you, no?”

Hunter laughed softly, eyes crinkling at the edges and he shook his head, “Only because you love to come in with a blaze of glory that rivals Anakin’s.”

You couldn’t help the reflexive flinch at his name, the pain searing through you with an echo of that cry again, but you forced that smile to stay on your lips, still not wanting to face it, “You love my blazes of glory, don’t even try to deny it, Sergeant.” 

Hunter didn’t miss the agony in your expression, not for one second but he allowed you the grace of waiting until you were ready, instead touching a hand to his chest, “:I would never deny you, Commander.” He swept a hand toward the way the rest of the boys went, “After you, my most dramatic partner.” 

You rolled your eyes with a laugh, pushing his chest gently as you moved past him, “Come on, you big idiot.”

Yeah.. It was good to be back together. 

~~~~~

Everything felt wrong. 

His senses were on high alert, the way they were on a mission, when he was tracking an enemy through the sight of his rifle. 

Crosshair rolled his shoulders and his neck, trying to focus on the grassy terrain beneath his feet, but the words in his head pulsed with every beat of his heart, 

Complete the mission. Complete the mission. Complete the mission.

Laughter behind him had his hands twitching, a sound that once brought him a sense of freedom and lightness.. It felt all twisted now. Like black smoke filtering across a clear sky. 

That voice in his head hissed at the sound, the sweet cadence of it. 

His head flicked to the side, watching as you walked along with Hunter and Echo, joking about something or other. 

When he saw you standing there, with Saw, his head was a mess. 

An insatiable itch in his hands as he held his rifle, battling against relief that you were okay. 

And yet, the second you had agreed with Hunter, that battle tipped to one side. 

He couldn’t imagine what you had witnessed since they last saw you, but whatever it was left that shadowy beast sitting right behind your eyes. He could see it. Sense it, just like that night at 79’s. 

But, just like that night, you choked it down and looked to Hunter for appraisal. 

Complete the mission. 

Crosshairs eye twitched as you laughed again, bumping into Hunter’s side and he zeroed in on the way his arm settled around yout shoulders so casually. 

“We don’t know what else might be around here, or if Saw’s men intend on letting us leave. Don’t you think you should save the reunion party till we’re back on the ship?”

Your eyes flicked as you looked at him, the laughter dying on your face and it hit something deep in his chest, “You could pretend to be a little happier to see me, Crosshair.” Your words were light, but he could see the blade’s edge in the hardness of your eyes, the challenge levelled at him. 

He rolled his shoulders again, trying to ease off that tension, “Of course I am. I just don’t think now is the time to be drawing a bigger target on ourselves. We’re already going to be reprimanded for not completing the mission. Now we have another of the Empire’s targets to paint on our backs.” He lifted his hand to motion to you, even though these words.. They were coming out wrong. All wrong. This isn’t what he wanted to say. 

He wanted to tell you how relieved he was you were still alive, that the thought you could have been caught in the crossfire of the Order had nearly brought him to his knees… So why weren’t those words coming out?”

Complete the mission.

Echo frowned, looking at Crosshair sharply, “That’s enough, Crosshair. When do we ever complete a mission the way we’re asked to? This is nothing different to what we always do.” He looked back at you, then back to Crosshair as the Marauder came into view, “Ghost is not a target. What’s gotten into you?” 

Crosshair wanted to scream, because even he didn’t know. He winced as that sharp pain came back into his head, “Good soldiers follow orders. We shouldn’t be drawing attention to ourselves.” He huffed, turning away, rubbing a hand over his head like he could push the thoughts out, “We need to complete the mission.” He shook his head sharply, then hurried into the ship, long legs working to draw him farther away. 

Before he rounded the corner, he heard your voice again, “Maybe we should stop snapping at him and check he’s okay?” 

No. 

Something in him told him not to be in a room alone with you. 

Just… No. 

Complete the mission.

Good soldiers follow orders. 

The Marauder was silent, save for the soft beeps and hums from the console, the proximity alarms on standby, and the soft breathing of your companions… and Wrecker’s snoring. 

But you were used to all of it, a white noise that you found you couldn’t sleep without. The Marauder was a safe home, a solid point in a constantly whirring galaxy that tried to spin everything out of control at any given moment. 

And given everything that had happened recently, you needed this stability more than anything.

You needed them more than anything.

As long as you had the Marauder and your family, you were okay. You were home. The rest of the galaxy might be in ruin, but this was your sanctuary. 

And maybe you’d only have days before Tarkin realised the boys hadn’t returned to Kamino, but you would deal with that after, and whatever was going on with Crosshair. 

You’d fix it. 

You could deal with all that when it happened. 

For now, you just wanted the peace and safety of the ship, and the boys. 

But tonight, the peaceful atmosphere was different. 

It was living. 

Breathing. 

It was alive, and it was prowling. Something was on the hunt. 

No, someone was on the hunt. 

Maybe that’s what turned your dreaming slumber, switching it from recent memories of all you had endured to awareness, even if your body was still at rest. 

Your connection to the force, those senses that rivalled Hunter’s, were whispering at you, hissing a warning even though the Force itself was hurting.

Danger. Danger. Danger. 

Your body remained still, breathing even, eyes closed but you didn’t need them open to see. 

Someone was here, standing in the rest area at the back of the Marauder. 

You could hear the breathing, the near silent inhale and exhale of a steady, solid rhythm. A hunter's rhythm. 

Three counts. That’s what you gave yourself, your hand stretching out beneath your pillow, ready to call your sabers to you, because you hadn’t slept with them under your pillow tonight- you didn’t need to, not here. 

One. 

Adrenaline seeped through your blood, cool like ice, sparkling like lightning. 

Two. 

The thing was, you knew who it was. 

You knew who was here, who had come to end your life. 

Who hadn’t escaped the Order you all thought you were free from.

Three. 

One more breath, then your eyes snapped open, sabers flying into your hands and igniting with that familiar hum. 

The stark white glow lit up his face, bouncing over the sharp angles of his face, highlighting the tattoo, his eyes. 

Those eyes were cold, detached, nothing recognisable of your friend in that gaze. 

The gaze that was levelled through the sight of his blaster, trained on your centre of your forehead. 

You sat up slowly, keeping your saber defensively between you, ready but unwilling to hurt him, because this wasn’t him. It couldn’t be. “Crosshair…”

His finger twitched, taking the safety off the weapon, determined. Cold.

Ready. 

“Good soldiers follow orders.”

[mokkemusic]

Nene can't play video games

Notes: I tried to think of a cool tittle. I really did but nothing came to me. Second note - I wrote this a while ago as a way to make myself feel better about my lack of game skills. I said Nene must be bad at it too. Except Mario Kart cause I can play Mario Kart. But anything else.

Yashiro Nene had no idea how she got stuck in this position sandwiched between the two twins that were just as perfectly opposite to her as the red and blue sides of the game console she tried to hold firmly In her grasp. Not that there was any pressure on her to beat this level. And not that she had any maneuvering room and mobility in her arms, back and or shoulders to beat this level with how close they were. But if she lost again for the 11th? Or was it the 15th time?…hey who's counting anyways.

”That’s 16 games Yashiro San.”

Her pupils shifted to her right. Amane had his chin resting in the crook of her collar bone.

“It's my switch. So I can play as many games as I want.” She tried to say in the coolest tone possible for her to ever be able to muster around him. Which... spoiler alert... wasn't that cool.

Amane adjusted his head to the side so his mouth was close to her ear sending shivers down her spine and her face skyrocketing as red as the blood splatter of her poor characters (insert name here that she never gave one) computer generated pixels. He died so young.

“I think you mean loose as many games as you want.” he purred. She could feel that triumphant smirk without even looking at him as his attempt to throw off the little game she had succeeded.

She yelped “Oh no no no no no no no!!!!” Her thumb joints moved so frantically abusing the control toggles that clicked and snapped so defiantly as she tried to revive him. Maye if it wasn’t a second too late…

NOOOOOOO!!!

”Aww he went splat.” Tsukasa stared at the LED screen with fixed dilated pupils as he watched the computer blood fall out of the poor guy who was unlucky enough to be Nene’s player. Guy should have known better. He mused to himself as his eyes lit up, refracting bits of the scenario into his soul on repeat.

”Nene chan do it again!”

Nene just smashed the console into her forehead.